Published in 2012

Back in the Seventies and Eighties, West Indian fast bowlers were like opinions. Everybody had one. These were the days when an ice-bath was something you chilled the beers in. These were the days before Twenty20, before IPL, before central contracts, before the international schedule became a 24/7 treadmill.

The world’s best cricketers in the world had the time and the inclination to hone their skills on the county circuit. It was great for the punters but it wasn’t so great for the blokes who had to face Michael Holding (Lancashire and Derbyshire), Malcolm Marshall (Hampshire), Joel Garner (Somerset) or Sylvester Clarke (Surrey). The list goes on.

Helmets were still a work in progress, County Championship matches lasted three, not four, days so pitches could be a bit spicy and there were no restrictions on the number of bouncers per over. So what was it really like standing 22 yards away from a West Indian quick in full flight?

The batsmen

Mick Newell (Nottinghamshire opening batsman, 1984-92)

I made my Championship debut against Middlesex with Wayne Daniel in their side. I remember this gold medallion he wore flapping round his neck as he ran in with his shirt unbuttoned to just above his navel.

My helmet just used to have these little side-pieces covering the ears. It’s unbelievable to think about it now. It was only after I faced Sylvester Clarke on a not very good wicket at Trent Bridge that I first wore a visor. He was quite scary and gave the impression that he would rather hurt you than get you out. He had a whirlwind action so you couldn’t always see where the ball was coming from.

I can’t remember the West Indian bowlers saying very much to me. I was lucky enough to get 200 against Michael Holding at Derby and I know he said quite a lot to the batsmen at the other end about me, like “Does this bloke know what he’s doing?” I tried to survive against Holding and then score runs against the likes of Martin Jean-Jacques, Ole Mortensen and Roger Finney. You looked at other bowlers in a slightly different light.

“There were times when I had to take the pitch out of the equation. At The Oval in 1976, when I took 14 wickets, I mainly bowled yorkers.” https://t.co/fBPqlusV9d

— Wisden (@WisdenCricket) November 28, 2020

Alan Fordham (Northamptonshire opening batsman, 1986-97)

In some ways, the speed was an advantage. Often you played on pitches that weren’t that quick and if a fast-medium bowler bowled you a bouncer it seemed to take an age to get to you and you’d get yourself in a tangle. Whereas if Ian Bishop (Derbyshire 1989-92) was pushing off the sightscreen and he let you have a couple, it was in the keeper’s gloves before you had time to worry about it.

Bishop was quick and had such a long run that you didn’t look up until he got about halfway through, otherwise you’d have worried yourself into oblivion by the time he got into his delivery stride.

I played against Sylvester Clarke once in my fourth first-class game on a quick pitch at The Oval. I had this really thin Mitre thigh-pad that was only one step up from a rolled-up towel. I got peppered and my leg was twice the circumference it was when I’d gone out to bat in the morning. [What Alan didn’t tell us was that he made 125 not out].

Everyone’s up for it and hoping they can meet the challenge. To face the best bowlers in the world was a fantastic experience.

In 1984, I was playing for Glamorgan facing Mikey at Swansea. I was carving away, trying to find a way of scoring some runs. I’d made a few and he bowled this thing to me. You have to imagine that there is someone who can bowl so fast that even though you never lose sight of the ball (you saw it all the way with Mikey because he was such a pure bowler), it was so fast that you just didn’t have the time to react. It was short, it came up and self-preservation took over a bit, I just pulled my head back a little bit. This thing just pinged off the Perspex visor we had in those days and went through to Jeff Dujon. Mikey came through and said to me: “Too late, Selve, too late.”

For somebody like me, it wasn’t so much that they were frightening, it was that they were so fast I just didn’t have the ability to react to it. The first ball I had in Test cricket was from Mikey at Old Trafford. There was no one anywhere near me. The keeper and slips are miles back and Mikey was nearly out of the bloody ground at the Warwick Road End. Miles away. He let this thing go and I jabbed my bat in the way and it ricocheted past him for two. My first Test runs were a straight drive for two off Holding. But the ball hit the bat rather than the other way round.