him he was understandably bitter that the two men had not deemed it necessary to take him into their confidence. He pointed out that had he known everything that the chairman and manager had known there is no way he would have agreed to certain aspects of team selection, particularly the recall of Robinson, who was included for his first Test of the series in the full knowledge of Dexter and Stewart that it would be his last match for England.
Dexter himself later claimed that he had wanted to take decisive action, that he had wanted to put the players on long-term winter contracts to reduce the likelihood that they would make themselves available for the South African expedition. And after this bitter lesson the TCCB allowed him to go ahead with that plan. But there is no doubt in my mind that he should have let Gower know what was going on. Keeping quiet was unfair on Gower as he was always going to be the one who carried the can for England’s poor performances on the field (as he later did, when Dexter and Stewart shoved it in his hands).
Perhaps Gower should have made more strenuous efforts to find out himself. But most of the time he probably had other things on his mind – most obviously trying to get England to play like an international cricket side.
Perhaps the saddest aspect of the end of the affair was that it overshadowed totally the contribution made by Jack Russell in that Test match, displaying fighting qualities sadly lacking in others and managing to concentrate on the task in hand of giving his all for the team when all around was a confused shambles.
Russell batted for 5 hours 51 minutes to make his maiden Test hundred of 128 not out, and in any other circumstances his example would have been an inspiration to his team-mates. Selected for the first Test at Headingley, he was given a torrid time by the Australian fast bowlers Merv Hughes and Geoff Lawson; so much so, in fact, that many commentators suggested he did not have the technique or the guts to play against short fast-pitched bowling. He noted the criticisms and, prior to the second Test at Lord’s, decided to do something about it. The day before the match he spent hours in the nets sharpening his reflexes against groundstaff bowlers chucking orange practice balls at him, and the hard work paid off when he made 64 in England’s first innings there.
Very much in the mould of my old mentor Ken Barrington, Russell had red white and blue coursing through his veins. It meant absolutely everything to him to play for England. As it did for the Middlesex bowler Angus Fraser, who made his debut at Edgbaston, and while Robin Smith was not born in England, the native South African showed more pluck for the fight than many of his English colleagues. Yet all their efforts were obscured by the controversy surrounding players who decided to turn their back on England. Smith made another 100 in the fifth Test at Trent Bridge but it was to no avail as Australia won by an innings and 180 runs and although England improved to draw the last Test at The Oval, it was widely expected Gower would resign the captaincy.
All through the series the mood had fluctuated between despair and disbelief. Injury after injury meant that England were never able to pick their side from the squad originally selected. And the farce reached a spectacular climax at The Oval when England went into the final Test with a seam bowler, Alan Igglesden of Kent, who Stewart helpfully described as ‘England’s 17th choice’.
According to Gower, ‘We replaced Moxon and Curtis with Hussain and Stevenson, but no sooner was the team released, than the usual business of people dropping out started up all over again. Malcolm’s back went, Fraser did his knee, and DeFreitas, called in as a replacement having reversed his original decision to go to South Africa, pulled a hamstring. We replaced DeFreitas with Greg Thomas, who said, “Sorry, I’m DeFreitas’s replacement for South Africa”. Norman Cowans and Riccardo Ellcock were both contacted at Middlesex and both reported unfit, and Glamorgan’s Steve Watkin was described as too jiggered to stand up for five days. I’m not sure whether I laughed or cried. We eventually ended up with two bowling places still to be filled the day before the game, and to add to the confusion, Ted, Micky and myself all came up with two different names. Eventually, through a combination of phone calls, and me handing over the final pick to Micky out of sheer exasperation, we settled on Derek Pringle and Alan Igglesden of Kent. This brought us up to 31 players for the series, and if there had been any plans for an end of term dinner, we would probably have had to cancel for the lack of a big enough restaurant. Morale, as you might have expected, was not exactly sky high.’
Dexter’s brave new world had come crashing down around him. Perpetrator of a catastrophic misreading of conditions at Headingley, his policy of keeping Gower in the dark over the defections was equally misguided. And his habit of opening his mouth and walking straight into it had ensured that a man once considered merely an eccentric was developing a reputation for being dangerously out-of-touch.
After Devon Malcolm had made his debut in the fifth Test at Trent Bridge, Ted Dexter, having been asked for any plus points he could think of from the match, answered by saying, ‘Who could forget Malcolm Devon?’ Then, at the final press conference after the match Ted set the seal on an unhappy summer by insisting, ‘I’m not aware of any errors we might have made.’ The first of these Johnstonesque bloomers in dealing with the media were only a hint of things to come.
Gower was resigned to losing the captaincy at the end of that summer series. In fact, he had thought very seriously about chucking the job in himself. In the end he never got the chance to, because Dexter sacked him anyway. But neither he nor I was prepared for what happened next.
Micky Stewart had been discussing with me all summer long my availability for the winter tour to West Indies. I had been approached by the rebel agents who told me they were prepared to break the bank to sign me up. I was not keen to go, but the money on offer was staggering, so I decided to call their bluff by asking for £500,000 for a three-year deal, knowing full well that was way above what the others were getting and confident that they would not be able to come up with the goods. Furthermore in my heart of hearts I wanted to tour the West Indies. They were the one country against whom I still felt I had something to prove. And I told Micky very early on in the piece that I was more than ready to try. In fact we had already discussed plans for the winter strategy and Micky left me in no doubt that he wanted me there.
Dexter, apparently, had other ideas. Making a mockery of his earlier unflattering description of Gooch, Dexter decided that the ‘wet fish’ should lead the side in the West Indies. Neither David nor myself had cause to fear that this would have a negative impact on our chances of touring. Although Gower had been told by Dexter and Stewart at the end of the meeting when Gower was relieved of the captaincy that they believed a change of direction was necessary, he had no reason to believe he would not be taking the journey with them. And I was looking forward to doing all I could to help a new team develop.
But in a decision which smacked of dictatorship from the top rather than a partnership between the management committee and the captain, Gooch was instructed by Dexter that neither Gower nor myself were to be considered for the tour. Later I got the impression that Gooch might not have wanted me anyway. But I was convinced that Stewart had done. Why else would he have spent most of the summer trying to persuade me to make myself available?
What bothered me was that the subject was not open to discussion. Dexter had made his mind up, and that was that.
As far as Gower was concerned, losing his place in the team was something that had simply not occurred to him as a possibility. He accepted that the decision to replace him as captain was probably correct. In fact he had intended to resign before being sacked but there was no question in anyone’s mind that Gower was worth his place in the side.
No question in anyone’s mind, that is, except the minds of those who mattered.
‘The problem as I saw it was that he [Gooch] didn’t understand that one man’s meat was another man’s poison.’
Graham Gooch’s period as captain of the England side was not without its successes. Indeed on that first