Geoff Boycott: A Cricketing Hero - Leo McKinstry

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was very lucky to survive and he was in a critical condition. But he was taken to the hospital just in time and he pulled through.’ Situated in the upper left side of the abdomen, the spleen filters bacteria out of the bloodstream. Therefore, anyone who has been through a splenectomy is far more prone to infection. According to some medical experts, the risk of being infected, especially with septicaemia, may be eight times higher. This largely explains why Boycott used to be reluctant to tour south Asia, an attitude that blighted his Test career in the seventies.

      The second, even more serious, misfortune occurred in March 1950, when his father was badly injured working down the mine. Tom Boycott’s job as a roadlayer meant he was responsible for laying and maintaining the underground tracks on which the coal tubs ran. In an interview with the Daily Telegraph in November 1998, Boycott described what went wrong and the sorry aftermath: ‘Some idiot sent these empty coal tubs along the line while my dad was still working on it at the coal face. Just mangled him up. Broke his back, broke his pelvis, both knees, ruptured his insides. What a mess. It destroyed his life. From then on he was a broken man. He had a rolling, shambling gait instead of being a six foot one inch upright man.’ If any such accident happened today, the employee would, rightly, receive substantial compensation. There were no such rights for miners in 1950 and, despite Tom Boycott’s poor health, he eventually had to return to his job underground. ‘There were just promises, promises from the union but no compensation. He only got a few tomatoes, eggs and apples when people called,’ recalled Boycott. His father never properly recovered from his injuries and died prematurely, seventeen years later. This experience further hardened Boycott. Not only did his family have to go through severe financial hardship as they struggled on his father’s meagre sick pay immediately after the accident, but also the treatment by both the union and employer must have made Boycott all the more distrustful of those in authority. Throughout his adult life he has clashed with such figures, whether they be Yorkshire committee men, England selectors, BBC bosses or French judges.

      Yet one of the hallmarks of Boycott has always been his willingness to battle through any crisis. Even as a child, he let neither family disaster nor personal health problems disrupt his pursuit of success at cricket. So, at the age of nine, he was selected for the Fitzwilliam Junior School team. The following year, he was its captain. His developing reputation as a talented young cricketer was further enhanced when he won a national newspaper competition, organized to coincide with the 1951 Festival of Britain, for the best all-round performance in a schools match. He had been nominated by Fitzwilliam Junior after taking six wickets for 10 and scoring 45 not out from a total of just 52 in a fixture against Royston. The prize, appropriate for a would-be Yorkshire and England opener, was a Len Hutton bat.

      Outside school, Boycott’s increasing passion for cricket was deepened by his uncle Algy, who was captain at Ackworth Cricket Club. ‘I talked cricket with him from his earliest days,’ he says, ‘and on Saturdays, for a day out, I would take him on the bus to the ground, maybe give him some tea there, and then he would have some lemonade and fish and chips on the way back. That’s really how he first got involved in the game. He was so single-minded as a child. Nothing else mattered to him except cricket.’ George Hepworth, who was secretary of Ackworth for more than thirty years, says that Algy was Boycott’s first real mentor: ‘I can see the pair of them now, Algy with his Brylcreemed hair, and little Geoff alongside, carrying Algy’s case and boots. It was Algy who really fed his passion for the game. He was a wise old bird, great at encouraging youngsters.’

      George Hepworth has a clear recollection of an early game that Geoff played for the Ackworth Under 15s. ‘We were playing against Featherstone and I was captain of the side. Geoff was only about nine years old and he came in as last man, with eighteen still needed. He stayed there and we managed to scrape fifteen runs towards the target before Geoff got out. His mum and dad had been watching and there were tears streaming down his face. He thought he had let everyone down but in fact he had batted well for a little lad. And I thought to myself, This kid, he’s got a touch of steel in his makeup, a look of eagle in his eye. I had a gut feeling then that he would go right to the top.’

      Recognizing that Geoffrey had genuine ability at the game, Algy suggested that he should receive proper training at the coaching clinic at Rothwell, run by the former Somerset leg-spinner Johnny Lawrence. The combined cost of the cricket lessons and the bus fares to Rothwell came to about 10 shillings, more than Boycott’s parents could afford, so Algy and other relatives assisted. Boycott’s cricket lessons involved not only a considerable sacrifice by his parents but also real dedication on his part, for he had to make two long bus journeys plus a mile’s walk to reach the clinic, often in rain or snow.

      Johnny Lawrence’s indoor school, the only one of its kind outside London, was little more than a large shed with a wooden floor. It had no proper heating, which meant near-freezing conditions on a winter morning. Each of the two nets had different surfaces: one was a turning wicket, the other fast. What the school lacked in facilities and warmth was more than balanced by Johnny Lawrence’s talent as a coach. A deeply religious man who refused to play on Sundays, he had a gift for conveying both enthusiasm and technical advice. Jack Birkenshaw, who attended the school with Boycott, says: ‘He was a great coach, one of the best I have ever known. He loved the game, had a passion for it, made you enjoy it, taught you all the subtleties of batting and bowling.’ George Hepworth agrees: ‘Johnny was an absolute genius as a coach, always able to end a session on a positive note. He should have been put in charge at Yorkshire but the establishment derided him because he hadn’t played for England. It was all bunkum. He was something special.’

      An impeccably straight technique and confidence against spin were two of the legacies of Boycott’s early years at the Rothwell school. The Yorkshire left-arm spinner Don Wilson, another Lawrence pupil, remembers: ‘When I bowled at Geoffrey, I could never get him out. He had no strokes but an unbelievable defence.’ This is Jack Birkenshaw’s verdict: ‘He was very defensive and I would not have said he would have ever been a Test cricketer then. There were a lot better than Boycs at that age. But he just kept coming along and improving all the time.’ Throughout his playing career, Boycott continued to turn to Lawrence for advice and support. Before an overseas tour, for instance, he would usually have several intensive net sessions at the school.

      Boycott was soon able to show his increasing skills in a proper playing arena. When he was twelve, his uncle Algy managed to find him a place in the Ackworth second team. It was not an auspicious start for he made precisely nought but he played well enough in the following game to win his debut for the first team at the end of the season, making nine in a match at Goole. At the start of the next summer, 1954, still aged just 13, he played his first game for the Ackworth senior team at home. George Hepworth, on leave from duty in the RAF, was playing in the match. ‘We were 87 for 7 when he came in and we took our total to 119, making the scores level. Then I was out to the last ball of the over. The very next ball Geoff put his foot across and cracked a terrific cover drive, which rattled the boundary railings.’ Boycott’s winning hit brought his first press notice, a mention in the local Pontefract and Castleford Express, though thanks to the scorer misspelling his name, he appeared as ‘Jeffrey Boycott’.

      Boycott’s performance made an even bigger impression on George Hepworth. On his return to RAF Bempton, he told the local postmaster, Reg Gardiner: ‘Watch out for this kid called Geoffrey Boycott. As sure as God made little apples, this kid will go all the way. One day you may well see him play for England.’ For years afterwards, George Hepworth used to tell Boycott of these words to Gardiner. ‘I’m not sure he ever believed me. Then, in 1984, I was at the Scarborough Cricket Festival, standing talking to Geoff. By coincidence, a million-to-one shot, Reg Gardiner came by. He turned to Geoff and said, “This gentleman said to me, thirty years ago, to look out for a kid called Boycott. Tha were an age comin’ through but, by God, he were right.”’

      George Hepworth also recalls the time he ran out Boycott in a game against Stanley. Hepworth was trying to win the strike because he fancied taking on Stanley’s off-spinner. ‘I called him for a quick single and, poor little kid, his pads were almost under his chin while I, serving in the RAF, was pretty fit.’ Boycott was run out for 25, but Hepworth went on to reach his 50. ‘When I returned to the dressing room, Geoff was still sitting there in his pads, just peering over them.

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