E
ach year we ask readers of The Cricketer who
they would like to spend an evening with. For
platonic purposes, of course. Mike Atherton is
the first name on the teamsheet. So we set the
date. And did he disappoint? Definitely not.
This was the 10th such event we have staged, and he
entertained the biggest audience we have had so far for
about 100 minutes, in conversation with Simon Hughes
at Tuke Hall, Regent’s Park.
Atherton is a different character to the one we saw on
the field. In many ways he is the ultimate gamekeeper
turned poacher. He admits his answers to journalists’
questions were bland when he was playing, for fear of
controversy and spin, but now he does not do platitudes,
whether writing or speaking.
One of the most interesting discussion points was
about Zafar Ansari’s retirement, so soon after winning
Test caps with England. He wrote that he struggled to
match the competitive spirit his England team-mates
had, even off the field when they were playing table-
tennis. Atherton said he could relate to this... but only
once his playing days ended in 2001.“I do think you have to be slightly immature to be
a good professional sportsman,” Atherton told his
audience. “You have to think it’s the most important
thing in the world – which is clearly a nonsense. You
must give it everything, every minute of the day. If you
lose a game, it has to hurt. When you step away, however,
you realise it’s only a game. On my final day I clearly
remember thinking, it doesn’t matter any more. And that
is the time to retire, as you cannot have that.”
Atherton’s involvement in the 1994 ‘dirt-in-the-pocket’
affair meant it was only a matter of time before an
audience member quizzed him about ball-tampering,
after the Australia scandal over the winter. “I thought the
reaction was just unbelievable – totally over the top,” he
opined. “The Australian Prime Minister piping up, and
the general reaction, given that this is a Level 2 offence- speeding more than drink-driving. It is very rare to see
implements taken on the field, and then the initial denial
didn’t help, but I don’t think it was really about ball-
tampering – people were waiting for Australia to trip up.”
Of course there was plenty of talk about Atherton’s
batting – the thing he excelled at before he became
England captain, then later Sky broadcaster and
journalist for The Sunday Telegraph and The Times.
He was asked if concentrating came naturally to him.
“You can learn it if you have to, but it’s just something I
had, the ability to bat for a long period of time. You can’t
concentrate full-on for six hours so you have to switch
on and off between deliveries, and I was pretty fortunate
that was the way I am naturally, reasonably laidback,
heart-rate quite low, didn’t get too het up. Playing for
Lancashire sometimes in front of a small crowd, I had to
forcibly get myself going, as opposed to in a Test when
the adrenalin was flowing. Somebody like Robin Smith,
a fantastic batsman, was tense and hyper, and found it
difficult to switch off between deliveries. Doing history
at university helped, three essays in three hours, 5,000
words, the ability to organise your thoughts – it was the
only useful thing I learnt at Cambridge.”
And was his reputation as a stonewaller harsh?
“It was fair quite a lot of the time. I did get a one-day
hundred against West Indies at Lord’s [1995], so I could
give it a bit of tap from time to time, but a lot of my
innings were pretty slow, turgid and stodgy. I don’t look
Readers of The Cricketer had their wish when the former
England captain took the stage. Huw Turbervill reports
Atherton
entertains
‘You have to be
slightly immature
to be a good pro
sportsman – to
think it’s the most
important thing in
the world – which is
clearly a nonsense’
Below
Mike Atherton
and Simon Hughes
Jim Hindson/GraHam CHadwiCk/aLLsP
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iamwEsT/aFP
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ETTy imaGEs58 | thecricketer.com