Telegraph writers compare Stokes’ amazing Ashes-saving heroics with three
Sport Cricket
HEADINGLEY 1981
WORLD CUP
A
s the only journalist,
or media
representative, to be a
live witness of Ben
Stokes’s 135 and Ian
Botham’s 149 in 1981 –
both of them unbeaten, and
unbelievable, at Headingley – I feel
exceptionally privileged.
Both Stokes and Botham created
hope where there was none, when
England were 1-0 down in the
Ashes and about to go two down.
Both played the greatest innings
for England seen to that point; and
both achieved such heights of
inspiration that they were not
simply famous sporting occasions.
In so doing, Stokes and Botham
demonstrated to us that one can
exceed the limits of what had been
considered humanly possible.
Both Stokes and Botham batted
with the freedom which only the
all-rounder has: the licence to
attempt higher-risk shots than any
other batsman can, because he
already has wickets in the bank.
In no individual sport is a player
matched against an enemy of such
unequal numbers as 11; and in no
team sport can an individual stand
out to the same extent as Botham
and Stokes, and in a team
representing their country, against
the oldest enemy, too, which
Australia is to England in cricket. It
is on this stage that the great
all-rounder exceeds the limit of
what had been considered
possible. Both great all-rounders –
for this is what Stokes became last
weekend – had something personal
to prove, beyond their team’s need
to level the series.
Botham had been sacked as
England’s captain after theprevious Test: he had technically
got his resignation in a few
minutes before Alec Bedser told
him, but he knew the bullet was on
its way. Hell hath no fury like Sir
Ian Botham scorned.
Stokes was not merely motivated
to make up for time lost, notably in
Australia on the last Ashes tour
because of the court case. In the
short term, in his first spell of the
match, his first five overs had
conceded 30 runs and let Australia
off the hook in prime bowling
conditions. He was more motivated
still after his wild drive in
England’s first innings of 67; and he
had to make up, too, for running
out Jos Buttler. Stokes had painted
himself into a corner, before
coming out to fight, first by
bowling his guts out for 24 overs
from the rugby stand end.
Botham walked out to bat on a
grim Monday afternoon – whirling
his bat over his head in a Viking act
of bravado – at a rather ramshackle
Headingley which was pregnant
with history. England were 135 for
seven in their second innings, still
92 runs behind Australia in the
third Test. Botham had made 50 in
his first innings, but a pair in the
second Test at Lord’s.
At the other end, he had three
partners to come, three fast
bowlers who could bat to varying
extent: Graham Dilley, who died in
2011 aged 52; Chris Old, who
watched Stokes’s Test live through
spectacles; and Bob Willis, now
Sky’s studio commentator.
One similarity between the two
innings was that they were given a
foundation of Yorkshire grit.
Geoffrey Boycott had worn down
Australia for 3½ hours before being
dismissed, while Joe Root had
blocked for more than five hours;
and in both matches Australia had
only three fast bowlers, who were
over-bowled and eventually
powerless to resist.
Botham did not need
unorthodox strokes. Dennis Lillee,
Terry Alderman and Geoff Lawson
all bowled far too short, andDefiant last-ditch fireworks
outweigh Botham bravado
A better innings, yes,
a better match, yes
- but a better story?
Botham rose on to his toes to pull,
hook, cut and slash off the back
foot, and the ball sped away down
the slope from the even more
raised table that used to be
Headingley’s square. He hit 27
fours and one six off 148 balls.
On the fourth evening, when
Botham was 145 not out, Henry
Blofeld gave me a lift back to the
team hotel. I ventured that
England might get away with a
draw if there was rain around,
because batting would be difficult
and slow going if England bowled a
fuller length. Neither of us
mentioned the possibility that
England could win. Australia, as it
turned out early the next morning,
needed only 130.
Both Australian sides, those of
1981 and 2019, became
mesmerised. The 1981 side had afault line of disunity, which
prepared them to crack under
Botham’s pressure: the split
between the former World Series
players and the “good-goodies”
who had stayed loyal, if only
because they had not been good
enough for Kerry Packer, under
Kim Hughes. Tim Paine has the
respect of his team, who are
united, yet neither he nor Hughes
had the presence of mind or stature
to avert the growing crisis.
This sport evolves. Botham had
no need to defend, because
Australia bowled short and wide.
Stokes married his new world-class
defence – three runs off his first 73
balls – to T20 strokes, so he could
go from first gear to sixth, scooping
and reverse-sweeping sixes.
Neither Botham nor Stokes tried to
hit too hard. Stokes’s sixes atT
hey were both a once-in-
a-generation match.
A once-in-a-generation
innings. Only there were two. One
42 days after the other, in fact.
Perhaps it was fate; written in the
stars. The answer to the great
question of life, the universe andeverything is, of course, 42, as told
by Douglas Adams’s supernatural
computer, Deep Thought, with
infinite majesty and calm.
A bit like Ben Stokes with the
bat, then. In the World Cup final on
July 14 it was the composure to
realise he needed only a single off
the last ball to keep alive England’s
hopes of winning the trophy for
the first time, a tie to take it to a
super over. “Don’t try to be a hero
and do it with a six,” Stokes
revealed he had told himself.
In the third Ashes Test it was
when to build, to constrain, and
when to go. His slowest Test fifty
off 152 balls, but then a blistering74 off 45 and a manipulation of the
strike that was Machiavellian in
magnitude. Nought to 60 in two
seconds flat, if we are looking for a
measure. Is it possible to compare
and contrast? We should first
consider whether one could have
happened without the other? “Had
Ben Stokes not played so much
white-ball cricket in recent years,
perhaps he might not have
acquired the skills,” tweeted The
Sunday Times’s Simon Wilde.
Stokes played the anchorman at
the World Cup, his strike rate
down on previous years but his
average up; ugly at times, effective
always. Test-infused white-ballStokes married his
new world-class
defence with T20
shots, moving from
first gear to sixth
He
moved
from
nought
to 60
in two
seconds
flat
Weight of expectation
puts Sunday’s wonder
innings on a higher
plane, says Scyld Berry
Wait for the Ashes result
to put Stokes heroics at
Headingley into context,
writes Isabelle Westbury
Three all-round legends
amazing Ashes-saving heroics with three
e on to his toes to pull,
nd slash off the back
e ball sped away down
om the even more
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s square. He hit 2 7
ne six off 148 balls.
urth evening, when
s 145 not out, Henry
e me a lift back to the
I ventured that
ght get away with a
e was rain around,
ting would be difficult
ing if England bowled a
h. Neither of us
the possibility that
uld win. Australia, as it
early the next morning,
y 130.
tralian sides, those of
9, became
d. The 1 98 1 side had adisunity, which
em to crack under
essure: the split
e formerWorldSeries
the “good-goodies”
yed loyal, if only
y had not been good
Kerry Packer, under
s. Tim Paine has the
is team, who are
neither he nor Hughes
sence of mind or stature
growing crisis.
t evolves. Botham had
defend, because
wled short and wide.
ied his new world-class
ree runs off his first 73
0 strokes,so he could
t gear to sixth, scooping- sweeping sixes.
ham nor Stokes tried to
Stokes’s sixes at
married his
orld-class
e with T2 0
moving from
ar to sixth
Three all-rrroound legends
Ian
Botham
Tests: 102
Batting av: 33.54
Top score: 208
Bowling av: 28.4
Best bowling:
8-34Headingley, like Botham’s
everywhere, just cleared the
boundary. Botham did not hit big
sixes, as his bottom hand did not
grip the bat hard, but he hit many.
The major difference lay in the
weight of expectation. Botham
performed in the third innings,
when England were following on,
when victory was only a gleam in
Mike Brearley’s eye. Stokes
performed in the fourth innings,
when he and Jack Leach were
alone in standing between
Australia and a 2-0 lead. They had
to score 73 more runs – twice the
previous highest match-winning
stand for England’s 10th wicket- and reach 359, England’s
highest fourth-innings target:
this was far beyond the limit of
what had been done, yet Stokes,
somehow, accomplished it.
Botham’s 149 was not
England’s greatest Test innings
for long. He exceeded it himself
two Tests later with his 118 at Old
Trafford: John Woodcock, of The
Times, who had been watching
since 1950 and heard the folklore
of what had gone before, judged
it to be the best for England to
that point. Later that summer I
put it to Botham that his 149 at
Headingley had been hitting,
whereas his 118 was batting; and
he paused before agreeing.
Graham Gooch’s 154 against
West Indies in 1991 raised the bar
further. Again it was at
Headingley, which can be no
coincidence: the difficulties of
batting there under cloud
cover are extreme. Other
superb innings have
followed – Michael
Atherton’s defiance in
Johannesburg, several
centuries by Kevin
Pietersen – but the
context of Stokes’s
innings, that he
made his stand in
the last ditch in
the Ashes,
makes it
supreme.
4 *** Tuesday 27 August 2019 The Daily Telegraph
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