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It’s easy to write about
a soul mate. Most biographers will rattle on about “Botham
having caught the imagination in a way no other cricketer, past
or present, could match.” The supreme cricketing hero of any
age. No other cricketer in living history could have played the
game with more gusto.
Botham converts the simple BRAVADO and dreams of A Village Cricketer
into epics all over the world. Coming out to bat with that familiar
arm-twirling windmill action, the atmosphere becomes electric; when
he is brought on to bowl the crowd hums with anticipation. Among
the 500 or so men who have played for England, there has never been
a greater entertainer.
All good rip roaring material. The stuff of Kings and Indiana Jones,
barnstorming, courageous... and all true.
My personal appraisal of his Lordship is too multifarious and indescribably
colourful to print in this book, but I can tell you that twenty
years of adventures have encompassed five walks, over alps, under
bridges in the back of taxis; mad flying in Australia, “We
haven’t got a map Beefy, how are we going to find GEELONG?”
“Don’t worry Loon we’ll go low and read the road
signs”. (We hovered so low I could have asked a kangaroo the
way). If Beefy had been in David Gower’s Tiger Moth he would
have flown the plane, dropped the water bombs and probably have
been sent home.
Think of that, the only man to get thrown out of Australia twice.
(Most people get thrown in!) I have suffered solitary confinement
in various fishing boats from Stornoway to the Dee; 1,000,000 lost
nights in pubs, making life long friends overnight; treading the
Boards (78 night tour in 82 days, chatshows from Eastbourne to the
Gulf) “DAY” Trips to rugby games which have ended up
as upside down skirmishes on the sawdust floor of Dublin’s
O’Briens Bar escaping five days later... the torture goes
on and on.
And now a foray up north through the snow, past the West Leeds Railwaymans
Club to Bradford via Kashmir Cabs to see the King in pantomime.
Twenty years of wanting to be captured by the man who has a heart
the size of the moon and would gladly die for you. (He once admitted
to me in a Muscat hotel room “Loon, if a bloke came in here
with a machine gun to shoot you, I’d stand in his way”).
The trouble is he meant it. There is only one King Beefy. Long may
he reign.! In true adventurous spirit Ian has now completed 5000
miles in seven walks raising over £5 million for Leukaemia
research. Now retired from the game, he has completed ‘The
King and I’ with Viv Richards and David English (Australian
Tour) In November 1996 he went back on the road with David English
and Allan Lamb before linking up with David Gower, Bob Willis, Paul
Allott and Mike Holding, in Sky’s powerful cricket team.
Like a round of golf with Catherine Zeta Jones and Michael Douglas
- Iconic and saintly - The one and only Beefy.
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