Geoff Boycott: A Cricketing Hero

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. I fell about laughing and said, “Never mind, old cock, it were my fault, I were trying to pinch bowling.” He called me a cad.’

As well as playing league cricket for Ackworth, Boycott became involved in local, knock-out competitions. One of the teams he played for was an eleven organized by Bernard Conway, a professional rugby-league player with Hull. Conway has vivid memories of the young teenage Boycott: ‘He was not endowed with a brilliant natural talent but he was so single-minded and purposeful. He thought of every game as a battle with the sole aim of staying in.’ In the summers of 1954 and 1955, Conway entered his team in the Ackworth knock-out, winning in the second year in the final against the Plough Inn. These matches only lasted 20 overs and batsmen had to retire after scoring 25 runs. Conway recalls that Boycott seemed a little concerned that he would not be able to score quickly enough in the competition. ‘At the age of thirteen and fourteen he did not have any power in his strokes. He came to me and said, “What am I to do?” I told him not to worry. “Just get your twenty-five and leave the rest to us.” And he usually did, despite some barracking from the crowd. I remember I had a bet with one of the Fitzwilliam locals just before the final. He said to me: “Boycott will lose you this match. He scores so slowly.” I replied, “With him in the side, we’ve already got twenty-five runs on the board. And I’ll tell you something else. That lad might play for Yorkshire.” “They’ll not even let him into the stripping room,” was the reply.’

Boycott was to carry on playing for Ackworth until he was sixteen, though he still continued to practise at the ground, even when he was a Test player. As might be expected, the club is proud of its association with the great cricketer and has given him life membership. The Ackworth CC Chairman, Barrie Wathen, told me: ‘Geoff is always welcome here. We are honoured to have the connection with him. I know he’s a complex character, but personally, I have had a good relationship with him. George Hepworth says that when he was secretary at Ackworth, ‘nothing was too much trouble’ for Boycott. ‘If we were short of money, he would organize a Yorkshire side to come to the ground for a fund-raising game. He would also help to get us sponsors.’

As always with Boycott, however, the picture is complex. Today, other, more critical, voices are raised against him in the club. There are complaints that he has used people for his own ends, and that he has been selfish and rude. In particular, it is argued that he did little to assist when the club embarked on a major fund-raising drive to buy its own ground and thereby remove the threat that the land might be used for building. Fifty thousand pounds was needed to purchase the ground from its then owner, the Moorfield Development Company, and some members believed that Boycott should have stumped up the whole sum from his own pocket. But Boycott told the Yorkshire Post in November 1990: ‘It would be nice for the club to own their own ground and I have a great emotional attachment to Ackworth. I will certainly do all I can to help the fund-raising, but the club actually belongs to the community and they will have to make the biggest contribution.’

The fund-raising campaign was ultimately successful, the ground was bought, and is now superbly appointed. But the feeling among some senior figures is that Boycott never lived up to his promise. Indeed, it is a symbol of the ill-feeling in certain quarters that when the gates at the entrance to the ground, erected in his honour in 1971, were recently taken down, it was decided not to have his name on their replacements. Keith Stevenson, uncle of former Yorkshire player Graham Stevenson, told me: ‘He just used us all the time. He’s so selfish, forgets where he came from. People says he’s never bought them a drink. Well, I wouldn’t want him to.’ He told me of two incidents that strengthened his negative opinion of Boycott: ‘We used to run testimonial matches here for him in 1984, when money were short because of the miners’ strike. At one match, we had a beautiful spread in the clubhouse for tea, all home-made stuff. I was umpiring and as we came off the field at the end of one innings, Boycott says to me, “Is there some tea on, Keith?” I replied, “Ay, we’ll have twenty minutes.” Then Boycott says, “We’re having no break. We’re going straight out again.” So I told him, “If tha’s goin’ out, tha’s goin’ on tha own, because we’re havin’ tea with the rest of the teams.” And, you know, he stayed in the pavilion, never came down to the clubhouse, though we had laid on all this food for his testimonial. That were Mr Boycott.’ The second incident occurred when Keith Stevenson and his father gave Boycott a lift to a match at Middlesbrough: ‘Never offered me petrol money, of course, and then he says to my dad when we arrived, “Will thee go down shop and bring me lump of red cheese.” Me dad were only a miner but he got him this block of cheese – I know it sounds stupid but Boycott loved red cheese – yet Mr Boycott never paid and never thanked me for the lift. And then, at the end of play, we sat in the car park waiting for him, only to find that he had buggered off with a young lass.’

Another member of the club, Doug Lloyd, who played with Boycott in the Ackworth team as a teenager, is equally scathing: ‘You won’t get me knocking him as a cricketer but as a man I detest him. He is what you call a self-centred bastard. And he’s always had a short temper. I remember when he were a lad, fourteen or fifteen, if he got out he would cry and sulk and sit on his own.’ Doug Lloyd has a personal reason for his feelings towards Boycott. His son, Neil, was an outstanding young cricketer, playing for England Schools and the national youth side. Many observers, including Fred Trueman, felt that he was certain to play for England. Yet, within a week of playing a junior test match against the West Indies in September 1982, he died suddenly at the age of just 17. The shock of this tragic blow reverberated throughout Yorkshire cricket. ‘All the Yorkshire players and the entire committee came to Neil’s funeral, except that bastard Boycott. I’ve played in his benefit matches, taken time off work for him, and then he never showed up at my son’s funeral. That were it for me that day.’ Boycott was taken aback by the vehemence of Lloyd’s reaction, especially because he had written a letter of sympathy to the family the moment he had heard the tragic news about Neil. He said, ‘I don’t like funerals. I never go to them. The only funerals I have ever been to are my dad’s in 1967 and my mum’s in 1978. Doug and his wife were sad – understandably sad – and they took it out on me.’

Even today Doug Lloyd is unrepentant. ‘It still touches something in me. When I talk about Boycott, I just upset myself.’

3 ‘Dedicated Absolutely to Cricket’

From Fitzwilliam Junior School, Boycott, having failed his 11-plus, went to the local Kingsley Secondary Modern School. The teaching there was poor, the cricket facilities almost non-existent. The only positive result of this move was the development of his soccer skills, which he had already revealed playing in defence for Fitzwilliam youth club. As on the cricket field, he always wanted to win on the soccer pitch. He is remembered as a tough, physical player, with enough talent to attract the attention of Leeds United scouts in his mid-teenage years. He even played a few games for the famous club’s Under-18 team alongside Billy Bremner.

But cricket remained his first passion. Fortunately for Boycott, after just a year at Kingsley he passed the late-entry examination for grammar school and thereby won a place at nearby Hemsworth, which had both an excellent cricket ground and a cricket-loving headmaster in Russell Hamilton. With this kind of support, Hemsworth Grammar was to be almost as important for Boycott’s game as the Lawrence coaching clinic and Ackworth Cricket Club.

Hemsworth was a traditional institution, with a mixed intake of about 800 pupils, high academic and sporting standards, and strong leadership from Hamilton. ‘It was a smashing school. If you got there, you had a real sense of achievement,’ says one of Boycott’s fellow pupils, Terry Newitt. ‘Russell Hamilton was both strict and inspiring, the sort of gentleman you looked up to. When he walked down the corridor in his black flowing gown, we’d all jump out of the way.’ During his years at the school, Boycott proved himself to be not only an excellent cricketer but also a fine rugby player, a sound academic pupil and a mature, likeable young man. Ken Sale, who taught him biology and rugby, remembers him as ‘bright, diligent, anxious to please. In the classroom he was keen and alert. He was as careful in his approach to his studies as he was to his batsmanship. I also remember he was fastidious about his dress, always looking immaculate both on and off the field. As with most school sporting heroes, he was the idol of quite a few of the girls, had a little following of them, though I don’t think he was ever involved with any. He was a product of his background, very determined to get on and make the most of his talent at cricket. His personality could be described as intense; he didn’t seem to mix much but, underneath, I sensed he was a gentle, vulnerable pupil who tried to hide that vulnerability.’

Boycott was soon established in the Hemsworth First XI and at 15 he was made captain. Sale recalls that he had ‘a certain streak of arrogance about his game, which came from being so much better than the other boys’. In one match against the staff, Boycott was dominating as usual. Sale continues: ‘So our fast bowler, George Pacey, came on with the threat: “Right, I’m going to bowl as fast as I can straight at his legs.” I was fielding down at fine leg and soon Boycott was regularly clipping the ball straight past me. To make such a cool response to an adult fast bowler at only fifteen showed Boycott’s talent and character. He had an excellent defence off both front and back foot. He absolutely loathed to give up his wicket and hated any false strokes.’

The cricket coach at Hemsworth, Dudley Taylor, who was also a science teacher, has equally fond memories of Boycott. ‘Because he was a late-entry pupil, he was a year older than most in his class, so he seemed more mature. He was well-mannered and hardworking, though he could enjoy a laugh in the classroom.’ Taylor says that Boycott was good at all games, even basketball, and remembers him as a ‘brave and determined full back in rugby’. As with his soccer, his rugby skills aroused an interest beyond school – Boycott played in one Under 18 trial match for South Yorkshire District against Wakefield. Once more, however, it was his cricket that most impressed Taylor. ‘I knew even at thirteen that he would go on to play for Yorkshire. He was a more expansive player then but that is probably because he was in a different class to the other boys. I will never forget the way he played the pull. It was so effortless and the ball sped to the boundary, whereas the rest of us were liable to hit the ball in the air when we attempted that shot. In fact, he was so confident about technique that he actually used to coach the staff team in the nets.’

The tension that characterized many of his relationships in later life appears to have been largely absent during his time at Hemsworth, possibly because Boycott felt relaxed in his pre-eminence. Roland Howcroft, a schoolmate of the time, says: ‘He was always quite confident; there was no sense of insecurity about him. He was just a normal lad, liked normal things. On the buses to away games, for instance, he would join in singing with the rest of us. He was always outstanding at cricket, of course. Even in those days he was deadly serious about the game, was never a slogger or tried to hit over the top.’

Another of his Hemsworth contemporaries, Peter Jordan, now a journalist, says: ‘He was mature, sensible, never involved in any pranks and because he was serious and dedicated he seemed much older than the rest of us. Yet you could not have described him as a loner. He joined in everything at school and could take part as well as anyone in school debates. But there was never any bullshit with him. He never just talked for the sake of it but if he had something to say, he’d say it.’ Jordan was sure that Boycott would play for Yorkshire because of his determination. ‘He wanted to practise all the time. It was almost as if he was on a crusade. When he was out, he often didn’t come back into the pavilion but would sit on his own, holding an inquest on his dismissal. He was friendly and polite to the girls but nothing was going to stand in the way of his cricket, he was that dedicated. If he’d gone into medicine, he would be a top surgeon by now.’

One of Boycott’s closest friends at Hemsworth was the school wicket-keeper, Terry McCroakham, who therefore had some direct experience of Boycott the young bowler. ‘At this level, he was fast medium, very accurate, with a good inswinger. Because of his control, he was more reliable than many others.’ Against Castleford in 1956, Boycott had the remarkable figures of 7 for 4, though he finished up on the losing side. Like others from Hemsworth in the mid-fifties, McCroakham enjoyed Boycott’s company. ‘I never found him big-headed at all. There was no side to him, he was just part of the team. Yes, he could hog the strike but then he was a much better batsman than any of the rest of us. I don’t think he was a natural; you got the impression that he lived to practise. He was very ambitious, knew where he wanted to go.’ McCroakham has stayed in contact with Boycott and remains an admirer. ‘Just before the Leeds Test in 1964, he had damaged a hand and was having a net to see if he would be fit to play. I was standing nearby. Though he hadn’t seen me for seven years and was now an international player, he came straight over for a chat. To me, he has always been like that, unlike some other of these so-called England stars.’

Sadly, all the school records and scorebooks from this period were destroyed in a fire. However, Terry McCroakham has retained a press cutting from this period, which recorded Boycott’s largest innings for the school, when he made ‘a fine 105 not out’ from a Hemsworth total of 143 for 4 against Normanton Grammar School, ‘including two sixes and 14 fours’. Unfortunately rain brought the match to a premature end. Eddie Hambleton, another schoolfriend, remembers that day: ‘It started to rain quite heavily and the masters had a consultation. They then said that there were not often centuries in schools cricket so they would play a few more overs to give Geoff a chance to reach his hundred. When we came in about three overs later, Geoff had made 105. Back at school on Monday morning, we consulted the old scorebooks and found that the school record was 106. So Geoff just missed out there.’

The summer of 1958 was Boycott’s last at Hemsworth. He passed seven O levels and could have easily stayed on to do A levels, perhaps going on to further education. Ken Sale says that he was certainly competent enough to have gained a good degree at a red-brick university. Dudley Taylor goes even further: ‘With his brains and cricketing ability, he might well have got to Cambridge if he had been to public school.’

But two factors made him leave school at 17. First, he felt he had been a burden on his parents for too long. In an interview with the BBC in 1965 his headmaster, the late Russell Hamilton, who had been keen for him to stay on for his A levels, said: ‘Always at the back of his mind was the fact that financially he had been a big enough strain on his parents and that he really ought to get himself a job.’ The second, perhaps lesser, consideration was Boycott’s iron determination to make cricket his career, for which a university degree must have seemed an irrelevance. Everyone who knew him in the mid-fifties was struck by his single-minded ambition to become a Yorkshire cricketer. ‘Cricket was always going to be his trade,’ says Terry McCroakham. Indeed, the choice of Boycott’s occupation appears to have been dictated by his playing ambition, for the post he took up in the Ministry of Pensions in Barnsley, though mundane, offered a great deal of flexibility in his working hours. What Boycott did was to work every shift he could in the winter thereby building up extra leave that could be taken during the summer.

Yet, despite the advantages of this job for his cricket, Boycott’s early departure from school left him, in the longer term, with feelings of resentment towards the more privileged. The lack of a university education rankled, and was regularly used as a stick with which to beat his opponents in the supposed ‘cricket establishment’, with Boycott posing as the champion of the ordinary working public against the public-school, Oxbridge ‘gin and tonic brigade’. When Mike Brearley was awarded an OBE, Boycott said, ‘If I’d been to Cambridge, I’d have a knighthood by now.’ Similarly, this chip on his shoulder has also been reflected in his often boorish antics at official gatherings – ‘he could be so disrespectful. You’d be at a reception, chatting to some dignitary, perhaps an Oxford-educated bloke, then Boycs comes barging in, doing the guy down, “all the bloody same, you lot,” and so on. You would just feel so embarrassed,’ says one ex-England player who toured with Boycott. Mike Atherton, Cambridge graduate and England’s longest-serving Test captain, told me, ‘I have never had much of a problem with Geoff but I always felt he had a slight beef about people who went to Cambridge University. There is definitely a chippiness there, though in my case it may have been mitigated by the fact that I was a fellow northerner.’

Boycott worked as a clerical officer at the Ministry of Pensions from 1958 until 1963. His duties were hardly taxing for a man of his intelligence, but because of his cricket ambitions he never applied for promotion. Even in this job, Boycott demonstrated those patterns of behaviour that became so well known to his cricket colleagues. One fellow employee, who gave Boycott a fortnight’s training when he started in his post, told me: ‘I liked him and never had any problems with him, perhaps because I had shown him the ropes. But he could be very rude to others, never hesitating to tell someone to get stuffed. There was also a degree of resentment over the time he took off for cricket in the summer. He was something of an eccentric – when he brought in his lunch it often consisted of half a dozen cakes, no meat or bread. The social side of office life, like parties or outings, never interested him. He was very much a loner.’

By the time Boycott entered the civil service, he had already made rapid progress up the ladder of Yorkshire cricket. As well as producing a string of outstanding performances for Hemsworth Grammar, he had also appeared successfully for both the South Elmsall district team – averaging around 70 per game as well as captaining the side – and Yorkshire schoolboys. In the summer of 1958 he was vice-captain for the Yorkshire Federation’s Under 18s tour of the Midlands. Boycott had little chance to shine, however, as the tour was ruined by poor weather.

Just as importantly, he was also playing club cricket for Barnsley, in one of the toughest environments in the world, the Yorkshire and Bradford League. Boycott had moved from Ackworth to Barnsley when he was 16, on the advice of his uncle Algy who felt that ‘we ought to get him into a higher class of cricket’. Furthermore, Barnsley also had a very good batting track. So Algy had taken Boycott to the winter nets one night at Barnsley’s ground at Shaw Lane, where his batting was watched by Clifford Hesketh, chairman of Barnsley and a leading member of the Yorkshire committee. According to Algy, Hesketh took a brief look at Boycott, then said, ‘Oh, yes, we’ll have him.’

Given the strength of Barnsley, Boycott could not immediately break into the First XI, but he did well for the seconds, enjoying an average of 66. Then, towards the end of the season, he played two games for the senior side, making 43 not out in the second match in a victory against Castleford. In the following two summers, 1958 and 1959, he was a regular member of the Barnsley First XI, performing creditably but with few heroics. One of the leading members of the Barnsley club, Gordon Walker, was later to recall Boycott as a moody loner, with an inclination towards foul language and slow scoring: ‘I’d say we had several players who looked better at the time. It’s been sheer determination that’s made him one of t’ best we ever had in county.’

Through a remarkable twist of history, the modest south Yorkshire club at this time included a trio of cricketers who were subsequently to be amongst the biggest stars of modern Britain: Boycott, Dickie Bird and Michael Parkinson. It is perhaps no coincidence that all three had the same background, the sons of coal miners who learnt early in their lives the value of hard work and strength of character. But even Dickie and Parky were struck by the intensity of Boycott’s ambitions. In a radio interview in the seventies, Parkinson explained: ‘He always had this extraordinary, obsessive dedication. I have never met an obsession like it in any athlete. I remember the first game I really clocked his talent was when we were playing Scarborough and they had a bowler called Bill Foord, good enough to play for Yorkshire on a few occasions. And Geoffrey came in at number five. It was a soggy, wet day, and the outfield was damp, with a lot of sawdust on the run-ups. Bill Foord bowled his first ball to Geoff who went on the back foot and hit it like a shell past him. It went right through the pile of sawdust behind the bowler and hit the sightscreen. Foord turned to me and said, “Christ almighty, what’s this lad’s name?”

‘“Boycott.”

‘“I’ll remember that.”’

What Dickie Bird remembers most about Boycott at Barnsley was ‘his application, concentration and his absolute belief in himself. He had one great gift, mental strength. You can have all the coaching in the world but the most important thing is to be mentally strong.’ At Barnsley, Dickie Bird and Michael Parkinson generally opened, and Boycott came down the order, ‘though he handled the quick bowlers pretty well. He was a fine player off his back foot, which is always the hallmark of class, whatever the level. His punch through the offside was his bread and butter shot, with a lot of bottom hand in it. Then he would also pick up his ones and twos off his legs. That is all he did. He played to his limitations. His one weakness was that he played with very low hands going forward but that is the way we were coached in Yorkshire to cope with spin and movement on difficult pitches. The problem with that technique is that, though it might cover deviation it can also leave your hands vulnerable to the one that suddenly rises.’ Dickie Bird is also interesting on Boycott’s personality: ‘He always kept himself to himself, even in those early days. He was very private, didn’t mix much with the people. Parky, Boycott and I were all from the same background but we did not go out together in the evenings. All he seemed interested in was playing and practising as much cricket as he could. Yet he was also very confident and I think some of the older players resented that, meeting this young man who had so much belief in himself.’