The developing story was one which was widely reported and it soon became clear that a book from Rafiq would follow. That It’s not Banter it�s Racism then took 15 months to appear rather took me by surprise and, to? an extent, public interest had cooled by the time of publication. It was perhaps a combination of that and the fact that I had read so much at the time? that led to the delay in my feeling the need to read the book.

We have a problem with racism in the UK. We always have had and I fear we always will. The nature of the problem has certainly changed over my lifetime, but not as much as I would have liked. I believe that on th??e whole there are many more people than when I was young ??who passionately believe in fairness and equality, but the minority is still far too large, and there are far too many of those who allow their thoughts to become words and, worse still, actions.

In a different life I used to defend people in Magistrates’ courts. I have seen changing attitudes in both those who make the law and those who are charged with enforcing it. But despite that I have to confess to not having really understood the problem until 2003, a time by which many criminal offences could be and were made more serious by the words racially aggravated being added to the charge.

In 2003 there was a football match between Port Vale and Oldham Athletic at the former’s home ground in Burslem, one of the towns that makes up the city of Stoke-on-Trent. Something was chanted by the home fans towards the away fans along the lines of You’re a town full of Pakis. One fan faced a racially aggravated charge as a result. Sitting in Stoke-on-Trent Magistrates Court a District Judge dismissed the charge, on the basis that use of the word Paki was mere doggerel.

The prosecution appealed, and the High Court agreed with them, and did not mince their words in doing so. Paki was denounced as a slang expression which is racially offensive.

The release of the Judgment of the High Court inevitable sparked much debate in my local magistrates co??urt’s advocates�room. It was, after all, the sort of issue that cropped up in cases in the ??court day in and day out and whilst I remain of the view that none of my professional colleagues had a racist bone in their bodies, a number had a degree of sympathy with the errant District Judge’s reasoning.

Our discussions were ended when another colleague, a? newly qualified one of Pakistani ethnicity, came into the room. He explained to us all, clearly feeling much the same emotions as Azeem Rafiq, just why the High Court were right and the District Judge wrong. I learnt something that day which I have carried with me ever since and, reading Rafiq’s book having reminded me of the episode, it came as no surprise when googling that young solicitor to learn that he has made a great success of his career.

But I digress.

When I did open It’s not Banter it’s Racism I have to say my initial reaction was that I didn’t like the cover (I thought it was far too ‘in your faceâ€?, I didn’t like the fact that it didn’t have any photographs in it, nor that it lacked the statistics of Rafiq’s career or an index. Those thoughts were prompted by previous experience distilled from the number of cricketing biographies and autobiographies I have read over the years. As soon as I started reading this one however I realised that in fact it is the exception that proves the rule. The design of the cover is entirely appropriate, and photographs, statistics and an index not required.

And that isn’t because the book is not in fact an autobiography. It most certainly is and how??ever much I did know before reading it I certainly didn’t know about Rafiq’s childhood in Pakistan, the circumstances that forced his family to travel to England, and the hugely distressing loss of his first child.

I also didn’t know quite as much as I thought I did about what had developed as far as the bullying allegations were concerned, and more particularly just how thoroughly he was ultimately vindicated. The line that tends to stick in the memory is that the allegations against Michael Vaughan were found to be ‘not proven� but it is clear that is the top and bottom of that. Ultimately of course only Vaugha?n played an active role in the proceedings, and much of what was accordingly found proved against others had been admi??tted by them in any event.

The greatest hope therefore must be that all involved, Vaughan included, had at some point the sort of light bulb moment that I had in June 2003, and I have no doubt that anyone who reads Rafiq’s superbly crafted telling of his life and feelings and hasn’t already experienced that will do likewise. It’s not Banter it’s Racism is an important book. It is an uncomfortable and troubling read but does, ultimately, give some hope for the future and, spoiler alert here, at least for Rafiq and his family there seems to have been a happy ending – it is just a shame he had to move to Dubai to find it.

Thus the mismatch at?? Haverford took place in 1895. By now, aged 22, the man who remains b?y a distance the best known cricketer produced by Philadelphia in their Golden Age heyday, John Barton King, was just getting into his stride.

Visiting North America in 1895 were a team of English amateurs led by Frank Mitchell, a Yorkshireman who was j??ust short real Test class, although he was good enough to play five Tests, two for England against South Africa and then, as S??outh African captain, twice against Australia and once against England in the 1912 Triangular Tournament.

The match which is the subject of this monograph was the last of the three First ?Class fixtures that the tourists had. Musk’s introduction explains how the Haverford match was the deciding match of the three. The University of Pennsylvania Past and Present won the first, and Mitchell’s side the second against The Gentlemen of Philadelphia. The tourists opponents in the third match were again the Gentlemen of Philadelphia.

How strong were these two sides? Fortunately for the many who will be familiar with only King and Mitchell Musk begins with brief biographical details of the 22 players. Two of the other Englishmen played with Mitchell for England in South Africa and Frank Druce played throughout the 1897/98 Ashes series. The remainder were of variable quality but the reader is left w?ith the impression that Mitchell’s was a decent side.

In the event however, as the final part of the monograph explains, they were beaten, and beaten by an innings. King starred with the ball with 5-47 and 6-61 and with the bat there was a centurion and two men who went past fifty – it reads as though it was an interesting game.

For those who are interested in the doings of Bart King and his teammates, and there clearly is some enthusiasm for the subject judging by the number of books and monographs that have appeared in the last couple of years or so this one, a mere snip at £8 inclusive of UK postage and packing is well worth investing in. It is available either from the publisher or Roger Page, but t?here are only 30 signed and numb??ered copies to go round.

I knew of course that there was also an older brother, Surinder, ‘Tommy� who had also played Test cricket for India, but other than one season with Burnley in the Lancashire League we never saw Tommy in England. We saw Jimmy here with India, but whilst his man of the match winning performances in the sem??i-final and final of the historic 1983 World Cup linger in the memory he never played county cricket, didn’t tour here in 1982 and on his visits in 197??9 and 1986 didn’t pull up any trees.

But I did also know about his heroics in the Caribbean in 1982/83, and his?? reputation as one of the bravest of batsmen. I was also aware of his travails the following year when, West Indies paying a return visit to India, he made five ducks and just a single run in his sixth innings against West Indi??es. What, I have long wondered, was going on there?

In the manner of all traditional autobiographies Fearless charts a chronological course through Amarnath’s life. Lala, described in the title of one book about him as the Stormy Petrel of Indian Cricket, inevitably plays a major part in his family’s life and ?the dev?elopment as cricketers of his three sons.

The Amarnath back story is not without interest, but I have to confess to having found the first quarter of Fearless hard work in places, and there came a time when I chose to skip forward to the chapter on that 1982/83 visit to the Caribbean. At that point my intention was to find such answers as there might?? be to the questions I started out wi??th and leave it at that.

Naturally I expected the chapter to be ??interesting, but I didn’t expect to be faced with what I can only describe as an object lesson in how a cricketer should approach the subject of a Test series in an autobiography. 

A mere observer, and even to a certain extent a biographer, can only really give an account of the cricket on a tour. Amarnath does that of course, but looking at it from his own perspective, and his impressions of those of his teammates. Outside the Tests there? are entertaining insights aplenty none of which could ever find their way into a book other than an autobiography.

Amarnath clearly, and deservedly, enjoyed himself in the Caribbean, so what did he have to say about that extraordinary bad run a year later against the opposition he had bested in their own back yard? The approach is similar even if the story and the tone are rather darker. I suppose I should really have guessed, but the explanation was nothing more and nothing less than burn out??.

So then I went back to the start of Amarnath’s Test career and am pleased to be able to say that the chapters devoted to each of the series in which he was i??nvolved are more of the same, descriptions of cricket matches and the touring experience, told with the same revealing insider’s view tha??t characterised the accounts of 82/83 and 83/84.

One of the slightly surprising aspects of Amarnath’s career is that after, at 37, he played his last Test he was selected for another 22 ODIs over the greater part of two years. Not a man who always enjoyed the easiest of relationships with selectors the last subject the book tackles, and it is a fascinating story that is particularly well written, is the disciplinary issues at the end of Amarnath’s career after he criticised those selectors as being a bunch of jokers.

So all in all Fearless is actually a most enjoyable read. It isn??’t quite perfect though, for three reasons, albeit the first I had barely noticed, but I am told that to the dedicated student of Indian cricket history there are a few factual errors. Second a few of the more controversial incidents do not name those involved. I got the impression that that will not bother those same dedicated historians because I suspect enough clues are left f?or them to know who is involved, but others may, as I was, be left feeling a little frustrated at times.

And my final point may, I have to concede, be a complete non point depending on what Amarnath’s future plans are, but I was little disappointed that Fearless, to al??l intents and purposes, ended with Amarnath’s international career. On what he has done since, and his opinions on what has unfolded in Indian cricket after his retirement he remains silent. But maybe th??ose are matters that are left out because they are due to feature in a follow up? I certainly hope so.

As with its predecessor the booklet, inevitably, looks at men who played their First Class cricket many years ago when, unlike now, it was possible for those whose primary calling was other?? than as a professional cricketer to appear in the County Championship.

Altogether Stephen Saun??ders has researched the lives of 23 men, only four of whom made double figures in terms of Hampshire appearances. By far the most were the 75 appearances of Francis Bacon, the next most prolific being a mere ?22. As many as ten appeared just once for the county.

It is slightly surprising that all of the 23 come from the officer class, as I had expected that perhaps one or two might have emerged from below decks, but National Servic??emen ??not being eligible there are none.

All but? one of the men featured made their appearance(s) before the Second World War. Only one played for Hampshire after the war and I initially assumed that was the only reason that I recognised his name. It tu?rned out however that in addition to his post war appearances John Manners was also, probably, the best cricketer among the 23 and he certainly had a most remarkable life being. Manners was 105 when he passed away in 2020, and is the longest lived First Class cricketer of them all.

Manners, a Lieutenant-Command??er, also had a notable naval career that is described in some detail. Indeed for all these men, given that their cricket careers were a?lmost all short, the game is largely incidental to accounts of their service to their country and their backgrounds.

I will resist the temptation to mention all of the booklet’s highlights but will reference just one of the stories, that of Oswald Cornwallis who, in his sole appearance for the county did not even take the field. Hampshire batted first against Kent in 1921 and the entry against Cornwallis’s name in both innings is ‘absent injuredâ€? By remarkable coincidence his brother Stanley, a rather more accomplished cricketer who made more than a hundred appearances for Kent is similarly described. In fact neither was injured, but both withdrew from the game following the murder of their brother in Ireland, the story of which is also told.

Author Saunders hails from Portsmouth, and has a lifelong interest in both the Royal Navy and Hampshire cricket and the pleasure he derived from putting the booklet together is evident in his writing. The subject matter won’t interest every cricket lover, but if it does appeal this well written and nicely produced booklet is a credit to both author and publisher. It is available to visitors to the club shop at the Ageas Bowl for £5, or for £7.50 inclusive of UK postage via the publisher. Copies are also on their way to Melbourne where they will be available from Roger Page. 

The main ‘keeper, Jock Edwards, did not perform up to his best standard and by the end of the second Test it was clear that Edgar was going to be given the job of keeper for the third Test at Lord’s. Edgar was so nervous of embarrassing himself at the home of cricket he asked?? the England ‘keeper Bob Taylor for some pointers. Taylor to his credit gave the anxious Edgar an hour of practice, plus some much needed tips for co??rrect positioning for a ‘keeper when it came to the famous Lord’s ridge.

In the end Edgar did well. Taking three catches and holding up adequately to the spinners. He also manag?ed to sc?ore a few runs, and much to his relief no one questioned his ability behind the sticks. Despite his success, Edgar stated ‘never again!�

I was lucky enough to speak with author Ronald Cardwell about how this little book came about. He stated that due to his friendship with Edgar he had often heard the story about his wicket keeping call up at Lord’s. Unbeknown to Edgar, Cardwell wrote the monograph and had organised a short print run of 113 copies before inviting Edgar and a number of other past New Zealand cricketers to a dinner. He then prompted a conversation about the cricketers�most interesting match, knowing that Edgar would almost certainly allude to his ‘keeping at Lord’s. Sure enough Edgar did and with the rest of the guests having been in on the ruse, Cardwell then produced An Unexpected Call-up �much to the surprise and delight of Edgar.

This is an enjoyable story in a nicely produced monograph. Cardwell has managed to interview a number of people involved in the tour including the New Zealand captain, Mark Burgess. I am not ??sure if there are any copies still available, however I would recommend chasing one down. I can guarantee it?? won’t disappoint.

For those under 50 years of age Kirmani’s name is unlikely to be a familiar one, but he was a thoroughly competent wicketkeeper batsman who played in 88 Tests between 1976 and 1986 and his record certainly stands comparison with that of his immediate predecessor, the flamboyant and immen??sely popular Farokh Engineer, as well as that of his successor, Kiran More.

With all due respect to Kirmani he was not a superstar and, as a cricketer, was a man who got on with the job series in and series out rather than one who is remembered for any particularly stellar feats. That said despite the turning point of the match being Kapil Dev’s stunning catch to dismiss Vivian Richards Kirmani’s 14?? runs, faultless glovework and catch to dismiss Faoud Bacchus in India’s famous 1983 World Cup is certainly memorable.

The layout of the book is an interesting one. The first 74 pages are Kirmani’s own story so, effectively, an autobiography. That is the followed by his two co-authors acting as biographers and their contributions are followed by a series of tributes from the great and the good of Indian cricket. Finally there is also an instructional chapter which, I have to say, is of such brevity as to not be of any great value if for no other reason than I cannot imagine that too many of an age where coaching will do them any? good are going to be reading the book.

But that one is but a minor problem. The real issue with the book is that it appears no fact checking has been done, and the errors are not mere matters of detail, but the sort that make you? doubt the veracity of everythin??g you read. Examples are the suggestion that Farokh Engineer, who didn’t make the trip, kept wicket for India during their famous series victory in the Caribbean in 1970/71, and that Pochiah Krishnamurthy wasn’t there when in fact he kept in all five Tests, the only ones of his career,

According to Kirmani Andy Roberts and Michael Holding were two of the West Indies pace bowlers in that historic series, although in fact Roberts didn’t debut for another four years and Holding for five. On the subject of Holding he, with the christian name Robert, is also stated to have been involved in the West Indies series in India in 1974/75. Add to that a not inconsid??erable number of misspellings and grammatical errors and you have a book in respect of which the pleasure of reading it is much diminished.

The other problem with the autobiographical section is that it is, I am afraid, rather too much about Kirmani himself. That he has legitimate grievances against selectors and administrators I do not doubt, and there is interest in the points he make?s. That said there is so much about those issues that at times his reader begins to wonder whether he actually enjoyed his career at all.

And? there is another disappointment. Kirmani might well prove to be the last wicketkeeper to play with a bowling attack dominated by spinners. In his early Tests he would be keeping to three of the great quartet of Bedi, Prasanna, Chandra and Venkat. Even in his final Test India were still playing three front line spinners in Shivlal Yadav, Ravi Shastri and Laxman Si?varamakrishnan. His thoughts on the changes the game has been through would have been very welcome.

In relation to the biographical chapters those suffer too from factual errors and misspellings and at times the prose itself struck me as very florid – Neville Cardus and one or two others have had the style and command of the English language to get away with that but not, for me at least, Sengupta and Pathak. The narrative is also too hagiographical to add anything of substance to what Kirmani has already written.

The tributes chapter is also hagiographical, but that is only to be expected and this is certainly the most satisfying part of the book and a great deal of effort must have gone in to securing the assistance of 29 contributors, opponents of Kirmani as well as teammates. There is still the occasional glitch however, Mike Brearley’s surname being misspelt, although he is at least allowed to spell Alan Knott’s surname correctly – to put that in context Alan Nott would be the ‘keeper in a distinctly useful misspelled name eleven that could be put together from the proof reading slips.

Had the publisher simply invested in a rigorous editor Stumped would have been a better book and indeed, in the right hands Kirmaniâ€??™s life, times and? thoughts on the game could have produced a very good one. Sadly whilst it is not wholly lacking in merit this is not that book.

Exactly how the authors chose the items featured is unclear, but they have arranged them in such a way as to tell the story of Victor Trumper. They start with a classic photo of his stance on the 1902 tour and an evocative quote by Mrs C.B. Fry, although I have always wondered if this was actually written by her husband ��i>Trumper is an artist. Someday someone will paint his portrait…standing on short green grass against a blue sky; he will be waiting for the ball, the orchestra to strike up�

My imagination was captured by two?? items. The first is a picture of the front of the Sydney sports store that Trumper owned with fellow Test cricketer Hanson Carter. We learn that Trumper was a poor business man, who would often give away stock to young boys. Also at the store Trumper and a few othe?rs formalised the breakaway Rugby League association that would eventually takeover from Rugby as the main football code in NSW and Queensland. 

The other is a letter written by Trumper to a young fan. Apart from his beautiful handwriting, the authors dissect the topics covered in the letter and then provide details of the 12 year old fan �Robert Coningsby?? �whom the letter was written to. Trumper gave some cricketing pointers as well as some lifestyle advice such as avoiding nicotine and alcohol. To their credit the authors not only provide a sh??ort bio of Coningsby, they have tracked down his enlistment picture from World War II.

This is a lovingly produced publication with items that will be mouth watering to the cricket c??ollector. What is particularly enjoyable are the stories that accompany the items featured, as well as some of the quotes included, with the best being the description of ??Trumper, by journalist AG Johnny Moyes, part of which is reproduced below;

�i>when he came he opened the windows of the mind to a new vision of what batting could be…and those of us who saw him in his most gracious days can never forget�

I thoroughly enj??oyable production with all photos produced in co?lour, this book should be owned by all cricket collectors.

I feel sure I once read somewhere that being Lara’s ghost was a difficult assignment, characterised by missed appointments and, when Lara could be tied down, snatched minutes at less than congenial venues. So I did have my doubts about this one, but if nothing else there need be no concerns that Lara did other than put many hours into this project, and that what are clearly his thoughts and opinions are convincingly articu?lated by Walker.

Lara: The England Chronicles is an autobiography, but not a complete one. Lara does, in the traditional manner, set out his roots and his upbringing but, once the cricket begins, the book concentrates on his games in or a??gainst England. Further volumes based on Africa, Asia and Australasia will in time make Lara’s the most detailed account of a cricket career ever assembled.

Such treatment is probably justified. Lara’s career began at a time when the West Indies were still world beaters but his development as a batsman coincided with the long years of decline. When he started out the West Indies team contained legendary names like Greenidge, Haynes, Richards, Richardson, Marshall, Ambrose, Bishop and Walsh. By the time his Test career ended the only legends left were himself and Shiv Chanderpaul.

And Lara has not simply produced an anodyne account of what happened. No one reading his story can be anything other than impressed with the amount of thought that he put into what he was doing at the time, and revisiting that in order to get his story into print. It is notable that he has offended some, Carl Hooper and Viv Richards being two in particular who have described gross misrepresentations and passages that are categorically false and have ??jointly called on Lara to issue a sincere apology for the har??m caused.

Which I suppose must raise the possibility that Lara has perhaps overplayed his hand, or even sought to settle old scores, although as a reader I certainly didn’t get that impression. As anyone who has been in such a situation should realise where individuals are thrown together in relationships where emotions can, for whate?ver reason, run high their d??ifferent perspectives are inevitably going to give rise to conflicting recollections.

In any event Lara is as critical of himself as, at times, he is of others and he certainly giv??es the impression of being entirely honest with his audience, at times not with out a degree of brutality. In addition there is certainly one episode which Lara need not have told his readers about, when in 1999 he booked into a clinic in New York for a psychiatric assessment. The results of the assessment are illuminating, as is the shrewd advice that Lara received there.

Whether the publication of Lara’s story in four separate and distinct parts is going to work in terms of the individual books making, collectively, a single coherent narrative I have to say I am not entirely convinced. The story will not be seamless, but depending on the precise contents of each book I suppose it must be possible that it will set a new template for others to follow, or at least those few whose cricketing lives and careers are as interesting as those of Brian Lara. Either way at the present time all we have is The England Chronicles, and that is most certainly a compelling read.

Editor Ronald Car??dwell explains that although his cricketing loyalties are with the Sydney based St. George cricket club, he knows some old G??DCC players including authors James Cattlin and Paul Stephenson. You’d imagine this friendship and Cardwell’s fascination with all things Trumper sealed the deal for the production of this tribute book.

As always with this publisher, the final product is of high quality, with lovely photographs of so??me of Gordon’s finest cricketers and the pavilion itself. For the cricket tragic the old pics of the Gordon ?teams featuring Trumper, Frank Iredale and Charlie Macartney are indicative of the proud history of the GDCC.

I have to admit that apart from Trumper and Macartney, I was unaware of just? how m?any great players the club has produced. Some of the early players were fine cricketers such as Johnny Taylor, Charles Kelleway, Bert Oldfield and Ginty Lush. Later Neil Harvey joined the club after his move from Melbourne. These and others are covered in a quality chapter by Cardwell and Cattlin. The story of journalist and cricketer Johnny Moyes by Paul Stephenson is also a first class read.

The book commences with a brief history of both GDCC and the Chatswood Oval, before?? a chapter on the building of the Trumper Pavilion. These early chapters are written by Cardwell an??d the last informs just how much effort went into raising the funds for the pavilion back in the early 1920s.

Many of Gordon’s favourite sons were contacted, and provide their cherished memories of?? both the club and the Trumper pavilion. Some of the stor?ies will be unknown to most readers including stories of a couple of Trumper’s relatives who played for the club.

Apart from the GDCC, the?? oval and Trumper pa?vilion are also utilised by the Gordon Rugby Club and, appropriately, there are a few pics and reminiscences by the Rugger lads. Well known Rugby commentator Norm Tasker provides some context including the fact that the Rugby team has been at the oval for 90 years. Tasker is well known to cricket book readers for his collaborations with the Australian voice of cricket Alan McGilvray.

At just 100 pages, this is an engaging snap shot of the Trumper pavilion and its impact on the players of both the GDCC and the Gordon Rugby club. In the Shadows of the Trumper Pavilion captures what it’s like to be part of a cricket club, including all the camaraderie and sense of belonging. The fact that the GDCC has one of? the most celebrated histories in Australian cricket lends itself to such quality reminisces.