Would I have been a better cricketer had I not taken a break in my twenties?

in my book Turning the Pebbles: A Life in Cricket and in the MindI quote the American psychoanalyst Salman Akhtar’s response to the question of whether a person who has been helped by treatment for their emotional difficulties is indistinguishable from a person who has never had them. Akhtar offered an analogy: Imagine two beautiful vases on a shelf, he says. A wind comes up and blows you away. This vase breaks into pieces. It is being carefully and expertly reassembled to look almost exactly the same as the one that wasn’t blown away but with traces of cracks. But this vase knows something that the other vase doesn’t. It knows what it means to overcome difficulties and recover.

I’ve often wondered if the analogy applies to athletes like me who have taken time off from professional sports to pursue other pursuits. Would I have been better at cricket if I hadn’t spent several years playing it in my twenties? Have cracks developed in my technology that needed to be repaired? Or have other strengths emerged along the way that would not have existed without this interruption?

It’s impossible to know. But maybe there is something to be said.

I registered as a professional cricketer in July 1964, just after playing for my university for four years as an undergraduate. I continued like this for the next 15 months. In the English winter of 1964-65 I was a young hopeful on the final tour of apartheid South Africa organized by Marylebone Cricket Club (MCC).

In 1965, at the age of 23, I gave up this potential career and went back to Cambridge to do my PhD. In 1966 I got a job as a research assistant at a branch of the University of California, Irvine, south of Los Angeles. In the middle of that academic year, I was captain of the MCC U25 team in Pakistan. I returned to Los Angeles after short but unforgettable stays in India, Nepal, Cambodia, Hong Kong and Tokyo. The following year I was appointed Lecturer in Philosophy at Newcastle University, where I taught for almost three years before resigning in 1971 to accept an offer to return to cricket, this time as captain Middlesex.

Today, promising cricket students are invited to choose a full-time county contract rather than a degree

I’ve played a few games for Middlesex (first and second team) over the past five years, but only after the summer semester and I’ve only made the squad when it suited me. I had also played half a season for Cambridgeshire and two part-seasons for Percy Main in the Northumberland League.

Looking back, I saw that I was a little more casual about cricket at the time. It had felt like a pleasant hobby. For example, once I was on holiday in Provence and Italy for two weeks or more: when I got back on a Monday I found a letter inviting me to play for Middlesex against Lancashire at Lord’s two days later. I should open the cotton. I asked Mike Smith, my opening teammate, what Peter Lever and Ken Shuttleworth did with the ball: “Not a lot of momentum,” he said. Lever’s first ball swung away and hit my outside edge. The second conquered the outer edge. Mike apologetically said you never know what these smart, fast bowlers will come up with next!

Today, promising cricket students are invited to opt for a full-time county contract at the age of 19 rather than pursuing a degree. A commitment to cricket instead of flirting! Alastair Cook, for example, decided against studying in Durham and switched to Essex. At the age of 21 he played for England. A cricketer generation earlier, Mike Atherton made the more traditional choice and went to Cambridge.

Like other sports, cricket has become radically more professional over the last 60 years. When I started, some talented athletes were able to split the game between cricket and football. Best known were the Compton brothers, who played for Arsenal until the end of April and then for Middlesex for the next five months. This would not be possible now. When I was growing up, it was considered unnecessary—even presumptuous—to own a tracksuit or play sports.

In the meantime, early and continuous specialization has become a matter of course. There are youth academies in the counties. they have more than one trainer; Professional players have contracts for a year and not just for the summer. Each county has digital tools for technology; Every player has diet and training disciplines. The players are observed more closely. There is a feeling that team spirit requires constant bonding.

When I started, some talented athletes were able to split the game between cricket and football.

In his famous book Beyond a limit, asks CLR James, echoing a question posed by Rudyard Kipling: ‘What do those who only know cricket know about cricket?’ There is a lot to that feeling, but it’s not easy to strike the right balance. On the one hand there is the danger of narrow-minded determination, on the other hand amateurism.

In my case, I was slow to develop a reliable hitting technique. I’ve never committed to a single coach or mentor, nor have I worked hard enough to fix mistakes.

For example, it took me years to break the early habit of playing “inside out” (meaning the racquet moves from the leg side to the offside side). And I’ve seldom managed to develop into a less tense, less stiff upper-lip courage against the best fast bowlers. I also never quite figured out how to score against them, even if I could stay in; I never quite understood the importance of putting weight on the front foot so that faster bowlers have to worry about being pushed.

On the other hand, CLR James was right. How much have I learned about teams outside of cricket? How much more comfortable have my life experiences made me feel in other contexts? Have I returned to cricket fresher after my absence? Could I, at least as a captain, be more adventurous? (I remember the Middlesex selection manager telling me that a player complained about me putting the outfield players in odd positions, but then admitted that amazingly the ball kept going to them!)

I have no regrets about my years away from cricket. I regret not having worked more on my technique. But I’m not sure I would have done much better had I been under contract as a cricketer during those formative years.