Free No Boundaries by Ronnie Irani Page A

Durham, and I needed to find out exactly what was on offer. Durham was quite an attractive proposition – they were only a couple of years into the county championship scene, had already attracted people like Ian Botham, Aussie David Boon, Johnny Morris, David Graveney, Paul Parker, Simon Hughes and Wayne Larkins, and I was reliably informed they were very keen to sign me. In addition, it was only a couple of hours away from home, which would be an advantage in view of my growing relationship with Lorraine and also getting back to see my parents. We all talked about it for hours, going over the pros and cons. The only thing I was certain of was that I desperately wanted to make it as a player and would do whatever it took to achieve that goal. Lorraine was brilliant, listening as I argued this way and that, and always said, ‘Whatever you decide is best, I’ll back you.’
    I tried to get hold of Geoff Cook at Durham to find out what deal they had in mind. He wasn’t an easy man to reach.I spoke to his wife more than to him but eventually he told me they would pay me £ 18,000 a year and would try to get me a car and accommodation. There were a few bits and pieces I needed clarification on but each time I phoned it seemed that Geoff was in a meeting or away for a couple of days. I sensed he was after some bigger names and possibly juggling a budget. I guessed he didn’t want to settle with me until he’d got his first targets in place and knew how much they would cost. I understood and respected that. I’d done nothing in the game so far and certainly wasn’t the kind of star name who was going to put bums on seats at their matches.
    The longer I agonised about it, the more I was leaning towards Essex. They were a big club and had won the county championship five times in the previous ten years. I liked the fact that they had a long tradition and wore old-fashioned jumpers with no colours, just the distinctive three-sabre badge. That was the kind of county I wanted to play for.
    I rang John Bird, whose office is in Essex. The more I’d got to know him, the more I valued his advice and he said, ‘Durham or Kent would be good for you, but I think you should play for Essex.’
    ‘Why, John?’
    ‘I employ people in every town in the country and the people of Essex are the nicest. They are genuine and warm, and if they have a problem with you they will stab you in the heart, not in the back. They have a lot of the best qualities of northerners but mixed with what’s best about the south. I’m sure they will love the way you play cricket and will make you feel at home.’
    I wanted to play cricket for people like that. As John Lennon said, ‘A working-class hero is something to be.’
    I needed to talk to Sav and make sure it was still on. Asusual, there was a snag – I’d forgotten to get his phone number and I could hardly ask at Old Trafford after my recent chat with the chairman. I remembered that John Crawley had been born in Malden in Essex before the family moved up to Lancashire. It was a long shot but worth a try. John’s mother Jean had always been tremendous for me, taking her turn in driving John and me around to county representative matches, and his dad Frank was one of the guys you listened to when you were growing up because he always talked sense. I rang Jean and asked her if she’d got Sav’s number. She hunted around for a bit, then came back and said, ‘I haven’t got a number but there’s an address here. He lives in Great Notley, near Braintree. Try directory enquiries.’
    There was no joy there, but, just as I was wondering what to do next, Jean phoned me back and said she’d managed to get hold of an office number for him. I thanked her for taking so much trouble and she said, ‘Ronnie, we are sorry you are leaving Lancashire but you are a fine cricketer and we know you are going to make it wherever you go. Good luck.’ It was just the encouragement I needed at that moment.
    Jean