Free No Boundaries by Ronnie Irani Page B

died a few years before I retired and, although she was a different generation from me, it was like losing a friend. I felt so sad for John and gave him a big hug as we both bawled our eyes out. We were no longer as close as we’d been as teenagers but I knew what it must mean to him. At the crematorium, I looked across at my parents who were of a similar age to Jean. They had done so much for me. I cut the thoughts off. It was just too painful to think about.
    When I called Sav’s number, I got an answering machine, so I left a message asking him to call me. I heard nothing for two agonisingly long weeks. I didn’t realise he was away on holiday and a million thoughts, most of them negative, keptgoing through my head while I waited for him to get back to me. I tried Geoff Cook again, but he was away. I was in limbo. Why hadn’t I signed that Lancashire contract when they pushed it across the desk at me?
    Finally, Sav rang me back. He’d had a word with the committee and he’d talked to Graham Gooch about me over a game of golf and they were happy to take his recommendation and sign me. He pointed out that there were no guarantees of a first-team place but, with Neil Foster and Derek Pringle recently retired, if I was half the cricketer he thought I was, I’d have a great chance of getting in the side. I assured him that was all I was asking for. It was all I’d ever asked for at Lancashire.
    ‘There’s a process to go through but it’s on,’ Sav said. ‘What are you after money-wise?’
    I wondered if I should mention that Durham had said they would pay me 18 grand but decided against it and just said, ‘That’s not my priority, Sav. I’m just happy to get the opportunity.’
    A couple of days later, he came on again after a meeting with the club secretary Peter Edwards and said they were willing to pay me £ 12,000 a year and provide me with a car and a flat. It was six grand less than the Durham offer but Geoff had only said they would try to get the car and a flat. I hesitated for all of a second and said, ‘Sav, that’s great. I’m up for it. I want to play for Essex.’
    What he didn’t realise was that I was only vaguely aware of where Essex was. I knew it was down south and left a bit before you hit London and I remembered that it was somewhere near the Dartford Tunnel because after Nick Derbyshire and I played for England U17s at Chelmsford we set off in his car for a second ODI at Canterbury but brokedown in the tunnel. I also had the feeling the sun always shone in Essex – or it had every time I’d played there. I recalled one four-day match with the second team on a great track. Ian Folley was in one of his ‘fuck Lancashire’ moods and, when he was sent in as night watchman, he heaved two massive sixes before squandering his wicket the following ball. We’d found some great bars that trip and I seem to recall that the team got quite hammered one night.
    I’d also been to Ilford as twelfth man for the first team – a terrible job that means you are basically a gofer who carries the drinks and does jobs around the dressing room. But during the game some of the Essex fans had come up to me and said they remembered me playing in the England U19s, which was nice. I liked the way the local crowd applauded good cricket, whichever side played it. I’d also had a good time in the evening around Romford and even sorted the lads out a table at the dog track courtesy of Coral. Essex may have been something of a dark continent to me, but the little I knew was positive.
    The other thing that Sav didn’t realise when he made the offer was that I’d been struggling for a few months with a groin injury that had spread to my hip towards the end of the season. I was in agony in the last few matches – it was as though someone was thrusting a knife into my hip joint – but I was young and could play through the pain without too much difficulty. Now I had a dilemma. I needed to get it fixed but I also