Free Mr Cricket by Michael Hussey

an Enforcer, for instance, why would you want to get into an on-field confrontation with them? That’s exactly what they want. So, the obvious tactic should be to make sure you don’t look at them, don’t talk to them or try to get into a confrontation with them. There’s no point. An Enforcer wants to be in a battle, so it’s best to give them nothing. Another option against Enforcers could be to make it a bit fun out there and have a laugh and a joke with your teammates – or even with the batsman himself – because he doesn’t want you to do that. The Enforcer wants to be in a fight and refusing to give him that will make him feel uneasy.
    Every cricket team considers what a batsman wants – and they try to give him the opposite. Sometimes, however, testosterone takes over and it can be hard to restrain yourself from having a go at a batsman if he’s just smashed you over mid-on. What works in theory is sometimes very hard to put into practice.
    Personality analysis is just as important off the field. I’ve come across so many different types of people on my life’s journey and now, playing international cricket, these encounters are amplified to a new level. An international cricketer’s life involves a lot more than just playing cricket. Our job is to win games, but we also have to make sure everything is running smoothly with managers, fans, sponsors, teammates, coaches, administrators and media, in Australia and in numerous other countries. Life’s rich pageant.
    In the space of my first three seasons in English county cricket, for example, I came across two vastly different coaches, with different styles and opposite personalities. In my first season at Northamptonshire, in 2001, I was the club’s only overseas player and therefore felt a great desire to prove to them that the investment had been worthwhile. That meant not only scoring runs but fitting well into the team dynamic. In the second season, those responsibilities took on a new dimension when I was made captain. Learning how to interact with the coaches and balancing competing demands at a time when I had these new challenges to contend with taught me an incredible amount about myself and, importantly, how best to deal with different types of people.
    Northamptonshire’s
coach was Bob Carter, who is now the assistant coach to John Bracewell in New Zealand. Bob was a very caring man who would do anything for his players. I was pretty fresh and a bit nervous. Bob sensed that and set about making sure Amy and I were set up as well as possible. Bob’s belief was that if a player’s home life is happy, then he would have his best chance at playing good cricket for the club. We didn’t have any kids at the time, but Bob bent over backwards to ensure Amy was happy, the place we were staying in was good, the car was running well and that we had everything we needed to feel settled in England.
    Bob took the time to get to know me, both as an individual and as a cricketer. He became aware that I was a very hard self-marker and was holding myself back with little doubts here and there. As a way to alleviate that he began talking to me about ‘trusting my game’. At first I didn’t register what he was saying. I thought what he meant was that if, for instance, I was in a tough situation, I should trust that I was good enough to go for it and try to bat my way out of the problem. But that wasn’t it. Trusting my game, according to Bob, meant that if I was in a dogfight and didn’t even look like scoring a run I should trust that I would be able to stick it out by employing my tactics and approach and playing my natural game. If I believed in myself and my game, I’d come out the other end. He drummed that into me constantly. He would often say that he thought I had the best technique of any batsman he’d seen. I don’t know if he truly believed that, but he would