Green and bland
Alastair Cook's autobiography offers little that's new or interesting
Freddie Auld
12-Oct-2008
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It would be far too easy to compare Alastair Cook's new autobiography with his batting: determined and dependable, with the odd thrill. But sadly, it isn't even that. For determined, read drab; for dependable, "dreary"; and as for the odd thrill, er, Cook had a game of darts with Freddie and Harmy on the eve of his Test debut. And that's about as good as it gets.
Most Cooky fans, of whom I am one myself, will be disappointed with his first, shamefully premature effort. The blurb promises a "fascinating insight" into one of the most "exciting and brightest players to burst on to the cricketing scene in recent years". So I was hoping for juicy anecdotes about the Essex dressing room, the latter years of Duncan Fletcher's reign, the disastrous Ashes campaign, the jelly bean files, and Michael Vaughan's retirement. But no.
Once you get past Cook's early years - where he attended St Paul's Cathedral School as a promising chorister - the book is mostly a combination of condensed match reports of Tests and ODIs mixed with Cook's run-of-the-mill views on walking, sledging, captaincy, and the advent of Twenty20.
Cook points to the influence of Graham Gooch and Andy Flower in his early years at Essex, and how a season of club cricket in Perth helped him develop. After deciding not to go to university, against the advice of the Essex authorities, he looks back with pride on his 214 against the touring Australians at Chelmsford, which, as he says, "made my name". Then comes his unexpected call up to the full squad in India from the A tour in the Caribbean, a journey he shared with Jimmy Anderson, who he is now best mates with. Before Cook knew it, he was walking out to open the batting in Nagpur, and in his own words, "Strauss said 'good luck' in his posh accent, and away we went."
His champagne moment, following his 60 in the first innings with a remarkable debut hundred, was an ecstasy he says he has not experienced before or since. When he was sweating on 99, Kevin Pietersen had a sweepstake on how many balls Cook would take the reach his landmark, but disappointingly Cook can't remember how many it actually took, or who won the cash.
In the endless match reports that follow, he speaks of his surprising friendship with the northerners in the England team: Anderson, Paul Collingwood and Steve Harmison. He also reveals his superstition about odd numbers: hence why he has an even number on his shirt, and why he only has the volume of his radio on 8 or 10. The chapter on the Ashes is disappointingly bland, with the usual stuff of how the Aussies rip you to bits on the pitch but are great value off it. And the jelly-bean mystery remains unresolved, as Cook strongly denies any part in the bizarre saga that left Zaheer Khan hot under the helmet.
Cook does reveal that the ECB asked him to have a chinwag with Mike Brearley, which suggests that he may have inherited the FEC (future England captain) tag from Pietersen, but again he doesn't elaborate on what was said. After Vaughan stood down, Cook admitted the England captaincy was too early for him. It is certainly too early to start writing books about yourself.
Perhaps I expected too much, but there wasn't much in this I didn't already know, and what I did discover wasn't particularly interesting. However, even though Cook's Story So Far isn't exactly riveting, here's hoping that Cook waits until his story is complete before his next effort.
Starting Out: My Story So Far
by Alastair Cook
Hodder and Stoughton £19.99

by Alastair Cook
Hodder and Stoughton £19.99
