Andrew Flintoff

The promise of Fred

Flintoff did for British cricket what Botham did, invigorating and replenishing. He brought fresh hope for the game's future

Rob Steen

August 14, 2009

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A relaxed Andrew Flintoff at the nets, St Lucia, April 2, 2009
An unreconstructed schoolboy and bon viveur, a stranger to fear, lost causes and self-analysis © Getty Images
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Players/Officials: Andrew Flintoff | Sir Ian Botham
Teams: England

As far as I know, the only professional sportsman to inspire a cartoon series was Yogi Berra, the New York Yankees catcher and stupendously daft ha'pworth who was inventively recast as Yogi Bear. That Andrew Flintoff owes his nickname, Freddie, to another animated icon, Fred Flintstone, a Stone Age Homer Simpson, a fellow so flawed but well meaning that you always root for him, is just one of the innumerable reasons for my affection.

Yogi (the baseballer) may not have been smarter than the average bear - "Ninety per cent of this game is half mental," was one of his more accurate proclamations - but he did have a way with profundities. "You can't win all the time," he once reasoned. "There are guys out there who are better than you." To watch Flintoff is to suspect that, much as he disagrees with the latter assertion, it wouldn't upset him terribly to be proved wrong. Among peers (if not in his 2003-06 pomp), Jacques Kallis, Shakib-al-Hasan and Daniel Vettori may be his superior as multi-string pluckers, but none gladdens so many unbiased hearts, nor opens so many blinkered ones.

The danger with confessionals such as this is that they confirm how little we change. Despite having enjoyed nearly 10 decades on Planet Earth, EW Swanton, to take one depressing example, never relinquished a single pang of his boyhood passion for Frank Woolley. So protective was EW that he once strode into the dressing room at Canterbury and urged Steve Marsh, captain of his beloved Kent, to declare: Matty Walker, an amiable journeyman, was poised to break Woolley's hallowed ground record. To his undying credit, Marsh resisted the entreaties, leaving Walker to overturn EW's sepia-toned view of the way things should be.

Trouble is, I'm partial to change. Just as one's favourite book, musician, comedian or jam may alter with the acquisition of experience, wisdom and taste, so one's sporting predilections evolve. Especially when writing about sport becomes your livelihood, instilling a different, or at least more rounded, perspective.

I've worn out seven champions, each choice reflecting needs and times: Tom Graveney (cricketer as artist), Basil D'Oliveira (cricketer as political symbol), Phil Edmonds (rebel and stylist), David Gower (latter-day Graveney; standard-bearer for sport as good-mannered entertainment), Phil Tufnell (Edmonds squared) and Mohammad Azharuddin (Gower cubed). After Azhar's plummet from grace I found investing emotion in a sportsman impossible. Flirting with unseen ancients - George Headley, Frank Worrell - proved as satisfying as kissing a ghost. Then, in the summer of 2004, Flintoff came of age and I fell hook, line and sinker.

As a rule journalists glean as much glee from being proved wrong as they once derived from Prohibition, but I couldn't be more delighted that Flintoff has made me munch my words. After an infuriatingly sloppy knock for Lancashire in 2002, I suggested his prospects of fruitful maturation were being stymied by a reluctance to engage his brain. I could claim I was being intentionally provocative, trying to stir him out of his stupor, but that would be a fairly massive fib.

Inevitably, all his subsequent all-round derring-doings have stirred endless comparisons with one IT Botham, another unreconstructed schoolboy and bon viveur, another stranger to fear, lost causes and self-analysis, another sportsman whose reputation rests on one prolonged streak of magical omnipotence followed by years of pain, self-delusion and sub-par-dom. After the 2005 Ashes, at 27, Flintoff, by then on song and on fire for more than two years, was still on the rise, capable of anything, maybe everything; at the same age most of Botham's finest hours were memories.

Injury, though, soon whipped the carpet from beneath that galloping run-up, leaving only fleeting flashes of the Flashman of yore, of which the most fondly remembered will surely be that 10-over match-winning spell on the final day of this year's Lord's Ashes Test, sealing as it did England's first Ashes victory there since Hitler was taking the new ball for the Germans. All eyes were on him that Monday morning, every emotion riding on him: only he could banish all those ghosts and fears. How he thrived on the responsibility, the demands, the expectations. After snaring his fifth victim, his first such haul in a Test at HQ, he knelt down and closed his eyes, savouring a moment he thought might never arrive. Victory was still one wicket away but still a nation rejoiced.

 
 
When Freddie takes guard, even now, even in his cricketing dotage, everybody wants a front-row pew. He still symbolises possibility, still radiates joy
 

When push comes to shove, Botham's Test figures, with bat and ball, are considerably more striking and enduring, while Flintoff levels the score in ODIs. But this is not an homage to digits and decimal points.

As with Botham, the obvious allure is that muscular, breezy innocence: can it truly be that easy to turn work into play? In other respects, they're galaxies apart. Botham's success was rooted in that anti-authoritarian, how-dare-you-question-me snarl and Thatcherite sneer, fertilised by the indomitability of the born show-off. Flintoff is less carefree and more sophisticated than he looks, but that's not saying much. Those massive shoulders appear chip-free, the grin so disarming you want to, well, cuddle him.

In most mouths, sledging is the most dubious form of wit, but Flintoff defies objections. Shortly after Tino Best came in to bat at Lord's in 2004 came some smirking advice from the hulking blond in the slips: "Mind the windows, Tino." Next ball, the belligerent Bajan was stumped, charging. The ensuing roar of laughter stemmed less from schadenfreude than sheer disbelief that an opponent should have swallowed the bait so readily.

In the same Test, Flintoff was clopping up the pavilion steps after a cheap dismissal when an MCC member swatted him with a rolled-up newspaper. Had it been Botham, who spent the rest of his career bridling after the same toffee-nosed gallery sent him to Coventry following a 1981 pair against Australia, the assailant would probably have suffered a volley of abuse or a crisp half-nelson. And deservedly so. Flintoff turned around briefly but rapidly concluded that identifying the culprit would be too lengthy and undignified a process.

Flintoff pushed my buttons partly because he seemed to have married the privilege of youth to the duties of manhood (the "Fredalo" incident put firmly paid to that delusion), but mostly because he embodied tomorrow, possibility, hope. In the middle of this decade he did for British cricket what Botham did a quarter of a century ago, beer in hand, capacious of heart, invigorating and replenishing. It is assuredly no coincidence that Channel 4 enjoyed its largest live audiences for four years during the Edgbaston Test of 2004, an auspicious prelude to 2005 and all that. Fearful of jinxing him, Tim Rice used to crouch behind the settee whenever David Gower came in; when Freddie takes guard, even now, even in his cricketing dotage, everybody wants a front-row pew. He still symbolises possibility, still radiates joy.

Forget the disappointments. Forget the excesses and the underachievements. At a time when the game, in Britain and beyond, was striving to court and spark a fresh generation, when we fortysomethings could hear only the hissing of long gone summer lawns and had begun to despair that our children would ever be remotely as turned on by flannelled tomfoolery as we were, along plodded Freddie to banish all scepticism. Yabba-dabba-do.

Rob Steen is a sportswriter and senior lecturer in sports journalism at the University of Brighton. This article is an updated version of one that was first published in Wisden Asia Cricket magazine in 2004

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Posted by KingOgle on (August 16, 2009, 18:43 GMT)

What a load of rose tinted rubbish. Flintoff may be the best allrounder(performance rather than Chris Lewis talent) since Botham, he almost qualifies to clean his boots. What detracts from him is this 'cult of Freddie'. He is a cricketer not a deity and for people to suggest that the ashes depend soley on him is unfair tio he rest of the team (despite the selectors appearing to have buried their heads in the sand). If the rest of the team cannot perform without him they should not be selected even bearing in mind that all the hype regardingwill he won't he. If one man is bigger than the team( particulary one with fairly average returns then we need a new team and new selectors.

Posted by Itchy on (August 16, 2009, 4:22 GMT)

ChairmanValvod, I have to disagree. As an Australian it pains me a little to say this, but Vettori may end up with better figures than Flintoff because he utilises his modest talents to good effect, not waste them. Vettori toughs out bad team situations (and there have been plenty) by force of will and personality and puts the team above himself. No one will argue that Flintoff is more talented but neither will they argue that he hasn't got the best out of his talents.

My enduring image of Flintoff will be his Jesus Christ pose - except rather than be crucified for his overall modest returns he has been lauded for the occasional fine performance.

Posted by corpusninja on (August 15, 2009, 17:36 GMT)

Oh please, he has a massive ego, strutting around like he owns the ground. Just look at him after taking a wicket, standing there in a 'come adore me' pose. Yes, he occasionally bowls fast and straight spells, but that's about it. Most accomplished batsman have dealt pretty comfortably with him. With the bat he's more miss than hit. But since England have failed to produce any true champions since 2000 except for Pietersen, it's not surprising he's so adored.

Posted by bira on (August 15, 2009, 4:52 GMT)

fred was probably the greatest alrounder of this generation.howmany ofthis generation have taken on the might of aussies single handedly and come with flying colours. he has done that time and again.hats of to freddie .test cricket will miss him.

Posted by nadeeka2 on (August 14, 2009, 18:22 GMT)

The thing about Flintoff is that although he might not take the match-winning five wicket haul or a vital century, but he provides moments of magic and brilliance that can lift his whole team and make the game worth watching. There is joy and fun in watching Freddie do well, even if it is against your own country. One of Test cricket's greatest features is that it gives great moments that you remember for a life time. Flintoff has given many such moments. Thanks Freddie for all the fun, we will miss seeing you in Tests.

Posted by ChairmanValvod on (August 14, 2009, 15:11 GMT)

Cheers Rob. I suffered a similar bout of angst and despair and frankly a level of personal frustration with the fall of Azhar, whom I idolized as a kid, and frankly still think there is no one that can make batting look so beuatiful an art as did he. As far as Flintoff, his figures are mediocare compared to the actual level of talent and might of presence he brought to the field. Truly an enigmatic figure and Icon, and one of the true "Superstars Next Door", if there is ever such a thing. Although I do admit, it is a bit frustating to see that Flintoff has fallen way short of what is expected of such a talent, I mean can you imagine, someone like Vettori could end up with better all round figures than flintoff bh the end of his career. That is simply frustrating because anyone that watches cricket knows that Vettori, as good as he may be (and I dont think he is that good), is no where in the vicinity of an Andrew Flintoff. Nevertheless, well done Fred. Wish you all the best.

Posted by MartinAmber on (August 14, 2009, 12:33 GMT)

You say that "at 27... most of Botham's finest hours were memories." That may be true, but it's massively disingenuous, as surely you know. After the age of 27 (November 1982), Botham hit three Test centuries to Flintoff's one. He definitely enjoyed more five-wicket hauls after 27 than Flintoff did in his entire career, because there were at least two in each of the home series against the West Indies (1984) and Australia (1985). One of those was his second eight-wicket haul, and that at Lord's against Lloyd's 1984 West Indians, arguably the greatest Test side of the last 30 years. He took 31 wickets in the home Ashes series of 1985 (more than anyone else and more than Flintoff in 2005). I have no beef against Flintoff, but seeing as you co-wrote the wonderful "500-1" book about Headingley '81 and know your history, do you not think that some younger readers could do with knowing how much better a Test performer Botham actually was?

Posted by ChrisPartlow on (August 14, 2009, 11:17 GMT)

The most overrated player of the modern era. That does not mean that I don't think that he was a fine player for England. But if you divide his column inches by his achievements, he has to be the most overrated. And he wasn't even all that exciting to watch. Yes, he bowled some brilliant spells through the year's and played the odd bashing innings, but they came so far and few between, that you have to wonder where all the hype comes from. Of course, it is just another manifestation of the unbelievable hype around the Ashes and the importance that England, especially, put on one series. It's is not only foolish, but also insulting to the rest of the cricket world.

Posted by TANJAS on (August 14, 2009, 6:15 GMT)

Andrew Flintoff probably is not as good a cricketer as Rob Steen is a writer

Posted by dsig3 on (August 14, 2009, 3:50 GMT)

Obviously an example of Flintoff's effect on the media and general public. As a non-Englishman I dont feel the same way. Its all well and good to appreciate and be attracted by his personality but England should have done so much more with him. He should have taken his bowling much more seriously or been made too. You guys have had two 6ft7 guys over the last 10 years who bowl at 150km/hr. Even the west indies never had that. But you largely wasted the lot. I dream of what my team could achieve if we had just one of them, I'll wager more than England.

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Rob Steen Rob Steen is a sportswriter and senior lecturer in sports journalism at the University of Brighton, whose books include biographies of Desmond Haynes and David Gower (Cricket Society Literary Award winner) and 500-1 - The Miracle of Headingley '81. His investigation for the Wisden Cricketer, "Whatever Happened to the Black Cricketer?", won the UK section of the 2005 EU Journalism Award "For diversity, against discrimination"

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