Simon Hughes: On Fraser and Lewis (1 Aug 1998)

1 August 1998

Simon Hughes on Fraser and Lewis

The Electronic Telegraph

Chris Lewis and Angus Fraser: raisins and pearls. The tasty morsel that barely satisfies a basic hunger, and the highly polished gem becoming more and more precious with age. Fraser the trier, Lewis the trying. Both have left their typical mark on the week. Fraser, hand on heart, elbows thickly greased, won his country a crucial Test match, then looked suitably embarrassed when he was presented with the man-of-the-match award.

Lewis spoilt his fine work for Leicester in the NatWest Trophy with an ill-considered broadside at the England selectors having been excluded from the provisional World Cup squad. "They can't be picking purely on cricketing ability," he said.

He could have been suggesting that, as the selection panel include Mike Gatting and Graham Gooch, they were picking on eating ability. "They're full of ****," he added. Is the missing word 'pies?' Perhaps not. Whatever he meant, deeper analysis suggests they were looking at the facts. In Lewis's 53 one-day internationals he averages 14 with the bat and concedes a boundary an over. For a man of his obvious ability, it is disappointing to say the least.

Lewis suffers from a curious mixture of over-confidence and self doubt. An introverted mind encased inside an extrovert body. All those elaborate antics and gestures are just a cover up for someone who is essentially inhibited. There's proof, too. A couple of years ago, a sports psychologist visited the Surrey players, who included Lewis, at pre-season training. He gave each of them a character questionnaire. When he had analysed the answers, he privately gave each player a mark ranging from one (very shy) to 20 (very confident).

He chalked a line on the floor with stations from one to 20 marked out, then asked each player to stand on his mark. Most of the group lingered in the 12-18 area from where they stared in amazement at their esteemed all-rounder. Lewis was standing alone on two.

HE has huge talent. The trouble is he doesn't trust it. That explains the excuses, the PR stunts, the odd behaviour. Anything to bypass reality. Recently Courtney Walsh staged a fast bowling contest for his benefit, employing the speed-measuring technology in use at Test matches.

Lewis was supposed to take part along with Devon Malcolm, Walsh himself and several other invited quickies. A few minutes before the event was due to start, Lewis excused himself from the contest, saying he had a back injury and took no part. Yet the next day he was tearing into bowl in Walsh's benefit match at Cheltenham with no apparent discomfort.

Lewis and Fraser's career paths say much about their contrasting personalities. They played together in the Middlesex 2nd XI in 1986, two gangling enthusiasts. Lewis tried various run-ups, deliveries and counties from there on, and there may be more experiment and resettlement to come. Fraser is still ploughing the same furrow for Middlesex as he has always done. One approach, one action, one spot. Hell, he only attempted a slower ball for the first time about a month ago.

Fraser takes nothing for granted. He trails from one Test match to the next half-expecting to be dropped, gives his all with ball and bat, bowls forever against a stiff breeze, charges round the boundary like a man possessed, then has a beer with everyone afterwards.

While there is a rock star ostentatiousness to Lewis's midwicket celebrations, Fraser's are muted. Wickets are his expectation, after all, and one brief clench of the fist will suffice. His displeasure at letting go a loose ball - an anguished kick sending an imaginary shot soaring into the top corner - is far more animated.

He is in a misery league of his own in the dressing room, but that is a fast bowler's privilege and it's all in good humour. He is fond of referring to slip fielders as cardboard cut-outs. "Well, if you'd bent your back we might have had something to do," they retort and then nick his bath. He mutters an insult under his breath. A lofty 6ft 5in he is the Forrest 'Grump' of English cricket.

And his unyielding defiance is the reason England are still in the Test series. That heroic last ditch resistance at Old Trafford, stopping the Donald missiles with anything he could put in the way, (except the bat because it is unsponsored and he doesn't want to damage it) followed by 54 irresistible overs at Trent Bridge, showing his more lavishly garlanded colleagues the way to exploit a greenish pitch. It's the kind of all-round double Lewis has always promised for England but never provided. And after Tuesday's outburst, probably never will.

Source :: Electronic Telegraph (https://www.telegraph.co.uk)