One Hell of a Life/biography of Brian Close by Stephen Chalke
Personally, whilst I respected Brian Close, not least for his often reckless courage, he was never a favourite of mine – there was too much of the curmudgeonly Yorkshireman for me. Stephen Chalke is more sympathetic of “Closey”.
Close had the longest first class career of any cricketer. He made his Test debut aged 18 and his final Test appearance aged 46.
In between he played 22 Tests, 7 as captain – victorious in each of them.
He attributed his few appearances to southern public school bias but his average at Test and county level was just 35 and he never scored a double century.
Having known Ted Dexter, I believe the two got on well, notwithstanding their different backgrounds. They would have played golf together and chatted during the round about their mutual love of gambling on horses. Close would often drive whilst reading a racing newspaper on his lap.
He was a natural mathematician, had been on the books of Arsenal and was a scratch golfer. He was a canny – though not always popular captain – winning the county championship for Yorkshire four seasons running.
Yorkshire is a tough county to skipper. Brian Sellers was an autocratic chairman and Johnny Wardle, Ray Illingworth, Bill Athey and Brian Close all departed.
Close left for Somerset and – though he had criticised for being too hard on youngsters at Yorkshire – the young Ian Botham prospered under him.
Though he relied on Ray Illingworth’s astute cricket brain, they were never close, nor was Fred Trueman who was born in the same year.
He fielded at short leg without a helmet. Once, whilst at Somerset, he was struck on the forehead by a mighty drive from Mike Proctor and the rebound was caught behind the wicket. “Supposing the ball had hit you on the temple?” asked a concerned Graham Burgess. “He would have been caught at gully” came Close’s reply.
He was witty but never admitted to his mistakes – it was usually someone else’s fault.
He faced down two of the most lethal fast bowlers ever – Wes Hall and Mike Holding (Close was aged 46) by coming down the wicket swinging his bat. The bruises he suffered were the subject of his autobiography I Don’t Bruise Easily.
Though more known for his courage than his liberal views (he toured apartheid South Africa), Mike Holding was so upset to learn Close was dying of cancer that he determined to see him one last time before he passed.
Whilst Stephen Chalke skates over a Yorkshire recruitment policy of county birth which was only abolished in 1992, thirty years after the abolition of the amateur/professional distinction – and he adopts the current trend of critique of the southern alleged public school bias – this biography is a fair and eloquent summation of a great character, cricketer and sportsman who played not for money but for love of the game.
