Interview: Derek Randall

When did your love of cricket start?
When I was eleven or twelve, I used to turn up to Retford with my kit – Saturdays, Sundays and Wednesday nights – and when they were short I’d field all day. Usually they were very good to young boys; they gave you a bit of a bat or a bowl. I managed to get into the first team there when I was thirteen, mainly because of my fielding. Retford was such an idyllic place to play cricket. On a Sunday evening you could field down at third man and hear the West Retford church bells chiming.

When did you first imagine you could make a career out of it?
I never thought for a minute I’d be good enough to play professional cricket. I just loved the game and things just happened and it was all thanks to a bit of good luck and divine intervention. Mike Hall, the captain of my club, was the captain of Notts second team when I started out, so that was lucky. He got me a game, I got a few runs, and it went on from there.

I suspect Mr Sobers was a major influence…
The greatest player I played with, without doubt. As a young lad, you’d see him in the dressing room: he’d have the TV on – always horse racing – and about six Slazenger cricket bats in the corner, all about 2lb 2oz. When a wicket fell he’d just switch off the TV, pick up any old bat, and off he’d go. The bloke was an absolute genius. He taught me the way cricket should be played. Number one: play hard. Number two: play fair. But most important, you’ve got to entertain the crowd. That was a wonderful bit of advice from the world’s best player.

What was your best memory of playing for Notts?
I loved rooming with Eddie Hemmings. We used to have a great laugh. The greatest memory for Notts was when Eddie hit that four against Essex at Lord’s with four needed off the last ball to win the Gillette Cup. I can still see the ball just beating Kenny McEwan down the hill to the Tavern boundary.

What about a worst memory for Notts?
It would be the NatWest final in 1985. We needed eighteen off the last over. I hit the first three balls for four, then a couple of twos, and on the last ball, with two needed, old Derek Pringle bowled me one down the legside, which I tried to flick through mid-wicket. It went straight up and we lost the game by one run. If I could change one thing, I would have let that ball go through for a wide, which would have been scores level, still one ball left.

Notts were also a strong team in the eighties, winning the Championship in 1985 with Clive Rice and Sir Richard Hadlee. Rumour has it that, um, conditions were prepared to suit their bowling skills…
When they played at Trent Bridge we occasionally lost the mower. Every week, actually. It was a shame that Clive – like the great South African players: Richards, Barlow, Proctor – didn’t play on the big stage but life is more important than sport.

The grass was indeed green here, but was it ever greener anywhere else?
It takes a bit of surviving in county cricket. I was always on a one or two-year contract, so you never really know where you are. If I’d had a bad season I could have had the sack as easy as anything, but I never thought about leaving Notts.

Your era for Notts coincided with the Forest glory years...
I met Brian Clough many times. He was a phenomenal Yorkshire cricket fan; cricket-wise he was a Yorkshireman through and through. A big mate of Boycott’s.

Boycott famously ran you out in an Ashes test at Trent Bridge.
It was one of those things. No hard feelings. If you wanted someone to get you fifty runs for your life it’d be Geoffrey Boycott.

Your highlight for England was the Centenary Test in 1977 when you made 174 in Melbourne with the Queen watching.
I batted for six and half hours in that game. There were 100,000 in this great big stadium. Eventually I got out and I’d got no idea which way to get off the ground. I got to an exit and there was a red carpet there. I thought, well I’ve had a pretty good day, that’s got to be for me. It was a great occasion. The evening before we had a gala dinner. There was Don Bradman, Ray Lindwall, Keith Miller. I was sat between two Nottinghamshire legends, Harold Larwood and Bill Voce, who both now have a pub named after them. It was the most wonderful night of my life. When Harold went to the toilet, I went with him just so I didn’t miss a story.

Perhaps one of the bigger disappointments in England colours would have been the 1979 World Cup final against West Indies, when Boycott and Brearley went slowly and you left yourself a bit too much to do.
We agreed that the way to win it was to not lose wickets, get a good platform. People like Larkins, Gooch, Gower, Botham, myself were all good stroke players. On reflection, Boycott and Brearley might have played a few more shots but they might also have got out and we lost quick wickets. So who can say. Whichever way you went about it was going to be difficult. They were such great bowlers – people like Joel Garner firing at the stumps – it wasn’t easy to get them away.

Did you feel hard done by not to play more for England?
A few weeks back Garry Sobers told me: “I said to the England selectors five years before you were picked that you should be playing for England.” But no, not really. I played 47 Test matches and every time I played was a wonderful occasion. I loved every one.

Who was the quickest bowler you faced?
Michael Holding. He hit me in the mouth in Tasmania, knocked me back over the stumps and put me in hospital for a week. But a lovely man.

You were the best fielder in the world in your era. What was your best run out?
During the Ashes in 1977 I ran Rick McCosker out at Headingley. That one stands out. Or the 1979 World Cup final – I ran Gordon Greenidge out in the very first over; a key player and to get him out early was quite a big thing. It’s a shame we didn’t go on and win it. When I was a young fella I was a very good fielder, but I was one of two or three in the side. Now, every side’s full of great fielders. It’s wonderful what they can do these days.

You rang the bell for start of play on the second day of the recent Ashes Test at Trent Bridge. You also have the conference and banqueting facility named in your honour: the Derek Randall Suite. That must make you proud.
It means a lot to me. When you walk out on to the field to represent your county – and I only played for one county – it meant a hell of a lot. I think people realised how much it meant to me, and it was really the supporters that brought it about. It was a thank you for the passion I had for the game and for Nottinghamshire cricket.