Lord Cowdrey is none other than Michael Colin Cowdrey, one of the finest of all England batsmen, whose cricket loving father christened him in a manner that his initials were MCC.

Bob Woolmer, whose death (it is not quite passing away), has brought to the fore numerous questions unrelated to the glory of the game, admired Cowdrey for the purity of his technique. But it is possible that watching Cowdrey play, made him realise that a flawless technique can also prevent a batsman from being creative.

In 1957, Cowdrey along with his great friend, Peter May, the England captain, put on a partnership of 411 against the West Indies at Edgbaston in Birmingham. May went on to make an unbeaten 285 and Cowdrey a sedate 154. The two want ed to finish Sonny Ramadhin, the freak West Indian spinner, as a force. They did, but Cowdrey blotted his copybook by resorting to excessive pad play, which under the present LBW law would have seen him declared out any number of times.

It is hardly likely that Woolmer saw the innings by Cowdrey, for he would have been only nine years of age. His father was posted in Pakistan at that time, because Woolmer has gone on record to say that in 1958-59 he watched Hanif Mohammed make the then record first class score of 499 for Karachi against Bahawalpur. But being a student of the game and its literature he must have read many accounts of Cowdrey’s marathon innings. Probably he would not have plucked up the courage to ask Cowdrey as to why he had almost cold bloodedly resorted to pad play when being such a high quality batsman he could have played Ramadhin with his bat. It must have dawned on Woolmer that when a batsman is obsessed with perfection, he could well become enslaved by technique.

This realisation must have come to him when he made 149 against Australia in 1975, his century coming in six hours and 36 minutes. In the elegance of his play there had been comparisons with his mentor, Cowdrey, but the Australians understood that his batting was so controlled by the textbook that he would not take any chances.

In a conversation with me in South Africa when he was coaching that country’s team, I did ask him how coaching had changed his approach to the game. Woolmer said, “As a coach you soon re-learn the game. You are handling different players with their strong points and weak ones. Also, you are constantly thinking about various aspects of the game, that you wish you had been as knowledgeable when you were playing. Yes, it would have made a major difference. An individual must be given the absolute right to play in the manner he wants provided it produces results for him and his team.”

One of the reasons he was fascinated by the left-arm spinner, Paul Adams was because of his unusual delivery and ability to spin the ball a long way. He believed Adams could have been a matchwinner.

An academic, who was always keen to put his ideas on the game to paper, Woolmer wrote a most distinctive treatise on coaching in which one of the chapters was about playing and mastering the reverse sweep. In Woolmer’s estimation if played well and correctly it could do untold damage. It took a Zimbabwean, Andy Flower to prove this.

The book might or might not be in my collection, but I have never forgotten the foreword written by Cow drey who says without reservation that had he known as a player what Woolmer coach the knows, going by the book, he would have been a better player. There cannot be a more significant compliment.

Though born in Kanpur (India) his last days were spent in Pakistan. The connection began with his childhood. The most innovative coach the game has ever known is gone in mysterious and tragic circumstances. And if poison it was that killed him, he must have been done away like the Greek Socrates was, because of his knowledge and wisdom. Probably, Woolmer knew more than just cricket.

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