Roderick Easdale: Review of The Autobiography by Alastair Cook

In The Autobiography, Alastair Cook, in conjunction with journalist Michael Calvin, has produced one of the rarer recipes for a sports autobiography.

It is part philosophising on cricket, part reflections, part analysis of other people and only in small part does it directly recount the actual story of his life.

This is not a litany of events; date; who did what, where and how. This is not a criticism. Those bits of information are freely available elsewhere; Cook’s views far less so. But sometimes the context of what he says is confused and Alastair Cook The Autobiography can hop about in time and subject matter somewhat chaotically.

Alastair Cook The Autobiography is a thoughtful, interesting work. In this it has the flavour of a second book about it. Normally a cricketer’s initial autobiography is a recounting of events, with the odd anecdote and the occasional opinion. Sometimes later comes a second book, when the author and all his team-mates have retired, one which is more reflective and analytical, opinionated and discursive.

Cook was a limited batsman and turned this into his huge strength. He knew what he could and could not do, and he did the former and, especially when free from having to make white-ball runs, rarely strayed into the later territory.

He sees this as a blessing: “Someone like Ravi Bopara has, perversely, had it harder than me because his technique and dexterity allow him more potentially profitable areas on which to concentrate. Those extra options means he has to make a lot more decisions under pressure than I do.”

Cook’s captaincy was soured by the fall out from Kevin Pietersen’s sacking from the team. Quite why Pietersen could not just be dropped had never been clear to me. His form had deserted him, his crocked knee limited him in the field and when running between the wickets. He had scored one century in his past 17 tests. For all his past glories, he was no longer worth his place in the side. So just drop him, just as would happen to anyone else – and did to other stalwarts such as Ian Bell.

Instead the ECB theatrically ‘sacked’ him, creating an almighty media storm and stirred up all sorts of trouble for themselves and allowed Pietersen to be portrayed as a martyr.

“Simply not picking him was a theoretical option,” admits Cook, “but I supported Paul Downton, the ECB’s managing director: ‘I don’t want that cloud hanging over us’ he told James Whitaker, the national selector, and me. ‘I don’t want every press conference to start with the question, ‘Is KP coming back?’”

Even the ECB’s strongest supporters would not advance deft media management or public relations as one of that organisation’s strengths. The decision was idiotic and, fairly predictably, failed in stopping people talking about Pietersen. In fact, as Cook rues, it became ‘the only thing most people wanted to talk about’.

Quite how much it failed is revealed in many of Cook’s reflections, among them: “the situation had become so convoluted, and mired in legal complexity… The ECB board could not deal with the power of social media…. There was an inability to follow a consistent line of thought…. I felt like public enemy number one… the situation was out of my control… I lost count of the conversations I had with the ECB, who didn’t possess the quality of leadership… They hung me out to dry.”

Criticism of Cook became nasty, personal, spiteful and shameful. But he was part of the flawed decision, as guilty of idiotic thinking as the rest of them, even if others could duck under the parapet leaving their hapless captain exposed.

If sacking Pietersen was a decision Cook agreed with, the later sacking of Peter Moores was not, Captain Cook “argued against it, from a personal and professional point of view. I loved Peter as a bloke; he was a pillar of trust… To get rid of him as head coach while he was in the process of embedding a new generation of England players was, in my view, an avoidable error of judgement.”

That Cook is not a fan of many of the ECB top brass should come as no surprise, but there are exceptions. Giles Clarke, perhaps surprisingly is one: “Giles had a polarising personality, but I found him intelligent and impressive, especially in board meetings.”

Less surprisingly his friend, some-time opening partner, captain and ECB boss Andrew Strauss, is also lauded, although he is the man who sacked Moores second time around. The praise that Strauss receives, is equalled only by that which comes Jimmy Anderson’s way, another firm friend and “possibly the best cricketer England has ever produced.”

The Autobiography by Alastair Cook with Michael Calvin is published by Michael Joseph