Botham: The Legend of ’81

(BBC2)

Few will forget the Ashes of 2005. Remarkable images linger long in the mind . . .

Freddie consoling Brett Lee after toppling him with a steepling bouncer; Warne dropping KP and, with him, The Ashes; McGrath slipping on an errant ball at Edgbaston; Kasprowicz being given out incorrectly to hand England the narrowest Ashes victory of all time.

Oh, and who could forget Freddie’s hung over eyes after their victory celebrations around London.

But, for all of those iconic moments, that series didn’t come close to the Ashes of 1981. England won the series 3-1; a remarkable feat given that they were 1-0 down after two tests.

Mid-series, the nation was in turmoil with race riots and streets ablaze. The national cricket team was in terminal decline; it was a rudderless, shambolic rabble of out-of-form players who were redefining the term ‘endemic failure’.

After two tests, the skipper, Ian Botham, was ditched. The Somerset all-rounder had notched two ducks and received an icy silence as he left the field of play at Lords. “It was a horrible moment,” noted cricket fan, Stephen Fry, in last night’s exceptional BBC2 documentary, Botham: The Legend of ’81.

Mike Brearley, AKA Professor Cricket, was installed as skipper and Botham was given the free reign he needed. The burden had been lifted. What happened next was one of the most remarkable stories in the history of sport.

The Australia of Lillee, Dyson, Hughes, Bright, Alderman, Border and Wood were rampant. Botham, a laddish, rabble-rousing, anti-establishment, Boy’s Own hero, beat them single-handedly. At Headingley, with the support of Graham Dilley and then an inspired spell of fast, straight bowling from a seething Bob Willis, he took the fight to Australia. Defying odds of 500-1, Botham swotted balls from the tip of his nose, hammering boundaries and playing with the abandon of a landlord on a cricket green. Dancing down the track, he smashed sixes into the confectionary stall, helping England to avoid humiliation.

“He simply enjoyed himself,” said Fry. Remarkably, a possessed Willis bowled England to victory. Botham had gone from zero to hero: Game On. “One of the most fantastic victories ever known, in Test cricket history,” said Richie Benaud.

At Headingley, for the Fourth Test, Botham did it again, this time with the ball.

Australia played themselves into a seemingly unassailable position when Botham struck with the ball, with a dizzying, uninhibited spell of 5-11. The nation was gripped. England were in the box seat: 2-1.

At Old Trafford, Botham was imperious, an outstanding demolition merchant who battered the Aussies into submission. 3-1. Fittingly, Sir Elton John and Sir Mick Jagger were among the commentators in last night’s programme. For Botham was not a sportsman, he was a rock’n’roll star; a man who made headlines for breaking beds and smoking dope and whose autobiography was titled with an instruction not to tell his wife what he’d been up to. For one long, hot summer, Botham was bigger than The Beatles – he was a national hero.

Botham: The Legend of ’81 was about the creation of a myth, a compelling and unmissable, hour-long programme.

By Andy Richardson