THE FOX RUNS WILD

Pring recalls life on tour with Graeme 'Foxy' Fowler, the first Englishman to make a double century in India, in 1985.

‘Force Majeure’ politicians call it, the unexpected event no amount of planning can prepare you for - and which often changes lives or at least their direction. As it did, briefly, for Graeme ‘Foxy’ Fowler, snapped by me here in Australia’s Blue Mountains during the 1982/83 Ashes tour.

Foxy many of you will recall was a hyperactive opening batter from Lancashire who got selected for England while so-called ‘Rebel’ cricketers were serving three-year bans for touring South Africa in 1982. A cack-hander, he liked to hit the ball hard and often; a philosophy common in today’s Bazball but found more sparingly then.

A realist possessed of that dry northern humour, Foxy would often point out how Graham Gooch’s unavailability enabled him to buy a roomy house in his home town of Accrington, something beyond him on a county salary alone.

Picked for 21 Tests, over which he averaged 35.32 with the bat, he was dropped by England the moment Gooch and Co had served their time. While few expected him to keep the more talented Gooch out of the side, it jarred that he was overlooked just one Test after he’d made a brilliant 201 in Madras (now Chennai), a score that set up England’s win there and their eventual series victory over India.

I wasn’t there for that series but I know how selectors think, or at least how they did back then, and I reckon Foxy lost out not because of Goochie but Tim Robinson, Foxy's opening partner in India.

Fowler during his 201 in Chennai in 1985

Like Foxy, Robbo had a good series in India (he outscored him 444 runs to 438). More importantly, at least from a selector’s point of view, he fitted the bill as an opener. Compared to Foxy who jumped around the crease like a demented grasshopper and who often swished merrily at fresh air (as left-handers are wont to do), Robbo was calm, methodical and organised. Perceptions count and Robbo went on to play 29 Tests in all (batting average 36.4) until, irony of ironies, he concluded it all by going on a Rebel tour to South Africa, this time in 1989.

Judging players from the runs and wickets they take is just one way of valuing them. Another is to factor in their influence on the team and dressing-room. With players spending so much time together it’s an important component but rarely considered. Foxy was a good team man and an even better tourist, brimming with energy and with an unquenchable thirst for adventure. He was good for morale on and off the field.

Just take the photo of him here. He and I were in the Blue Mountains with Geoff Cook after Bob Willis, our captain, had given the England squad five days off before we headed to New Zealand for three one-dayers. By this stage our winter Ashes tour had been going for 122 days with 27 flights, but we’d failed to qualify for the finals of the World Series, a triangular one-day tournament between Australia, us and New Zealand.

Most players stayed put in the team’s Sydney hotel, the Sebel Town House, but a few ventured out. David Gower flew to Hayman Island on the Barrier Reef while Foxy, Cooky and I headed for a log cabin near the small town of Katoomba; a swingeing A$10 a day self-catering.

We spent a quiet, restorative, time hiking mountain trails and living simply without room service. It was wild and the scenery spectacular and we didn’t see another soul until the dazzling night life (last orders 9pm) drew us into town one night.

Cooky hated heights but Foxy was keen to get dramatic shots so was happy to pose, as here, just inches from cliff edges with sheer thousand-foot drops. “It’s not as scary as facing Jeff Thomson,” he’d chirp, edging closer to the chasm.

Foxy went on to have a fine career with Lancashire and then Durham, where he’d once been to university. But I sense it didn’t fulfil him. You see, during his three years in the England team, alongside the likes of Ian Botham, he met scores of famous people like Elton John, Eric Clapton and Eric Idle. As the famous song at the end of World War 1 inquired about returning American troops: “How ya gonna keep ‘em down on the farm after they’ve seen Paris (pronounced here as Paree?).”

After professional cricket Foxy coached Durham university for a number of years, did a bit of radio commentary and wrote several books about his time in the game and his ongoing struggles with mental health. Lately, he has become a rather prolific striper of canvases, his paintings a potpourri of bold colour and abstraction. Indeed, he paints as he once batted - quickly and without too much agonising over the final product.

The other day I bumped into Jack Russell, another cricketer who now spends much of his time painting. There is a pattern here and while his and Foxy’s subject matter differ enormously (Jack doesn’t do abstract), both were quirky left-handed batters who had excess energy to burn when they played for England. Curious, then, after the hustle and bustle, that both should end up doing something as contemplative as painting.

Foxy at work (perhaps listening to the Analyst podcast!) Check out his work on X