NO BOUNDARIES
Passion and Pain On and Off the Pitch
Ronnie Irani
with Richard Coomber
I would like to take this opportunity to thank my wife Lorraine for just allowing me to be Ronnie Irani! Looking forward to life after professional cricket with her and my two daughters Simone and Maria. I love you guys so much. My mum and dad Anne and Jimmy for being tough but fair while I was growing up. You have always been there for me whatever my situation. The mother-in-law Pat who I hope enjoys life in the west wing; put the kettle on chuck!
If you are not living life on the edge you are taking up to much room!
CONTENTS
Title Page
Epigraph
CHAPTER 1 ‘HE’S BIG AND HE’S BARMY’
CHAPTER 2 NUTS ABOUT BRAZIL
CHAPTER 3 THE VIEW FROM MY BEDROOM WINDOW
CHAPTER 4 STOP ME IF YOU’RE FEELING FRUITY
CHAPTER 5 CHIRPING GOD
CHAPTER 6 MY PAL, THE WANNABE PORN STAR
CHAPTER 7 SOMEWHERE NEAR THE DARTFORD TUNNEL
CHAPTER 8 LOSTOCK TO CHELMSFORD – THE LONGEST JOURNEY
CHAPTER 9 ARE YOU WATCHING, LANCASHIRE?
CHAPTER 10 A YOUNG THRUSTER
CHAPTER 11 WELL DONE, YOU’RE DROPPED
CHAPTER 12 THERE’S SHIT ON THE END OF YOUR BAT
CHAPTER 13 WE’RE THINKING OF SENDING YOU HOME
CHAPTER 14 I WANT TO BE A MOUNTAIN PERSON
CHAPTER 15 COCKSCOMB INJECTIONS
CHAPTER 16 ON YOUR BIKE
CHAPTER 17 YOU SHOULD INVEST IN DOT.COM
CHAPTER 18 LEAVE ENOUGH GAP TO CREATE A SPARK
CHAPTER 19 YOU’RE THE MAN TO TAKE SACHIN
CHAPTER 20 A LONG STRETCH IN SYDNEY
CHAPTER 21 AT TIMES IT’S LIKE BEING A SINGLE MUM
CHAPTER 22 THE GAME THAT NEVER WAS
CHAPTER 23 POOFS AND PIRATES
CHAPTER 24 MIND GAMES TO WIN GAMES
CHAPTER 25 I’LL BE FRANC, IT’S FRIGHTENING
CHAPTER 26 WHAT’S IT ALL ABOUT, ALFI?
Copyright
There was a lump in my throat even before I opened the door to make the familiar walk down the steps of Chelmsford pavilion. It was a packed house for a Twenty20 match under floodlights and, as usual, I was wearing the Essex shirt with the red, blue and yellow badge. But I wasn’t playing. I would never play again. I knew it and so did the fans. As I reached the pitch they got to their feet and started to sing:
‘His name is Ronnie Irani
‘He’s big and he’s barmy
‘He bats number five for Essex
‘ESSEX!
‘All the kids in the street shout
‘Hey big lad, what’s your name?
‘His name is Ronnie Irani…’
I blinked away the tears, took a firm hold of Simone and Maria’s hands and started the most memorable walk of my life.
A million thoughts tumbled through my head as I slowly circled the ground with my young daughters, also in their Essex shirts with their names on the back. I could only wave and soak up the emotion of the night. There was no way of telling the fans how much they meant to me. They had adopted a big, raggy-arsed kid from Bolton as one of their own after his dream of playing for Lancashire turned sour. I’d got to know some of them well – Malcolm Singer and his mates, Ian, Anthony and Peter; Tony and Pam and their three daughters; and the late ‘Del Boy’ whose spirit was always with me whenever I walked down those steps and who I hope is ‘forever blowing bubbles’. Hundreds of others had become familiar faces over the years.
There had been better cricketers at the club, yet somehow the Essex fans picked me out for special attention. I like to think it was because I put all I had into every single ball, whether bowling, batting or chasing around the boundary, and also because, while I played the game hard and to win, I never lost sight of the fact that it was meant to be fun for me and entertaining for them. Some players avoid the fans if they can, but I thoroughly enjoyed the craic and exchanging banter with them. And I believe both the Essex fans and England’s ‘Barmy Army’ found it possible to identify with me. They couldn’t imagine themselves being Brian Lara or Graeme Hick or Wasim Akram, but they could look at me and think that, if things had been a bit different, they might have been that big bugger whose enthusiasm, hard work and desire to succeed had made the most of his natural talent.
The people of Essex backed me from the day I stepped off the train in Chelmsford, with everything I owned packed into four bags and with only nine first-class matches to show for my five years at Lancashire. Even when England selectors and officials decided I wasn’t good enough or was too much of ‘a character’ to be bothered with, the people of Essex were still on my side. Above all, they had enjoyed the great times for club and country that had made the last 19 years so unforgettable.
I looked up at the box I’d hired for the night. I’d wanted to share the moment with as many of the most important people in my life as I could, including my wife Lorraine, who I’d been with since she was 16, Mum and Dad who had instilled in me their work ethic and love of cricket and who had followed every step of my career, my secretary Linda Bennett, business partners Nick Bones and Aimee and Damian Donzis, Charles Lord from Stuart Surridge who had sponsored me, Rowland Luff the best man at my wedding, and my mentor John Bird. There were many more who I wished could have been there, people who had given me a leg up when I needed it most.
I went over and gave George Clarke a hug. George was the Essex dressing-room attendant and had not only been the first person to welcome me to Chelmsford all those years before but had also been a brave enough umpire to give England legend Graham Gooch out lbw when I bowled to him in my first Essex practice match. That had been an early feather in my cap and helped establish me at my new home. I spotted Graham Saville on the committee-room balcony and waved to him. I trusted him so much that I’d quit Lancashire just on his word that Essex would sign me and, together with Goochie and Keith Fletcher, Sav had guided me through my career from rookie to county captain.
Ironically, I had been at the peak of my form when Richard Steadman, the top knee specialist in the world, told me, ‘I’m sorry, Ronnie. It’s time to call it a day.’ It hurt like hell but I knew that, if he said nothing more could be done to patch up a knee that had troubled me since I was 17 years old, then that was it. I’d been on a rollercoaster of emotions since breaking the news, first to Lorraine and then to the management and my team-mates at Essex. I was easily moved to tears, especially when I read the tribute Graham Gooch paid me in the press: ‘His attitude and work ethic have always been spot-on since he joined us 13 years ago. He has never lost his appetite and self-belief and, in his book, there was never such a thing as a lost cause. That was something that lifted everyone around him. At both one-day level