SIR GARFIELD SOBERS 1936-2026

I never had the privilege – or the misfortune; depends which way you look at it – of playing against Garry (note the two r’s, often overlooked) Sobers, but I know plenty who did, and some who played with him. None of them is any doubt that Sobers was the greatest all-round cricketer that ever lived.

It is interesting that the recent retirement of Ben Stokes prompted comparisons with another great all-rounder, the South African Jacques Kallis. They are in an exclusive club of only two Test cricketers who have done the Double of scoring more than 7,000 runs and taking more than 250 wickets. When I read that, I was moved to exclaim, “But what about Sobers?” Research yielded the fact that Sobers took only (only!) 235 Test wickets, as well as scoring 8,082 runs. Ah, but he achieved that total in a mere 93 Tests. Stokes played in 122 Tests and Kallis in 166. “Lies, damned lies, and statistics,” as the British prime minister, Benjamin Disraeli, said, and of course mere statistics, though illuminating, do not tell the whole story of Sobers.

As a left-arm quick bowler, he was without peer.

He was a preternaturally gifted sportsman, good at tennis, table-tennis and basketball and played football at left-back for Barbados. He was also a scratch golfer. He always said that he regretted concentrating on cricket and believed he could have made his name as a professional golfer. Those in the golfing fraternity did not disagree. As an all-round cricketer however, he was without peer. In addition to his blistering batting, he could bowl in three styles (orthodox finger spin, wrist spin and in his later career developing into a fearsome left-arm quick, new ball, bowler) and he was electric in the field, in the outfield when he was younger and at leg slip in his latter years. In short, he could do anything, and very often did. I am reminded of Tom Graveney’s words to me when I was writing his biography. “You know, I never minded when Garry was playing a long innings. Why? Because that’ll make him too knackered to bowl!”  In 2000, Wisden named Sobers as one of their Five Cricketers of the Century (the others being Jack Hobbs, Don Bradman, Viv Richards and Shane Warne).

Such are the bald facts of his career. Let me however give you two glimpses into Sobers the man, one vouchsafed by my great friend, team-mate and erstwhile landlord, Mike Taylor, and the other a personal assessment when I met the great man face to face. Taylor had played with Sobers at Nottinghamshire before he came down to the South Coast to join us at Hampshire in 1973. “Of course, you know he never lived up to his name, because he was a great boozer,” chortled Mike, “but it never seemed to affect his performance on the field. Quite often, he would go out there and blaze a hundred when we all knew he hadn’t been to bed that night, drinking and gambling in an all-night casino.” That was true. Sobers was never a rich man. By the standards of the day, he was not badly recompensed for his services as a cricketer, but money never seemed to stay in his pocket for long. Then Mike would shake his head. “To be honest, his slow stuff wasn’t great, but was there ever a more dangerous new ball bowler? As a captain…? Well, we all know he was a bit of a gambler.” No more illustrated when Sobers famously – or infamously according to his critics in the West Indies – threw down the gauntlet to the England captain, Colin Cowdrey, in the fourth Test match of the 1967-68 series in Trinidad, when he declared, asking England to score 215 to win at four an over. The West Indies lost that match and the series and Sobers was excoriated for his quixotic decision.

A lovely picture of Sobers enjoying a fag with Dennis Amiss after a Test match against England in Trinidad in 1974.

He was friends with everybody, team-mates or opponents.

Roger Tolchard (Leicestershire) played against Sobers (Nottinghamshire) many times. When Tolly retired from First-Class cricket, he came back to his alma mater, Malvern College, as cricket professional to join me (Master in Charge) to run the cricket at the school. We spent 25 happy and successful years in the job. Somehow, he persuaded Sobers to come to the College to run a master class for the boys. I shall always remember these words that Sobers said to them during the session. “Remember the name – Brian Lara. You won’t have heard of him but mark my words, he will be every bit as good a batsman as me, who knows even better.” The jury is still out on that one. Quite possibly Lara was the equal of Sobers as a batsman. Their respective Test averages (Sobers 55.37, Lara 52.88) suggest that they were not too far apart in greatness, but Lara never bowled, and didn’t do much fielding either, spending a lot of time in the dressing room while his team-mates had to do the hard yards.

Take cover! Sobers launches one during his innings of 150* at Lord’s in 1973, his final Test match hundred.

Then Tolly grabbed a pair of wicket-keeping gloves. “Come on, Garry,” he urged our guest, “Show us your box of tricks.” He stood about 20 yards away as Sobers picked up a stray ball by his feet. I stationed myself at what you might have called first slip, eager to see at first-hand what would transpire. Quite a crowd had gathered apart from the pupils. Once news had filtered through that the great man was down in the nets on the Senior, the main College pitch, teachers, secretaries, estate staff, ground staff, even the College porter had wandered down to see what was going on. Off a two-pace run, Sobers delivered an outswinger, an inswinger, an off-cutter, a leg-cutter, an orthodox SLA and a Chinaman, six different deliveries in one over. I was spell bound. Tolly laughed. The crowd politely applauded. Sobers just gave a nonchalant shrug, shook hands with us both and made his way to the awaiting car and chauffeur.

There is a large WhatsApp group of former cricketers (it numbers nearly 100), in which the former Surrey and England off-spinner, Pat Pocock, each day identifies the birthday boys and invites stories and anecdotes. Today, the news of Sobers’s death dominated the chat in the group. Hardly surprising really because Sobers was known intimately by so many of them. Not one message made reference to any of his innings, to any of his bowling spells or to any of his catches. Without exception, the memories were of Sobers the friend, the likeable team-mate, the fair-minded opponent, the gracious and generous man… “he was just a lovely, lovely bloke,” said one. “A great cricketer…but a great man too,” said another. Not all great sportsmen evince such warm-hearted tributes.