The sudden and heart-breaking retirement of James Taylor has been the big talking point of the week. It would be too strong to suggest it is a tragedy, but it is for the young man because I can tell you first-hand just how hard he has worked in his career to get where he is.
It’s been scribbled elsewhere in this week’s issue, but I wasn’t going to ignore it and would like to reiterate the lovely words that have already been written, because I shared a dressing room with James at Leicestershire and am proud to call him a mate.
The game of cricket is littered with good people who do good things, but James, or ‘Titch’ as I and everyone affectionately like to call him, is up there with the very best. You will struggle to hear anything near a bad worth uttered about the bloke. What you see is what you get; an honest and hardworking lad who always puts others around him first.
What I love about Titch is the fact that he never settled for an easy life. Being brutally honest, every county has a few players who are happy to let things roll as they are. I’m not being overly critical here, but they aren’t prepared to push themselves; they lack a bit of drive and settle for what they have got.
Titch was never like that. When he first came into the Leicestershire side, making his first-class debut back in 2008, we knew straightaway that we had a player on our hands. Not because of his talent, although you could see he had all the shots, but because of his energy; his hunger; his desire to be better.
I quickly identified in him a determination to see games through. He hated to give his wicket away. You could say he was a bit of a selfish b**tard in that respect, but it was all about the team and about the team winning. And, if someone else scored the runs, he would celebrate just as if he had scored them himself. That’s why he is so popular; he is committed to the cause 100 per cent. He batted for everyone – out in the middle and watching on the balcony.
He slotted in perfectly at Leicestershire – it was just the perfect fit for the club and we got better when he was there. But when he left and went to Nottinghamshire, there were never any bad feelings, and when he came back to Grace Road it was like he was still one of us. We loved him and after the match we’d always go for a drink. You would have thought that he still played for the Foxes.
His retirement has brought back a few echoes of when another team-mate of mine, Dean Headley – at Kent – was forced to call a premature end to his career at the age of 29, in 2000. Dean suffered with chronic back problems and, like Titch, was building an England career before it came to an end with 15 Test appearances – eight more than James.
Dean had enjoyed a successful tour to Australia in 1998/99, where despite England losing heavily, he bowled superbly – with great fire and heart – ripping through the Baggy Greens in that famous Boxing Day Test match win in Melbourne.
In typical English conditions he could be absolutely unplayable and when he got the ball to reverse swing he was perhaps the canniest of operators on the domestic circuit.
He was still good enough to be offered one of the ECB’s central contracts in 2000, but he was always fighting it long-term and he knew the gut-wrenching decision was lurking in the background. It came too soon… way too soon.
But, like Titch Taylor, Deano left the game with some superb memories. Both of these guys would walk into a room and light the place up – and they’ll still do that. They were strong characters and that came across in their cricket. I feel pretty privileged to have played with both of them.
This piece originally featured in The Cricket Paper, Friday April 15 2016
