Grandads Will Never Be Forgotten

Frederick W Carter

1929-2016

The loss of a family member is a pain that I have been fortunate in my 30 years to have not had to deal with very often, but on 30th October 2016 I learnt of the death of my Grandad; Fred. The loss of the person whose approval means more to you than anyone else on the planet is a pain that is immeasurable, and added to that pain is knowing that I would not be able to attend his funeral and say my goodbyes while also being there for my family.

On Sunday 30th October I was, as usual on a Sunday, at the Australian Reptile Park. We knew in the week or two before that Grandad's condition had worsened significantly but when the call came it still shook me. We were packing for the afternoon show, I had a Burmese Python in one hand and a giant bag to put it in at the ready and I felt my phone vibrate. Deep down I knew it wasn't right, and when I saw that it was my Dad calling from the UK I got a lump in my throat, knowing it was about 3am over there. I asked the two other volunteers who were with me to take the snake because I knew what this call would be. Of course Dad sounded tired, who wouldn't? Then came the words. "I'm afraid it's happened. He's gone."

In my Grandad's arms as Emily plays

I can't pretend to know exactly what I said but I kept it together as best I could. Dad couldn't give me too much detail but he wanted me to know from him with a call rather than a text, it's just the right thing to do. I cannot imagine how crap Dad must have felt having to pass that news on so I didn't want to be too emotional for his sake. I still remember when he broke the news that my Grandad Briggs had passed away back in 1994 when I was just 8 years old, the words were almost identical; "I'm afraid he's gone." At 8 years old I still remember trying not to cry because sat next to me my sister was and I didn't want to make it worse. What must Dad have felt having to break that news to his young children back then? What must he have felt having to break the news now when it is his own father who has now gone? What an absolute champion, he handled it brilliantly when I'm sure he was hurting deeper than he'd admit with plenty of other things on his plate too.

As soon as I was off the phone I called my wife and broke the news. I let a little tear go and then made my excuses to get back to work, there was a show to happen. I let my colleagues know what had happened and they told me I could go home if I wanted but to be perfectly honest I didn't want to. I knew that the sooner I went home the sooner I would crack.  The afternoon's work at the Reptile

Grandad in the Captain's seat of
Concorde G-BOAC at Manchester

Park focussed my mind and kept me active and I cannot thank Stacey, Jesse, Kane, et al enough for their support that afternoon. We toasted Grandad at the pub afterwards and then I made my way home and as I got out of my car Jess was waiting in the drive and that's when the emotions hit me.

Inside the house, my in-laws came and gave me a hug and the tears flowed. I found some pictures of him and that made it even more real. My Grandad, my hero, was no longer with us. I found a picture of Grandad, Dad and myself on the steps of Concorde at Manchester and decided to upload it to Facebook without hinting that he had gone in case other members of the family had not heard yet. There was another picture of Grandad coming out of Concorde, beaming at the top of the steps with both thumbs up in the air. The happiness on his face, the fact I had provided him with that moment made me very proud and I broke down again. "Look how happy he was!"

March 2016 with Nanna, and for
the last time with Grandad

The next day or two I seriously contemplated how I could get over to the UK for the funeral. Free from the shackles of an idiot boss who said he would not have allowed me the time to do so, I felt a sense of duty that I should be there despite my new job starting on the day of his funeral. The more apparent it became that I wouldn't be there the more painful it was. I accepted it wouldn't be possible but still wrote a eulogy for him, which I recorded and will post below because that is my tribute to the man. I felt that was my goodbye. It cut me very deep to know I couldn't be there for his send-off and part of me is still guilty that I wasn't there, but so glad that I had the opportunity to take leave earlier in 2016 to go and visit. I have the pictures of what turned out to be our final goodbye. They will remain private.

Grandad and I shared a very special bond, we are (*were... Took a proof read to correct that) very alike in many ways and extremely different in others. For example, Grandad would absolutely hate the bad language that I use on a frequent basis, but would enjoy watching cricket, watching planes, and taking photographs as much as I do. He was present when I took 6-39 against Sidmouth, my best ever bowling figures. The last innings I played before he died was my best ever, 137 v Lane Cove. I love the fact they call me Freddie at cricket because as much as it's a reference to Flintoff it's of course his name too, so that makes me proud. He was the one responsible for my interest in aviation. Yes, my father was in the RAF and I had been around planes since I was very small, but as much as Dad tried to encourage an interest in planes it was Grandad who really got me going. He taught me how to identify different types of aircraft, and I can't put my finger on what it was Grandad did that got me going rather than Dad because I used to love going to RAF Brize Norton with Dad as a kid!

Grandad always talked about this day, and remembered my
bowling figures of 6-39. My best bowling performance.

The great thing about Grandad was that he never pushed any of his grandchildren into doing something they didn't want to do. Don't get me wrong, he'd offer his opinion! But he always said that if that's what we really wanted to do then to go for it with everything you've got but be prepared in case it doesn't come off. I remember being a bit upset at age 20 that he'd told me my chances of playing professional cricket had pretty much gone because I "hadn't been spotted yet", but he was absolutely right and let's face it, as much as I loved the game, I didn't have the mental application and drive I would have needed to make it big. He loved that I had got into the flying game, I knew he was disappointed I hadn't finished it all off. I am too. I knew he wasn't keen on me leaving for Australia but he also supported it because he knew that's what I wanted, and he loved the fact that I had found Jess and was happy. His family's success made him happy, I knew how proud he was of all of us. He told me every time I saw him, "Cousin X is doing this and is doing well, Cousin Y is doing that and is doing well which is smashing!". I saw him swell with pride.

He made sure we knew how proud he was of us. I hated knowing that he was upset. I hated knowing that he and Nanna couldn't come over to Australia for our wedding because I knew deep down he wanted nothing more than to be here for it but knew he couldn't make it. We FaceTimed him a couple of days after and he was so upset he couldn't make it and that in turn brought tears to the eyes of everyone in the room here that was talking to him and Nanna.

Grandad in front of his beloved Concorde at Manchester

I'm not really too sure what the point of this blog post is, other than to try to convey the sense of loss I am feeling. I understand that I didn't see Nanna or Grandad anywhere near as regularly as other family members due to the distances between our homes but I still believe I had a very special relationship with him. I'm not saying it was better or worse than anyone elses, just different. I feel very lucky to have shared so many special experiences with a man I consider my hero, and a man I aspire to emulate. I will always miss him.

In a cruel twist of fate, my wife and her family also suffered a huge loss just a fortnight later, when Jess's paternal Grandfather also passed away. There are parallels because her Grandparents don't live nearby either, across in Tasmania in the beautiful city of Hobart. I have not yet visited. All I could do in that situation was offer my complete support because it's still very fresh in my memory exactly how that feels. The whole Wallace clan headed to Tasmania for the funeral this week, but I did not join them. Part of me feels I should have been there as support for Jess, even though she was happy for me to stay here in Sydney. What is important is the continuance of the memory of two very well loved individuals and their legacies, and they will both be sorely missed by their families.

Rest In Peace, Frederick W Carter, and Aidan Wallace.

My eulogy to my Grandad. We love you and we will always miss you. xx

Anniversary? Already?

Anniversaries are curious things, aren't they? Birthdays and Wedding Anniversaries are the obvious ones we highlight, yet now we are continually reminded by social media that on this day 5 years ago you were angry about a sporting event, or on this day last year you had a pasta salad at an upmarket bar in the city (Guess which one of those was mine). But what is the fascination with anniversaries? What do they actually mean?

It is a source of constant amusement from Jess and her family that I can remember dates, phone numbers, addresses, postcodes and things like that from as long ago as I can remember. I can remember people's birthdays that I went to Primary School with, whether I like that person or not! I can remember phone numbers from places I lived 20 years ago, for friends I haven't seen in over a decade, and I have no idea why. April is a month heavy with all sorts of birthdays and anniversaries, with my Mum's birthday, my Nanna's birthday, my wedding anniversary, my own birthday, my cousin's birthday, several good mates birthdays, and especially poignant this year: Our 1st Wedding Anniversary and my 30th Birthday.

Little me

The thing about being on this planet is that it is constantly changing. At no two points in all of time will the planet be in exactly the same state, and as such 21st April 1972, for instance, will bear no resemblance to today; 21st April 2016. Similarly, my birthday next Wednesday will bear no resemblance to the corresponding date 30 years ago when I came kicking and screaming into this world on a ward in an RAF Hospital in Germany. But we celebrate the fact that I have been in existence while riding on a planet as it does 30 laps of the nearest star. I'm not saying we shouldn't, I just find it curious. The day I was born saw the world in a state of mild panic, a few hours prior to my birth the Chernobyl disaster played out. Hopefully nothing so devastating happens this year. No, I am not Satan's child...

I've spoken in length in previous blogs and Facebook posts about how good our Wedding day really was, and how thankful we are to everyone who came and everyone who made it such a special day for us. I could say things like "I can't believe it's been a year already!" and "We got through a year of marriage!" but the fact is I CAN believe it, and why wouldn't we have got through a year? Time moves on, we've reached a year which is great but... there are many many more laps of the Sun that I would like to partake in with Jess as my wife! Is it an achievement to make it a year? Is it an achievement to do a small fraction of what we promised to do on that day in 2015? I suppose in some ways it absolutely is, even so I would expect to make it many more yet. My parents have been married 33½ years, my grandparents nearly 64 years. That rather puts our 1 year into perspective...! They had to start somewhere though, and I'm sure their first anniversary was an occasion.

Jess at Wolfies

While not our actual Anniversary we went into Circular Quay on the Saturday. I'll be honest, I was not in good shape at all having come off the back of 4 days off with a Virus and a torn disc in my lower back. I had an appointment with my new Chiro before catching a train with Jess across the Harbour Bridge into the city, and we had a beautiful lunch at Wolfies. You can't ask for more than a beautiful lunch next to the Harbour Bridge with a view across to the Opera House with a beautiful wife opposite you. But this virus knocked me about, so much so I could only just get through half a pizza. Those that know me know that is unlike me!

2015

We couldn't pass up the opportunity to go back to the Sydney Harbour Marriott, where we had our reception and recreate a moment from last year, sitting together on the bench at the bottom of the staircase. We were treated to a drink on the house by the very kind barman, and we reminisced about different things about the day. THAT'S what anniversaries are all about, that's what they mean. The memories they provide. Good ones, bad ones, funny ones... They're all there and that's what makes them so special. Why wouldn't we celebrate that?

2016

The actual anniversary fell on Monday, which meant I was at work. Quite honestly, I wasn't really much better on Monday than I was on Saturday or Sunday. I barely made it two hours at the Reptile Park before I gave up and came home, and no-one needs to be told how much I love being there so to drag myself away from that...? More powerful statement than the Doctor's note I reckon! Next Wednesday I will also be at work for the day. 1986 in Germany, 2016 in Erskine Park! Might wait until Friday to celebrate that one!

Today is my Nanna's birthday. I've just spoken to her on FaceTime, and modern technology allows us to share an occasion such as this visually which is fantastic. I suppose THAT'S what anniversaries are all about, that's what they mean. Being able to share moments with loved ones, being able to bring people together to celebrate something. All of the moments and the memories they provide, good ones, bad ones, funny ones... They're all there and that's what makes them so special. Roll on the next one.

Coming "Home"

I have mixed feelings about the coming fortnight. This time tomorrow, Jess and I will be on Emirates 413, climbing out of Sydney on our way back to England. This will be the first time we have ever made this trip together, and the first time I have travelled with anyone between the UK and Australia. I've flown from London to Sydney via Hong Kong and Singapore, and London to Melbourne via Singapore but this time we are flying from Sydney into Manchester (via Dubai), an airport that aside from Exeter (where I worked for 5 years cumulatively) and maybe now Sydney I have spent more time at than any other. Yet this is the first time I will fly into Manchester, and on an Emirates A380. This should be exciting to an Avgeek like me, but in truth there is apprehension because of what this trip is actually for.

My Grandparents and my Dad at
Bovey Tracey CC in 2008

I won't go into detail, but my Grandparents aren't well. It's an undeniable fact of life that it is not everlasting, and I told my Grandparents 3 years ago when I left the UK that I would see them again. I'm only about 48 hours away at the time of writing from keeping that promise. There is a lot to look forward to when it comes to seeing them and a lot to be excited about coming back to the UK with my wife for the first time, for my paternal Grandparents to see Jess again but this time as a Carter.

England in February is not particularly glorious. The single figure temperatures, the frosty mornings, the rain and the minimal hours of daylight don't portray the country in the beauty we all know it possesses. I'd always envisaged not having to ever deal with another English winter's day, and given the mercury has been upwards of 30C for the last week or so here in Sydney it doesn't matter how much we try to prepare for it the cold will still come as a shock. Yet I still can't wait to get there... Not so much the location, but the people. It's a big old world we live in that at times seems tiny. It's times like these where you come to realise just how far away you are from your family and friends, and the joy you will get from seeing them again if only for the briefest of moments.

Chris, me, Liam at Heathrow

Leaving Bovey in 2013

It's safe to say that personally I haven't looked back since leaving Bovey Tracey on 17th March 2013. The progress I've made since then in building my life in Australia with Jess has surprised me, and on that date with the snow-capped hills of the Westcountry and Southern England passing us by, if we had sat down in the lounge at Heathrow and listed the things I/we have done in the last 3 years there isn't a snowflake's hope in Hell I would have believed it. I remember that day so well, leaving Devon and posing for a family photograph in front of my home of 17 years. Friends coming over to the house for breakfast and bidding me farewell. Chris Towell and Liam Berry, two of my best friends from school, making the journey to Heathrow to see me off. It truly moves me to know I have friends like that, and friends like Matt Pascoe, who have made the effort to come over to visit on multiple occasions (most notably our wedding) and is coming again later this year.

I am English. I am a "Pom" as our convict cousins so eloquently put it. But I am now a Permanent Resident of Australia. All of my sporting loyalties lie with England, yet I still call Australia "Home". This will be the first time I have come "home" to England as a visitor, not a resident. I can't begin to understand how strange that will feel. Or will it feel weird at all?! Will my already dodgy half-Devonian/half-Australian accent change to try and avoid comment? Somehow I don't think I'll be able to contain the "G'day mate, how ya goin'?!", although I equally don't think I'd get away with walking into the Dolphin Hotel in Bovey next Friday with "Ello, bey! 'Ow be knackin'?!" Not only that, but I'll be in England with a WIFE!!!!! Christ, I'll be 30 in two months time! I'll be intrigued to see how different the reality of Weaverham, Bovey Tracey and the people who live there is from the snapshot memory I have from three years ago. God knows I have changed, I can't wait to see how people have changed, yet I'm apprehensive about it too.

Grandad and I on the flight deck
of Concorde G-BOAC at
Manchester Airport in 2009

It's a strange sensation to be excited and apprehensive at the same time. It's going to be a very very busy time starting now. So it's off to bed now, wake up and get to the Reptile Park in the morning (I can't help myself, even on the day we fly across the world!), see my friends and animals, head home halfway through the day and then finish packing and off to SYD, DXB and MAN. Emirates, you might sponsor Arsenal but I'm trusting you will make the journey enjoyable. And however long the flight might be, it doesn't matter a jot when it comes to the rewards you get at the other end, with two beautiful countries, two beautiful families, and the chance to see the ones who mean the most to you.

Not long now, England... We're coming for you.

So How Is Married Life?

Somewhat inevitably after 3 months of marriage I have lost count of the number of times I've been asked "How Is Married Life?" There are plenty of jokes and anecdotes floating around about how everything gets worse after your wedding day, particularly from my ever-positive colleagues! However I am yet to fully comprehend that point of view because quite honestly I think things have got much much better since April.

Family time at Copacabana

Now before you cry out that it's only been 3 months I am fully aware of that! But it has been 3 months without the stresses of planning every tiny detail for a massive day, planning for visits, entertaining people or worrying about cricket selections and matches. There is now less arguing, less stress and we have both relaxed into our lives as Mr and Mrs Carter. We both thoroughly enjoyed having my family and friends over from England and we wish they were here permanently though we realise the reasons why this is not the case, and day-to-day life has since settled down. It truly was the best day of our lives but I think we are both glad that it is finally done.

The majority of the credit for planning the wedding has to go to Jess, she knew what she wanted and for the most part, she got it. It wasn't simply a case of me sitting back and letting her do everything and there were a few disagreements along the way. Through it all we never lost sight of what exactly the day meant to us and why we were doing this, and no-one can tell me that our day wasn't a complete success. Perhaps we are still riding the wave of euphoria off the back of the wedding? Perhaps all the difficulties in planning made the day seem so perfect in the end? I did write a blog a week after the wedding but forgot to post it. You can read it here or just scroll down!

For all the bad stories and the jokes there must be an underlying reason why so many people do this, why marriage is still so "popular". It's not a competition, it is a very individual thing. Not everyone is meant to get married, not everyone should. This may sound sanctimonious of me but I think I was right to propose to Jess a year after meeting her.  I think I was right to marry her. I was convinced from almost the very start that she was the one and I was more than confident that she shared the same life values I did. Quite clearly, if either one of us didn't think that was the case we wouldn't be married.

I guess it is also inevitable that the other line of questions has followed closely, namely "So when are you planning to have kids?" Answer: We want to get our own house first. Once again I have lost count of that question, but I'm sure we'll hear it more and more until we do have a child. And then it'll be "(When) will you have another?" This is human nature, and thus normal. It's what we have to look forward to. To answer the original question, How Is Married Life? It's perfectly normal, and that is why it is so great.

Family: It means the world

A Moment My Whole Life Had Been Leading Up To

(Written 28th April 2015)

We've been told it a million times; "Every girl dreams about her wedding day". But I'll let you in on something; Most guys do too. Although the planning of our big day involved a great deal of stress, little disagreements, unforeseen circumstances and difficulty in even getting to this stage I can safely say that it has all been worth it. It has only been a week or so since I married my bride and I am still riding the wave of euphoria that comes with it but with hindsight I don't think I'd really want to change a thing about it.

Finally getting married

Sometimes you have to sit back, take stock and really think about what you have done. I have found myself doing that in the last few weeks as it really beggars belief the journey I have taken to get here. Aged 20 my visit here seemed like nothing more than a gap year to go play some cricket and have plenty of fun like a 20 year old should, it turned into the best time of my life to date. Two years later in late 2008 my world was turned upside down and put me into a deep deep depression and paranoia that I wouldn't wish on anyone, and it continued well into 2009 before I was dragged back out to Sydney.

Still dealing with the issues from afar, in December 2009 I went to a beach party at The Ranch and met Jess. Nothing that night suggested either of us would be where we are now or that we would do what we have done. As we got to know each other more it became clear that there was something special between us, but the knowledge that we were from opposite sides of the globe was a hurdle neither of us knew how to jump at that stage.

Leaving Sydney that second time was amongst the hardest things I'd had to do, luckily things soon began to take shape and Jess came to the UK. Trips to Paris, Newcastle and London while struggling to get a job back at Flybe, 6 months apart working any job I could get my hands on, a relationship truly tested by distance. Once I knew she was coming back to England I had to propose. It's hard to describe but when I decided I was going to propose I knew that Jess would say yes. If I thought there was the slightest chance she'd say no I would not have proposed. You know when you have found that Special One, cliché or not.

London, England, 27th December 2010. A country brought to a halt for most of the previous week by heavy snow, an Australian girl coming from 30℃ Sydney to temperatures below freezing and more than likely jet-lagged at the same time! An opportunistic moment to pop a life-changing question beneath a world famous landmark such as the London Eye. Yes, yes, YES! A little over a year from meeting, and fresh from a 6 month period apart we were engaged. You just know when it's right, I'm telling you.

I love Devon to this day but not a single bone in my body regrets leaving. It may have taken until March 2013 for me to do so but I haven't looked back. I couldn't get back to Flybe and there were people there with agendas to stop me from doing so, but I don't regret trying while I was there. Perhaps deep down they knew as everyone else did that I was destined to be with Jess in Australia. The only thing I regret about leaving is that my family can't be within easy reach but modern technology being what it is I can speak with them every day if I like.

London Taxi's in front of
Sydney Harbour Bridge.
Our engagement and wedding summed up beautifully

It came around eventually, I married Jess on Saturday 18th April 2015 in one of the world's most beautiful locations. To be joined by my parents, sister, nieces, uncles, aunts, cousins and friends from both England and Australia left me extremely humbled that there are people out there that want us to succeed. And to have the love and support from both families and sets of friends is mind-blowing.

I found myself looking around on that Saturday at the Ceremony taking it all in. My beautiful new wife, the Sydney Harbour Bridge and Opera House, the friends and relatives from Devon and Cheshire, the Australian family of mine meeting their English cousins for the first time, all because of us... And staring at the ring on my finger. I pondered the scene and suddenly I didn't feel like a young adult anymore. I really felt like a man, like I had entered a new role. I flashed back to the little kid in Fringford, Oxfordshire that struggled to make friends at school; to the teenager at South Dartmoor with the same struggles; to a lifetime of visits to Cheshire in my Grandparents dining room, and excursions with Grandad to Manchester Airport. And yet somehow that same kid had grown into this, into a Husband with a responsibility and previous burdens left behind.

It has been impressed on me by my Grandfather from an early age that of his grandchildren I am the only male bearing the Carter name, and so it is up to me to continue it. The biggest wrench of the day was that my Grandparents were not healthy enough to have made the trip from Cheshire to Sydney in order to celebrate the day with us. Whether anyone believes it or not I have always wanted to make them proud, probably more so than my own parents. And while there are things about me they may not be proud of (I do swear a lot and they are NOT Michael Jackson fans!) I would like to think that my achievements and my more meaningful actions have.

So Grandad, I am proud to have added Jess to our family tree. Given our story so far I have no reason to think that our future is anything other than bright. It may be a few years yet but I hope that you believe the future of our family name is in good hands. Please trust me when I say that I am just as proud of that family name as you are.

Thank you all for sharing our special day

The Sorry State Of English Cricket

Is anyone really surprised at England's dismal showing at the Cricket World Cup? Did anyone really expect England to be world beaters? The self destruct button has been firmly glued down since the beginning of the last Ashes series, and rather than look around for examples of solutions the good old ECB have decided they will do things their way. Well, look where that's got them. It's been expected of many England sporting sides over the years that we can compete with the best, but crash to inexplicable defeats. England's cricket sides however, have always been expected to lose the plot at any moment. Test match series defeat to New Zealand in 1999 left England bottom of the rankings. The same year England exited the World Cup on home soil in the group stage. In the 2003 World Cup, the same again. The World T20 has seen embarrassing losses to the Netherlands amongst others, the 2011 World Cup saw Ireland topple England and that's without mentioning two chastening 5-0 Ashes series defeats on enemy soil in Australia.

That England responded to the 2006/07 whitewash with a complete change in methods was something and they set about a plan to regain the urn in 2009. This was achieved with a couple of hiccups along the way such as the Kevin Pietersen captaincy saga with Peter Moores and a 1-0 Series defeat in the West Indies. The 2009 Ashes was the beginning of a glorious era for English cricket and the meticulous planning and "execution of skills" led to a thumping 3-1 Ashes victory in Australia in 2010/11. So how has it all gone wrong again?

KP: Hung out to dry by the ECB

I'll start with the coaching staff. In our glory days of 2010/11, England had Andy Flower and Graham Gooch on the staff, both respected former Test cricketers. They were still in charge when it all began to unravel but when they were relieved of their duties they took Kevin Pietersen with them. Regardless what you think of KP, the fact remains he has scored more runs for England than anyone else in history. Was he a destructive influence in the dressing room? Unless you were in there you won't know, but what is abundantly clear is that he was not managed properly. Every sporting side has characters in it, every cricket side has egos in it. When someone is that talented and on-field success is the measure of your job, the coaching staff and management have to find a way to manage these individuals.

It pains any England fan to say so but the example to follow has been set by Australia. Let's not beat around the bush, they have a long history of sustained success in all formats of the game. It wasn't that long ago that Australian cricket was in crisis and they way they dealt with it is the polar opposite of how England have over the last 18 months. Mickey Arthur, remember him? Australia's coach from South Africa, failing to manage players properly? Suspending them for not doing homework? Making a side that was ridiculed? How similar to the current England side. But Australia's pro-active response was positive and ominous.

I remember at the time Mickey Arthur was replaced by Darren Lehmann thinking that Australia would overnight be a tougher prospect. I fully expected the 2013 Ashes in England to be won by

Boof Lehmann: "Back yourself"

England, and it was by a score of 3-0, but the knowledge that another Ashes series would follow in Australia suddenly wasn't something I was looking forward to watching. Darren Lehmann's attitude is summed up by his nickname; "Boof". He tells it like it is, calls a spade a spade and if you piss him off he'd probably hit you with one. Suddenly, that brash, confident Australian aura began to creep it's way back into their cricket side. The sides led by Allan Border, Mark Taylor, Steve Waugh and Ricky Ponting had it, but the Michael Clarke era had to date appeared timid and easily dominated in comparison. A change of attitude brought on by Boof resulted in a thumping 5-0 Ashes victory over a hapless England sapped of confidence by a rampant Australian side that had recaptured their dominant attitude.

Where is the passion from the current England players?

Growing up in England there was always the expectation of patriotism, mainly by a football mad nation enveloped in the symbolism of the Three Lions. The British fighting spirit that had seen us win the Battle of Britain in WWII, the British Bulldog toughness, the British Lion, the notion that you're not a true Brit unless you fight to the end. Lord Horatio Nelson's words "England Expects That Every Man Will Do His Duty"... Rousing, aren't they? But in stark contrast to the conservative British attitude of not taking risks. England's current cricket side didn't take risks, didn't show any fight to the end, and the conservative approach has cost them dearly. The Three Lions? More like a trio of scaredy cats rolled over and tickled by the Tigers of Bangladesh. Pathetic.

Aussie Pre Ashes Propaganda

So whereas Australian cricket in it's time of crisis turned to someone who could bring back the Australian way, England turned to a guy who was sacked 6 years previously from the job, has no Test cricket experience and doesn't seem to be able to rouse his own players, let alone put fear into other cricket nations. Lehmann's appointment galvanised the country. Posters sprung up with the Australian team surrounded by Australian fans... "THIS TIME, THEY'LL FACE A NATION" was the tagline. KFC in Australia turned Green and Gold. The press got well and truly stuck into the England players, particularly Stuart Broad. It wasn't the England team versus the Australian team any more, it was the England team against the whole of Australia.

England's few years of success recently was built on a backbone of positive and aggressive (dare I say Australian?) cricket mixed with attritional cricket when necessary. Flower and Gooch instilled the Lionheart attitude into the players, they galvanised the team and the Barmy Army had something to really sing about. As it started to unravel, as the Pietersen saga played out after the second 5-0 drubbing I've had the misfortune to be in Australia to experience, the ECB seemed to forget that the best form of defence is attack. They played it safe, they went for Peter Moores. He'd done the job before, he'd been coaching at Lancashire, he deserves another chance. And he had the falling out with Pietersen in 2008/09 so that'll further strengthen the idea that KP is done for good, it shows we're moving on. Does it?! No it f**king doesn't, it shows that England are moving backwards, back to the 1990's, back to the days of Nasser Hussain, Graeme Hick and Mike Atherton, back to the days where England were expected to lose, back when they were conservative in everything they did.

Sir Ian Botham: The one to
change England's attitudes?

So what is the answer? Again, look to Australia. They brought someone in with a knowledge of the Australian way, with the fighting spirit that Australians pride themselves on, the boxing Kangaroo is back. England have their own personalities that embody the British Bulldog, the English Lion and the "England expects..." attitude and they NEED to be involved and as soon as possible, on whatever level. Their names are Sir Ian Botham, Darren Gough and Andrew Flintoff.

Sir Ian Botham, famous for taking on the Australians and triumphing. Famous for being aggressive, famous for not shying away from any situation. Famous for winning the 1981 Ashes Series almost on his own. "Beefy" needs to get into England's players minds and help them develop the mental strength and attitude required at International level.

Darren Gough: LOVED to beat Australia,
but never won an Ashes series

Darren Gough, ran through brick walls for England. Took a hat-trick at the SCG, won Test matches single handedly for England and although he never won an Ashes series, he is a character similar to Darren Lehmann and his own nickname of "Rhino" says enough about his application on a cricket field.

And then there's Freddie. Freddie hit the heights in 2005, and the lows in 2006/07. But throughout his England career he galvanised crowds, lifted players around him and the aggressive nature he brought to his cricket ultimately brought success in two Ashes series. He has been part of an all-conquering England side and his knowledge of bowling skill should be tapped into.

Ashes hero Freddie Flintoff
brought crowds to their feet

Whether Moores remains as coach or not, it's the attitude that needs to change. I'm not suggesting Botham, Gough or Flintoff become the Head Coach, but they need to lift the England players who seemed bereft of confidence, inspiration and, at the moment, the ability to cope with the tough times. Personally, I don't think Moores is the right man to coach England although at this stage I don't have any suggestion as to who might be. The countries that have had sustained success have had it for a reason, and England need to find out how to do it, and even if it's hard to swallow they need to be more like the ones they love to beat... Australia.

RIP Phillip Hughes: Another Tragedy, And One That Hits Home

My last blog entry touched on the tragedy surrounding the death of Robin Williams and the depression he suffered, and today we have learnt of another tragedy and one that will affect many people I associate with. Phillip Hughes, just 3 days short of his 26th birthday, has died after being struck in the neck by a cricket ball 48 hours before. Tragedy is an overused word, but this more than qualifies. Especially when you take into consideration that he was on the verge of being recalled to the Australian Test side to face India next week on the back of Captain Michael Clarke's injury and his own excellent form.

I won't go into the details of Phil Hughes' career as they will have been covered in the press several times this week and will continue to be as the full story emerges. Here in Sydney the news has come as a complete shock and is made even more devastating by the fact that not a single person has a bad word to say about the bloke. What makes it even more difficult to handle is that it was a freakish accident and one that could quite easily have happened to anyone that we play with, and could happen again to anyone.

What has really hit home for me is that I have bowled bouncers that have hit people in the head, and they weren't even wearing helmets. Granted, I am not the quickest bowler around and of course I am not going out there with the aim of injuring another player, and neither was NSW paceman Sean Abbott in the case of Phil Hughes. Aggressive bowling is part of cricket and I have been on the receiving end of this kind of bowling too, from guys that bowl a lot quicker than me. Thankfully for me, I have not (yet) taken a blow to the head with a cricket ball. Like so many things in life though, there are those that have been hit and those that are going to be. I have been hit in the neck, as an 18 year old by an Australian quick back in England. In my case it flew over the keeper's head, we ran 2 and I hit the next ball for 4 to win the game.

What is truly frightening about this is it could be your mate on a cricket field stricken by a blow. We play on a Saturday or Sunday with our mates and against them too. The images of David Warner, Brad Haddin, Shane Watson, Mitchell Starc and others with extreme distress on their faces with their mate Phil Hughes on the ground really slams it home.

What if it was one of my team-mates? How would I react if it was Chris McPherson or Pete Saliba or Dylan Dharmadasa with a bad injury on the field? Or if it was a member of the opposition? I can't imagine the devastation in Sean Abbott's mind at the moment, he must feel completely awful that his delivery not just injured but resulted in the death of an opponent, of a mate. I sincerely hope he gets all the counselling he needs as the early reports are that he has not coped well with the news.

It is not much more than a gesture, but we cancelled our training session tonight at Macquarie Uni CC. Within 30 mins of Hughes' death I requested our President makes sure all our players wear black armbands in our fixtures this weekend and I am sure the same will be done across Sydney Shires and Sydney Grade Cricket.

In the last twelve months the sporting world has had 3 notable head injuries; Michael Schumacher's skiing accident which left him in a coma for months and in a terrible condition for life, Jules Bianchi who collided with a JCB tractor recovering another car at the Japanese GP leaving him in a coma from which he has not woken, and now this.

The death of a sportsman is always tragic, and in such freakish circumstances makes it even more so. All we know is that right now the whole of Australia, and the entire cricket world is in mourning for a bloke who has been described by those around him as an "absolute champion" and there isn't a soul who would argue otherwise. He died playing the sport he loved, he finished his career unbeaten on 63 and thus will forever be NOT OUT.

RIP Phil Hughes. You are already sorely missed and will be for a long time.

Forever Not Out