Boycs, Bangladesh are here to stay

It was lunch on the first day of India's Lord's Test in 2002 and he was in the buffet queue ahead of me, deciding which cold cuts to load his plate with. I wanted to interview him, but was apprehensive to go up and ask, afraid that he'd brush me away with that manner that is fondly referred to as Yorkshire brusqueness, but is known in the rest of the world as rudeness. So I asked a senior Indian journalist, who knew Geoff Boycott well, to introduce me. He looked me up and down, more as if I was a prospective son-in-law than someone seeking an interview, and finally agreed to answer a few questions, and asked me to pop by at lunch the next day.

Nervous, thoroughly prepared, I met him at the appointed hour. He ushered me up to the radio commentary box where he was working, and it was surprisingly easy getting him to talk. Of course, it helped that I was asking him about the time he was dropped for slow scoring soon after he had made a career-best 246 not out in Headingley. "I rang home and asked me partner to go through the old notebooks and fetch these scores," he said, handing me a note on which he had neatly written out his run of poor scores leading up to the Test where he made 246. He took great pains to explain the context to me, stopping only to ask rhetorical questions like, "You do understand what I mean by uncovered wickets?"

It was delightful half-hour spent with a man who cared passionately about the game. It was everything I imagined it would be - educative, entertaining, a little intimidating. It was Sir Geoffrey holding court on a favourite subject.

From that day onwards, I have never missed an opportunity to listen to him speak. When he is on air doing commentary, I particularly watch out for his descriptions of fields bowlers should set to particular batsmen, for the manner in which he sees a batsman being set up before the eventual dismissal, even, just the spontaneous manner he blurts out "Shot" to a certain stroke. His post-match analysis is incisive, and when he rarely asks questions, they cut to the crux of the matter. But I am glad I missed him delivering the Cowdrey lecture.

For Boycott tackled a sensitive subject in much the manner he faced up to that Michael Holding over at Barbados in 1981. He played completely down the wrong line in saying "They [Bangladesh] are an embarrassment to Test cricket." He was nowhere near the pitch of the ball when he suggested, "Nobody wants to see it and the vast accumulation of runs against them does nothing for the game." And he was clean bowled when he spluttered, "My mum would have scored runs and got wickets against Bangladesh ... she'd have wanted to bat and bowl at both ends."

For all his 20-20 hindsight, Boycott is simply unwilling to see what's in front of him. Bangladesh is a Test-playing country, and they are going to stay that way, whether he likes it or not. Many people take tremendous joy in watching Bangladesh play - even if they're getting routinely thrashed - full stadia in any home game is one good indication. Another is the fact that as many as 14 Bangladeshi journalists were sent to England by their publications to cover the Champions Trophy, where their team would play just two matches, and in all likelihood be unceremoniously dumped from the tournament.

There's been plenty said about Bangladesh's presence devaluing Test runs and wickets. And that may well be true. But it is hardly the point. For it is incredibly short-sighted to expect any country to become world beaters in five years. It is a long haul for Bangladesh, and it is vitally important that they improve as quickly as they can. For that, they need all the help they can get.

And figures like Boycott, whose every utterance is eagerly lapped up by the cricketing public around the world, need to be especially careful what they say. It's one thing for the fool on the street to watch Sachin Tendulkar tamely pat a full toss back to the bowler, and say, "Even I could have hit that for six." It is another entirely for those who see themselves, fortunately or unfortunately, or are seen as custodians of the game, to be loosely flinging statements around.

We love to hear you talk about batting, Mr Boycott, but we'd love it even more if you stuck to just that. Or at least, if you have to pick on someone, like the Bangladeshis, please leave your mum out of it.