Meet the Roy Keane of Scottish cricket!
JOHN BLAIN EXPLAINS THE FIERCE WILL TO WIN AND SELF-BELIEF THAT HELPED SHAPE A COLOURFUL CAREER
THE conversation with John Blain starts not long after he has shovelled snow from the walkways at Grange Cricket Club. The former fast bowler speaks of clearing the pathways in connection with bringing on young sportsmen and women in his role as director of cricket at the club.
The piles of snow swept aside indicate, however, that every Blain strategy has the foundation of hard work. It is, after all, what marked his journey from Penicuik to first-class cricket.
It is a route that has featured bowling with Curtly Ambrose, playing in a back four with Davie Weir and being dubbed Roy Keane by Michael Vaughan in a relaxed counselling session.
His baptism as a young cricketer included throwing cherry-red bombs at posh boys and being in awful proximity to a murder on his introduction to Northamptonshire.
He is a bowler whose life has reflected his professional attributes of pace, industry and aggression.
‘When I was a player — and I probably had to have this mindset — it was all about me,’ he says.
Climbing ladders as a professional sportsman can be very toxic
‘Don’t get me wrong, I played within a team but if I did well, the team did well. I wish I had more of a vision for others and the team as a player. I have that now as a coach.’
Now 42, this is not a statement of regret, but of understanding.
‘Leaving Penicuik at 16, and surviving in pro cricket, I had to have that single-mindedness,’ he says. ‘I wish I had spent more time looking at the bigger picture.’
That picture slowly comes into focus over an extended conversation. Blain played for Northants, Yorkshire (later being a coach for the latter county) and had a highly successful career for Scotland, playing in 118 matches and taking 188 wickets until he walked away from national duty in 2009.
‘I wish someone had sat me down and explained how my feelings fitted into the wider picture,’ he says of the evening before the WorldTwenty20 when he simply took a train home from England after a post-match debrief was not conducted to his satisfaction.
‘I still stand by why I did it,’ he insists. ‘The points I made have come to the fore since then. I wish someone had taken me aside and said: “I am not condoning or condemning your emotions at this time but can you see how this fits into the grand scheme of the team ethos?”
‘It was about standards, 100 per cent. I felt we were falling below the standards that the team had historically. Ultimately, I cost myself 10 years of international cricket. The learning for me came in the second phase of my life.’
The learning has been achieved formally as he has reached level four, the highest cricket coaching credential. But it has also been a by-product of experience.
Vaughan’s mischievous allusion to Keane and Saipan when talking to Blain about his Scotland exit shows how far the Lothian lad had come and the illustrious company he kept.
It all started in Penicuik, of course. The local cricket club was at the bottom of his garden. Blain excelled both in flannels and in a football strip. At 13, he was spotted by Jim Love, Scotland cricket coach, when he terrorised the ‘posh boys’ at Merchiston when playing for the South region.
‘We were supposed to be the humping boys,’ he explains. ‘We won the tournament that year. We just had an old-fashioned, sleeves-rolled-up style. We got stuck into them.’
For “we”, read Blain. Contemporary accounts testify to his power. Love franked this by fast-tracking the youngster into the Scotland set-up. Blain made his debut at 16 years of age.
‘I don’t want to sound selfindulgent here but I didn’t know how good I was,’ he says of life as teenager. ‘I just turned up and played. I had no swagger. I just got on with it. I knew I played well that day at Merchiston. I was fit and strong and I knew I was capable of causing havoc.’
He was also capable of organising a defence in his role with Falkirk youths after a spell at Hibernian.
‘I played in a back four with Falkirk reserves that read: me, Kevin James, Davie Weir and Andy Seaton. My core skills were not as good in football as they were in cricket but I saw the strategy better in football. When I played cricket, I just batted and bowled. When I played football, I could see the organisational requirements. It’s funny, I still can when I am watching football on the television.’
He worked at Falkirk under Jim Jefferies but remembers the day he had to tell the manager that another calling had loudly drawn his attention. Blain had gone for a trial with Northants. He had been successful. Another life beckoned.
THE stone-cold reality of modern sport still allows for the existence of a feverish surreality. ‘The first day at Northants, I was going in to bowl in the nets,’ he recalls. ‘I saw this car that was being driven by itself. There seemed to be no one in the front seat. But it was Curtly Ambrose in his Ford Mondeo, He had pushed his front seat so far back he was better looking out the rear window.’
Moments later, the great West Indian paceman (pictured), all 6ft 8ins of him, was bowling alongside the callow Scot in the nets. ‘It was simply phenomenal, no other word,’ says Blain a quarter of a century on. He has a clear recall of that day. ‘There was one wonderful conversation,’ he says. Neil Foster, the Northants coach, had asked Blain if he had a slow ball. The young tyro said no. ‘Neil turns to Curtly and says: “Do you have a fast ball?” ‘Curtly says: “I just bowl fast, man”. Blain adds: ‘That was my introduction to county cricket.’ It was a career that immediately had him as 14th man at the Oval (helping the physio to rub David Capel’s leg to relieve cramp) and a debut against Derbyshire on September 7, 1997, when he took five for 24. He has the press cutting in the garage alongside Ambrose’s signed boots. He also has memories of the tough times. His dad gave him a Vauxhall Nova to drive to Northampt o n . ‘It is 365 miles from Penicuik. I
I am happier than I have ever been and I am helping others. That’s not so bad, is it?
remember that to this day. I also remember that the car was broken into on my first night and all my gear stolen. And there was later the night when I heard a woman screaming and it was a murder on the racecourse.’
The gritty and the grisly helped form a sturdy competitor. ‘I had a hardy upbringing in football,’ he says. ‘I was determined, my folks are determined people. It is only looking back now that I ask how did I survive?’
He more than survived. He prospered. His career saw him inducted into the Scottish Cricket Hall of Fame but he has now immersed himself in coaching at Grange after a spell at West of Scotland cricket club.
‘I always say that climbing ladders as a professional sportsman can be toxic. It should carry a warning,’ he says. ‘It’s not for the faint-hearted. You have to develop a side of your personality to survive. I am completely different off the field from what I was like on it.’
He has nurtured his softer side as a coach. ‘A happy kid, a happy athlete, is a successful one,’ he says. ‘I am confident about what I can offer helping on skills but you have to understand the person, too.’
He has not dialled back on the passion. ‘You have to have that, 100 per cent,’ he says. ‘But what is important is that you have to realise it is about the youngster. This seems obvious but there are coaches who are seeking to climb that ladder and have forgotten that. Good coaching opportunities will come as a by-product of being selfless.
‘I have had my time in sport and I was very lucky to come across people who were supportive and gave me opportunities. That’s what I have to do now: create pathways, give opportunities, and educate.’
The programme at Grange — where the academy was set up in 2016 — has brought through some promising cricketers but youngsters are also taking up openings in football and rugby.
Scottish cricket at the national squad level seemed to be on an upward swing before the Covid pandemic and Blain believes progress has been hit. ‘It’s a difficult time for the team because of the virus and because of a general lack of cricket,’ he says. He bemoans the loss of the days when Scotland could play against the English counties. ‘The team needs opportunities to develop,’ he says.
He is still the lad from Penicuik. He has returned to the town and lives there with his partner and children. He is still involved in football, too, with a role with Hutchison Vale, the top youth team.
His past is star-crossed, his present filled with everything from snow duties to mentoring. His future?
‘I really don’t know,’ he says. ‘I am happy in what I am doing. Isn’t that what it is all about? The life of a sportsperson can be lonely but I am happier than I have ever been and I am helping others. That’s not so bad, is it? I like the fact that it is not just about me.’
He adds: ‘Will I stay in cricket or could I branch out into football? Who knows? But I am content.’
John Blain, a sunny soul after the most testing of winters.