BEN STOKES TALKS TO MARTIN SAMUEL
ENGLAND’S WILD CHILD HAS GROWN UP, NOW GET READY FOR...
‘I used to be happy to hit 30, but that doesn’t help the team’
BEN STOKES had never been for a job interview before. Well, you wouldn’t, as a professional cricketer. Nobody needs to know your plans for Durham with bat or ball. Nobody requires a PowerPoint presentation. Knock a few over, knock a few off. It’s fairly straightforward.
They don’t ask if you’re up to it, either. They’ve seen you play, they know the score. So when the request came, would Stokes come to discuss the England captaincy, it threw him for a bit of a loop.
‘When you get the phone call, you can’t say no,’ he explained. ‘They asked, “Is this something you’d like to do?” And, I mean, England captain. How could I refuse? But, on the day, I was actually panicking. It was my first job interview ever, and I didn’t know what to wear.
‘I asked my fiancee, Clare. She said to put a shirt and tie on. I said, “Nah, I’ll be all right. I’ll wear jeans, a nice jumper and boots”. And then I turned up and the first thing they said is, “Where’s your shirt and tie?” Andrew Strauss was dressed nice, Jimmy Whitaker was in a suit. I was in a jumper.’
The board should note that in the telling of this story, there seems just a twinge of regret. If Stokes kept his ear to the ground he would probably have known, heading south, that the main job was already earmarked for Joe Root and he was interviewing for the position of No 2. Even so, you never know what might swing the jury. If you get the call again, Ben, some point in the future, how would you dress?
‘I’d wear my England suit and tie,’ he confirms, sensibly.
So, he’s learning. This is a different Stokes, sitting in a cluttered office at the American Golf store in Sunderland (he plays off 12, if you’re interested). He’s not dressed formally for this interview, either, but when he speaks it is with the maturity of a player who has moved beyond punching lockers and quickfire, incendiary cameos with the bat.
England struggled in India this winter, but Stokes was one of the successes: 128 in the first Test, 70 in the second, five for 73 in Mohali and a batting average pushing 40 in trying conditions.
It was noted that he played with patience, worked hard at combating India’s spin, and rarely surrendered his wicket cheaply. It was the performance of a player who is embracing a senior role.
‘In India, the more I played, the more I went away from being an instinct player,’ he agrees. ‘I’m not going to say “See the ball, hit the ball” anymore — I’ve evolved from that. It’s an easy way to play, a cop-out really. The higher up you get, when you go to India and the subcontinent, when you play in those tough conditions, you learn that you have to work to get rewards, or it won’t get better.
‘I can’t be the player I was at 18, 19, thinking if it goes well, it goes well, if it doesn’t, it doesn’t. I’m one of the senior players in the team. The younger, less experienced guys need to see me working on stuff.
‘ We We’veve got players coming through, Haseeb Hameed, Ben Duckett, they are going to look to me the way I looked at players when I came into the team. I watched how they trained — Kevin Pietersen, Ian Bell, Alastair Cook — and I knew why it went well for them. I want the players to know why it goes well for me, to know it comes back to how hard I train.
‘The way I see it, my personality is always going to come out, but there are times that call for a different way of playing, situations where I need to dig in, just bat time for the team.
‘I feel more equipped to do that now. I know if I get in and stay in, things will happen anyway, because I’m a naturally aggressive player. I don’t have to force it.
‘I used to be happy with a quick 30. But that isn’t helping the team when one- day scores of 380 are becoming the norm. And who knows what will be a good score in 10, 20 years time, when the next generation start playing? It could be 380 is a losing score.
‘A few years back I said that I had come to the understanding that I was a player who could be brilliant, but then maybe not hit that peak again for six months or so. I really regret saying it. I wouldn’t want it said about me now. I want to be a consistent performer. Sure, I’d love to do something brilliant now and then — but in between I don’t want nothing, nothing, nothing.
‘I look back and wish I’d never said that. I fell into the trap after the innings at Lord’s (101 v New Zealand) and in Cape Town (258 v South Africa), because they were brilliant moments. I hadn’t changed my outlook since I was a teenager. But now I have. I’m maturing. I’m more vocal in the dressing room. My views are valued, so I’ve got to grow with that as well.’
At his interview, he told the board that England needed a full-time fielding coach with the team every day, not just on secondment. That’s happening. And what Whitaker and Strauss would have gleaned from their conversation — if they didn’t know already — is that in Stokes they have the straightest of talkers. Strong beliefs, strong language. With an Ashes tour coming up later in the year, if Root wants honest counsel he will find it in his forthright lieutenant.
Stokes recalls: ‘One of the questions at the captaincy interview was, “You’ve made the decision to drop a player. Would you tell them — or would you leave it to the coach?” I said I wouldn’t ask the coach to do it, because that isn’t how I’d like to be told. I’ve been left out and the captain has told me, and I’ve immediately had more respect for him because he hasn’t taken the easy route and let someone else give the bad news.
‘Having the balls to tell a player a decision is important. If I had to say something, I’d find it easy, I wouldn’t cop out and put it on anyone else. ‘I hope I can help Joe through any bad times. I know more is going to be asked of me tactically and I’ve got to be prepared for that. And I’ll say things if it’s needed, but cliche isn’t my way. I’m not one who says things just to sound good, to make it sound like you’re a speaker. ‘I’m black and white, and that’s how I prefer people to be with me. I don’t want to ease around a subject. If someone thinks I’m doing something wrong, or I’m being a d*** d***, I’d rather they tell me me.’ ’ So, when was the last time anyone told Stokes he was being a d***? His answer is admirably candid. ‘India, this winter,’ he says. ‘I was having cramps after the first two Tests and Cooky called me in. He’d been speaking with Phil Scott, one of our coaches. ‘He could have kept it low key, but he laid it out. He sat me down. “I think we need to look at what you’re eating. Before cricket, during cricket, after cricket. Are you giving your body the best chance to cope with the heat and the workload?” Before I could reply, he said: “I don’t think you are.” OK, fair enough. I’m not saying I agreed, but I acted on what he
said. That is the best way to have a conversation. Get to the point.
‘From there I made a big effort to eat right, especially after a long day. Fluids, carbs. It is difficult sometimes when all you want to do is lay on the bed and have something light. But you do feel the effects the day after. Funnily enough, after that I didn’t get cramp again the rest of the tour.’
It helps that Stokes’s cricket philosophy chimes with the England management, Trevor Bayliss and Paul Farbrace. He is not one for endless rounds of what Shane Warne called homework, or for being hazed by the Royal Marines in the name of team spirit.
St Stokesk stilltill i insistsit hi his attentiontt ti span in team meetings doesn’t stretch beyond 15 minutes, but Bayliss’s methods are looser, making hours of footage and scouting reports available for those who need it, and leaving others to take only what they wish.
‘The conversations we have now are very short and sharp, which I like,’ Stokes explains. ‘It’s all about what we do, the focus is on us. We have so much stuff available on iPads, as much footage as we’d need. So that’s good, better than getting us all in a room to sit looking at a screen for 30 minutes to discover somebody leaves the ball well.
‘This way suits me because I lose interest very quickly. We get on to a subject and I’m...’ — he mimes glancing around a room, distractedly — ‘I try my hardest, but I just can’t and then it’s all over and I’ m like, “S***, what happened there?” I’m not a big one for looking at batsmen or bowlers that I know. If it’s someone new, or someone hard to pick, that’s different. But my best preparation is training well, not studying for hours on a laptop. That won’t do me any good.
‘I could have done two hours of research but what’s the point if I’m hitting the ball badly and bowling into the side-netting. If the ball’s not going anywhere near where it should, what use is a laptop to me?
‘We’re going to Desert Springs in Spain before the ICC Trophy, like we did before the Ashes. That’s good. We’re training, but we’re also playing golf, playing football, bike rides, quizzes, enjoying being in each other’s company.
‘Then we’ll do fitness work, and a load of fielding. Team bonding doesn’t have to be going off and getting pole-axed by the army for 12 hours a day. What’s good about that? Nobody enjoys that.t It’s not fun. The only way you bondb is that you’re all slating it. “What“W the f*** are we doing out here at six in the f****** morning?” That’sTha not my way and, luckily, it’s notno Trevor or Farby’s way either.’
He’s relaxed now. You can tell by the ripe language. It seems as good a moment as any to raise the issue of rage. In 2014, S Stokes broke his right wrist punchi punching a dressing-room locker in frustrationfrus on a West Indies tour. As England’s newly-appointed vice-c vice-captain, can he guarantee there will be no repeat in, say, the highlyhigh charged atmosphere of an AshesAshe tour?
‘I won’t lie, I still ge get p***** off whenh I’ I’m out,t if th that’st’ what you mean,’ he says. ‘I still throw my helmet. Not my bat because they’re too nice these days, so you wouldn’t want to break them. But pads? They make a lovely loud noise, and they can’t really break, however hard you throw them.
‘If I’m very annoyed, though, dangerously annoyed, I pack my bag. That takes so long, kit off, putting everything in the right place that, yeah, I’m still annoyed but the edge has gone. I swear as I go: “F****** d***head... what were you f****** doing... stupid p****...” But, as I do it, I’m putting stuff in and the anger’s fading. That moment when I punched the locker? I’d say it’s completely gone.’
It wasn’t the first time his temper caused injury, either. ‘I’d done it before, yes. When I was a kid, 13, 14. Broke my hand punching a door. Turned out it was a fire door. I didn’t know. Got out in a final, we needed 15 to win. I’ve got much better control over myself now, but I still like a blow-up.’
So, he says, do plenty of others. ‘I wouldn’t presume to advise anyone about how to handle it,’ Stokes says. ‘Just let them go, let them do what they need to do. Getting out is the most annoying thing in the world. Everyone hates it. Eoin Morgan is terrible. You can see it in him, stewing. But he would never react like me. A bit of swearing, and then he’ll go out and start watching the cricket again.
‘Jason Roy’s the worst. On a par with me, really. Very loud, loves throwing something. I appreciate a good blow-up, particularly some of Jason’s. You sit back waiting for it. “Here he comes, this’ll be good.” I think people appreciate some of mine as well, as spectators.
‘But every changing room has a player like it. Some have two or three. It’s so common. You’ve got to allow people to be different. I broke my wrist because I was bottling everything up. I was not showing that side because I didn’t think it was right — and then, three failures, and all the frustration I’d pushed in, in, in went bang.’
Does Stokes worry that the restraints of his new responsibility might make him go bang again?
‘No, I’ve come to terms with it,’ he decides. ‘I got hit for four sixes in the last over of a World T20 final. I was distraught. The day after, I was walking around thinking everybody was talking about me.
‘But that was one day, and I’ve got so many more in cricket. Some will be good, some bad. I’ve already experienced them all. I always play down success because then I won’t get too low about failure. Take either too seriously, and it takes too long to come back.’
He’s 25, a father of two, and vicecaptain of England. It doesn’t need a collar and tie to show Ben Stokes is all grown up these days.
‘I don’t throw my bat these days... they’re too nice now!’