Bob Willis and the great gift of friendship
In these divided times, we could all learn from the cricketer’s good humour and universal tolerance
This afternoon, in Mortlake, we shall say goodbye to Bob Willis, the great cricketer who died earlier this month. The wider public recognised him as a magnificent fast bowler who played 90 Test matches for England. His friends knew a different man, who made time for everyone and brought much joy into the lives of those who loved him.
It will be a sad occasion. It will also be a time for that affirmation of the spirit which always survives the loss of loved ones. Robert had so many friends, who will remember him today in the midsummer of life, draining beakers of wine and sharing tales of human folly. No surprise that Willis, a Bob Dylan aficionado so passionate that he adopted Dylan as his middle name, will make his final farewell to his idol’s secular hymn, Forever Young.
There is never a bad time to celebrate the gift of friendship. At the end of a year when our country has been stretched almost to breaking point it seems right to acknowledge the things that bring us together, and there are more of them than some imagine. By and large, whatever our political or social views, British people rub along pretty well. In Paris they have been rioting in the streets every week for a year. In this country we settle differences by putting a cross against our name in a polling booth.
Some grouches, like the former Labour MP Laura Pidcock, are happy to proclaim their lifelong antipathy to those of a different political hue. As she was unseated last week by the electors of North West Durham, she doesn’t lack opportunity to consider her position in more ways than one. Whether the passing of time brings wisdom is another matter.
The House of Commons has made a good start in directing us towards our better selves by anointing Lindsay Hoyle as Speaker. How bracing to have a well-balanced person sitting in that chair, somebody clearly well-disposed towards his fellow human beings.
Oddly enough, they seem to like him, too. Already the air in Westminster smells sweeter. A proper Lancastrian! You can never have enough of ‘em.
The British gift for friendship is a remarkable aspect of our national genius. Personal loyalty is not exclusive to us, of course, but strong feelings held in check can be profoundly moving. Just as a horse’s power is most visible when it is being restrained, the strength of a friendship is most touching when it remains implicit, not painted in gaudy colours.
Take the alliance between Willis and Ian Botham, his comrade on and off the field. Botham is a forthright man with a mighty heart, untainted by self-doubt. Bobby was thoughtful and slightly melancholic. He loved Wagner, and maybe saw something of Siegfried in the young Botham. Temperamentally, these great sportsmen were miles apart. Yet their friendship was strong and deep in that unaffected English way.
Contrary to cliché, we do not choose our friends. We fall into friendship with people over months or years in ways that may surprise us. True friendship has nothing to do with similarity of opinion. We often get on best with those with whom we disagree, as Miss Pidcock may discover if she takes the trouble to find out.
The personal, as another lazy phrase has it, is political. It may be. Then again, it may not. On the whole, sympathy does more good than “solidarity”, just as a quiet word trumps “emotional literacy”. Divisions along clearly marked lines of sex, sexuality, tribe or class represent failures of the imagination. Identity politics, guarded by zealots, is the enemy of civilised life – and of mutual comprehension.
A friend who once shared a house with Michael Gove said that although he disagreed with Gove’s political views he was a good and loyal friend. Can you imagine that batey fifth-former Owen Jones being so generous? Or Yasmin Alibhai-brown, who seems to spend every waking hour in a fog of indignation? What comic value that fair-minded lady has provided over the years. Sadly, she vowed to leave the country if Boris Johnson became Prime Minister, so we shall now have to take our pleasures in other ways.
It is the season of goodwill to all men (and women), when we celebrate the birth of Our Lord. Whether we are Christians or not, we should all give thanks for love human and divine, and for the spark that fires our clay.