The Autobiography by Alastair Cook

Author:Alastair Cook
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
ISBN: 9780241401453
Publisher: Penguin Books Ltd
Published: 2019-09-05T04:00:00+00:00

11. Fallout

Ending anyone’s international career is a horrible, hateful experience. When it concerns a globally renowned, passionately admired figure you have played alongside for eight years it is uniquely uncomfortable. There is no easy way to express the hardest truth of elite sport, that everyone, to a lesser or greater degree, lives on borrowed time.

We didn’t need Wisden to measure Kevin Pietersen’s stature. Statistics, 8,181 Test runs at an average of 47.28, incorporating thirty-two hundreds for England across all forms of the game, merely hint at the majesty of the memories he created. Ultimately his personality was as integral to the decision as his waning powers of performance.

Andy Flower, as expected, had resigned as director of the Test team a couple of days earlier. Kevin had never really convinced him that he bought into the principle of being a team player without reservation. A consensus had emerged during the one-day series in Australia, and on our return home, that a statement of intent and a reaffirmation of trust were overdue.

Kevin was centrally contracted but, like all of us, had no guarantee of selection. Simply not picking him was a theoretical option, but I supported Paul Downton, the ECB’s managing director. ‘I don’t want that cloud hanging over us,’ he told James Whitaker, the national selector, and me. ‘I don’t want every press conference to start with the question, “Is KP coming back?” I don’t want us to get bowled out cheaply and have everyone asking, “Is KP coming back?”’

Paul was my boss. He had the authority to confirm the big decision and wanted to make a clean break. As captain, my opinions carried weight. I had a responsibility to communicate the views of other senior players. Like me, they felt it was time to move on without Kevin, so that we could all have breathing room. It was not a final banishment, because in international sport no one can say never, but on a human level I felt a sense of dread. We were dealing with someone with whom I’d shared some magical experiences.

I met Downton and Whitaker in the coffee shop of the Danubius Hotel in St John’s Wood, opposite the Nursery End at Lord’s. No one was entirely sure how Kevin was going to react when we called him into a first-floor meeting room. I knew what was going to be said. As a player you learn to cope with nerves, but I can’t lie. It was a deeply unpleasant experience.

Formalities were icy, as they tend to be in this type of situation in any job. Downton thanked Kevin for his service to English cricket, paid due homage to the magnitude of his career, but ended a brief summary with the words ‘we are no longer going to pick you for England’. Kevin was poker-faced, stood up and said, ‘OK, thanks,’ and walked out of the room.

The meeting had lasted, in my estimation, no more than three minutes. Kevin would later describe me as a ‘company man’ who looked down at his shoes throughout the process.

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