Mike Hendrick:an obituary

It is always sad when one of the heroes of your youth passes away. So, the increased sadness for me in today's announcement of the passing of Mike Hendrick.

'Hendo' was the last genuinely great Derbyshire-born seam bowler. That word is over-used in the modern world, but it is well-deserved in this instance.

He was always talented, but stepped up a level with the advent of Eddie Barlow. The South Africa's demand for a higher level of fitness from all of his players saw Mike capable of bowling long spells, zipping the ball around off the turf and at times being close to unplayable

There was a school of thought that he sometimes bowled too short, that pushing it up a little more might see balls that passed the edge take it. He could point to a career record of 719 wickets at under 20 and he led the Derbyshire attack with style and class for years.

Besides, for much of that time runs were in short supply for a batting lineup that was rarely prolific. Pitching it up would cost runs that, at least in his early years, we seldom had to play with.

I still recall a spell against Yorkshire at Chesterfield, when he opened from the Pavilion End after we had once again been summarily dismissed. Against a very solid batting side, including Geoffrey Boycott, he beat the bat and took wickets in a spell that was simply magnificent. Had the ball been on elastic he could scarce have jerked it around better and the challenge for lesser mortals was clear. Boycott survived to the close.. just.. but it was one of the most compelling sessions of cricket I have watched.

He was the last in a long lineage of outstanding seam bowlers from within the county borders. I saw Harold Rhodes and Alan Ward, but it was hard to think that his predecessors were massively better than Mike. Perhaps Les Jackson, maybe on his day Bill Copson, but if one considers that he bowled on covered wickets, his figures take on a different complexion. He rarely wasted the new ball, indeed would have regarded it a sin. He emerged from a tough school under Denis Smith, where young players were never molly-coddled and blunt talk was commonplace. 

'If he drives like he bowls he won't hit owt', he said of one trialist who roared away in a sports car after an erratic spell in the nets. They didn't get to leave many when Mike bowled. 

He wasn't really a batsman, but in time-honoured fashion hit merrily when his time came. While it lasted it was spectacular, but crease occupation was seldom his game. He was a fine fielder anywhere, a secure pair of hands at slip, which was one way he differed from the greats of the past.

Like too many others of his vintage and later, the end was acrimonious and he moved to Nottinghamshire for a while, then became a highly-regarded coach.

He was a man of contrasts off the pitch. He could be dour, but life didn't always treat him as it should have and he was poorly treated  and often ignored by Derbyshire in his later years.

Yet he could be witty and downright funny. Some will recall the sketches that he did with Geoff Miller, as two Derbyshire miners on local radio. His reference to 'thon Eric Bartlett, from South Africa - he baaarls big benders y' know' lives with me and always brings a smile.

So too does his bowling. A tall man, with long arms and sometimes shaggy hair, his marking out of his run marked the beginning of nigh-gladiatorial combat, quarter neither given nor asked for. A loping run, an arm thrust skywards and an action that was natural, repeatable and classic. 

He did it for Derbyshire and he did it for England, home and away. In that respect he was more fortunate than some of his predecessors, who got scant recognition at top level, but then he was a special bowler. 

Bestwick, Warren, Copson, the Popes, Jackson, Gladwin and now Mike Hendrick. 

That is quite a pantheon, all of them sadly no longer with us. 

Rest in Peace, Mike. It really was a pleasure to watch you over all of those years.