Recognition for Rowe

Twenty-eight years after leading a rebel tour to South Africa, Lawrence Rowe has apologised to the people of Jamaica and the pavilion at Sabina Park has been named after him.

Rowe, a long-time resident of the United States, was back in Jamaica for the ceremony, an act of redemption that is, perhaps long overdue. The statistics don't tell the full story about the West Indian, a most delightful batsman who had one season with Derbyshire in 1974. He had so much time to play his shots that you wondered how he could ever get out, yet that is what he managed to do for us, time after time. He oozed class, but never made it tell in our colours.

On his debut against Sussex at a freezing County Ground,  as far removed from Jamaica as you could be, Rowe stroked a delightful 94 against an attack including John Snow and Tony Greig. He looked set to follow a prolific winter, in which he had scored 302 against England at Bridgetown, with a barrel load of runs in the county game.

I saw him several times that summer, sixteen years old and desperate for a sporting hero. I'd listened to the radio during the winter of 1973-74, as commentators waxed lyrical about his strokeplay. Dad and I just grinned at one another, envisaging Rowe leading a Derbyshire resurgence. We saw him play some of the most delightful cameos, thirties and forties of charm and elegance, then were frustrated as he continually gave it away. Rowe often whistled as he batted - nerves, confidence or an affectation? If the latter, it needed backing up with runs. If the former, maybe it was a factor in under-achievement.

Later that May, in a televised game against Gloucestershire played at Bristol, he eased his way to 71 runs, playing every shot in the book in what amounted to a batting masterclass. Deft late-cuts, a square cut like a rapier, a cover drive of genuine elegance, a hook for six when Brian Brain dropped one short. "His defensive technique is the best I've seen on a West Indian" said Dad, who had seen all of their greats. He toyed with David Graveney, before playing around a straight one and departing in a most disappointing manner. It was as if he'd had enough, like watching a world-class tenor fluff the high C at the end of the aria then sing the end of it in the wrong key.

We went on to lose the game, Brian Bolus bringing in the field when our hosts needed four off the last ball. Dad berated the skipper for about two weeks and still brings it up at least twice a year...

We listened to the cricket scores on the radio and it was always the same. "Lawrence Rowe made a stylish 38/45/56/72" - whatever. Yet he never bettered that debut score. We saw him against Yorkshire at Chesterfield, again in the John Player League and he opened with Tony Borrington, easing a four past mid-on and then another with a text book cover drive, the front knee bending, the follow through held for the cameras. He was class, C-L-A-S-S. The Yorkies were going to be put to the sword, then suddenly he was gone, run out, the bowler knocking Borrington's firmly-struck drive onto the stumps at the non-striker's end as he backed up too far. There was a draught across Queens Park from the heads being shaken...

So why didn't it work out for Lawrence Rowe? He was unlucky with niggling injuries, though there were suggestions in some quarters of hypochondria. John Wright's autobiography records a team mate telling him of Rowe undergoing a fitness test in the nets, batting on a wicket that was pretty poor. He never missed a ball, looked miles better than anyone else and then professed himself unfit, to general incredulity. He suffered badly from hayfever, which didn't help, while a knee injury hampered him to some extent. "Eye trouble" kept raising its head from people you spoke to and his later career was blighted by serious astigmatism in his leading left eye, something that couldn't be satisfactorily treated with glasses. It explained a lot and it may well have been that there were times he just didn't pick the ball up. Others reported that he feared failure and disappointing people, saying the pressure just built up inside him.

He signed off with 26 against Northamptonshire at Derby, another innings that promised much but ended in disappointment. If we had known more about the seriousness of the eye problem we might have been more understanding, but Rowe was a talent largely unfulfilled. A century in World Series Cricket, 175 against a fit and flying Lillee and Thomson, is still regarded as one of the finest innings played in Australia. There was another brilliant century in South Africa on the rebel tour too, but the good days for Lawrence Rowe became more sporadic. His career finished with a Test average of 43 and a first-class one of 38.

For a man who, when he batted, looked even better than Viv Richards it was not enough. It just shows that all the talent in the world still needs a little luck. With a decent left eye he could have been one of the all-time greats.