Acknowledgements
I would like to thank the following, who by way of expertise, access to memorabilia, friendship or detailed recollection where my own personal memory was sketchy have helped in the writing of my memoirs: Julian Alexander and all at Lucas Alexander Whitley; Trevor Bailey; Ken and jean Bolam; Brian Close; Phill Dann; Terry and Machita Denny; Ray Illingworth; Stanley Jackson; Georgina Morley; Stuart Evers and all at Macmillan; Jane, Toni and Charley Morrell, Steve and Deb Waterall; Yorkshire CCC - and the respective families of Veronica and me.
I would particularly like to express my sincere thanks to my good friend Les Scott, who collaborated with me on my memoirs. Having worked with George Best, Sir Stanley Matthews, Gordon Banks, Jimmy Greaves and Peter Shilton on their respective books, Les kudos and standing as a writer is well known in sporting circles.
He has written for press, television and radio and wrote the screenplay for The Rose of Tralee. Having been an admirer of his writing for some years, when I decided to write my memoirs it was to Les to whom I turned for a helping hand. Thanks for all your help, Les, it has been a joy to work with you and above all, great fun!
For Sal, Lauren and Ruby
FRED TRUEMAN, 2004
CONTENTS
ONE
MOTHER NATURES SON
TWO
YORKSHIRE CALLING
THREE
TO CAP IT ALL
FOUR
SERVING MY COUNTRY
FIVE
AC1 TRUEMAN - OVER AND OUT
SIX
YOU WHITE ENGLISH BASTARD
SEVEN
THE CHANGING GAME
EIGHT
THE INJUSTICE OF IT ALL
NINE
CAREER SUCCESS AND MARRIAGE FAILURE
TEN
TIME, GENTLEMEN, PLEASE
ELEVEN
HOME AND AWAY
TWELVE
THE FINAL BOW
THIRTEEN
MOVING ON
FOURTEEN
20/20 AND ALL THAT
EPILOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
MOTHER NATURES SON
I HAVE ALWAYS BEEN HONEST, upfront and forthright. I see things for what they are and tell it the way it is. Such an attitude has not always been to the benefit of yours truly, Frederick Sewards Trueman, to give me my Sunday name. I always offer respect for others and expect the same in return. Again, that has not always been to my benefit. Countless words have been written about me and numerous stories attributed to my name, Sunday or otherwise. Some of these stories are true, some are half-truths, others downright lies. There is also much about me that has not been told. Until now, that is. When I decided to write my memoirs, among other things I saw it as an opportunity to put the record straight. To denounce the lies and the half-truths and reveal the myriad untold stories, all true, that have made me who I am. In so doing I will be as I have always been: honest, upfront, forthright and respectful of my fellow man. Laudable qualities to my mind, though you wouldnt believe the trouble they have caused throughout the course of my life.
In the early sixties, following a Test match in Melbourne, I joined my England team mates for a post-match drink. The atmosphere was convivial and I was sharing a joke with my good pal and Roses adversary, Lancashires Brian Statham. The room was filled with the soft hum of conversation when I heard a plummy, Old Etonian voice elevate itself above all others.
Trueman! Over here!
I felt the hackles rise on the back of my neck. I turned to see where the voice was coming from and saw a knot of MCC selection committee members, seemingly doing their best to help the profits of Gordons gin and Schweppes tonic. Trueman! repeated the plummy voice, the owner of which was now crooking a finger, beckoning me to join him.
Excuse me, Brian, I said to my England colleague before making my way across to the gentleman who was so rudely demanding my presence.
With all due respect, who the hell do you think youre talking to? I said as I joined them. My parents christened me Frederick Sewards Trueman. Now friends may call me Frederick, Fred or Freddie. I dont mind. But what I do not respond to is Trueman! Especially when beckoned. I have a dog, it comes to my side when I call its name. Im not anybodys clog to beck and call by shouting Trueman.
By way of emphasis I gave a sharp nod of the head and watched the faces of those committee members fall like a cookbook cake. The Old Etonian in question was none other than the Duke of Norfolk. Credit to him, he never said such again. In fact, from that day on, we were to have nothing but the greatest respect for one another and became good friends. I was later to learn, however, that my forthright attitude hadnt gone down well with the other MCC selection committee members. In time stories got back to me of conversations and mumblings that had taken place within Lords committee rooms and gentlemens clubs.
Whats up with that Trueman fellow? Seems to have an almighty chip on his shoulder.
That Trueman, always seems to be upsetting the apple cart. Bit of a rebel if you ask me. Must keep an eye out for him, what?
Trouble with Trueman is, he wont listen to advice.
Such comments would eventually make their way back to me and, though never one to go with hearsay, I was left in little doubt such comments were true. The truth of the matter is, I was never a rebel. Neither was I anti-establishment. On the contrary, I was wholly supportive of crickets hierarchy. What I objected to was the attitude, snobbery and bigotry displayed by some who, by way of their heredity, money or social connections, beset crickets establishment in my time as a player and beyond.
I played sixty-seven Tests for England between 1952 and 1965, becoming the first player in the history of the game to take 300 Test wickets. Though far fewer International matches were played in my time as a player, my sixty-seven Tests were spread over a period of thirteen years. Irrespective of the fact I was at the top of my game for Yorkshire and frequently topped the county bowling averages I was often overlooked for England. To my mind the reason for this was personal. Quite simply, some of the selection committee did not like my forthright attitude, which they misinteipreted as being bolshy. Rather than pick the best eleven players for the job, the selection committee would often choose someone because he was, in their eyes, a gentleman and a decent chap. Such attributes often took precedence over someones ability to play International cricket.
For this reason, I was selected for far fewer Tests than I believe I should have been. To my mind, if Id had the opportunity to play in those Tests, Im sure I would have topped 400 Test wickets. But that was not to be - even though I was regularly taking 100-plus wickets a season for Yorkshire.
In all, I took 2,304 wickets - to date no other fast bowler in the history of the game can claim more - took 438 catches and scored 9,195 runs (981 for England) including three centuries two for Yorkshire and one for England. Not a bad record for a player considered by many as simply a fast bowler!
Yet nowhere have I ever seen it written that Fred Trueman was an all-rounder. I have no gripes with that. It all comes down to how one is perceived. To some I was a troublemaker and rebel; to others simply a fast bowler. Those with only a passing interest in the game recognize me through my career as a journalist, TV presenter and broadcaster. I dont mind how people perceive me in terms of my career as long as they recognize me as being honest, forthright and respectful of others.
I have put my name to several books. What I have not done up to now is write my memoirs. When I came to the decision that the time was right to commit my life to the written page, I also decided that I would need a little guidance. I asked my good friend, the writer and broadcaster Les Scott, to help. We discussed a possible title for my book. I told Les I didnt want any of the silly titles I had seen on other autobiographies.
