In years to come it will be intriguing to see how the cricket career of Steven Finn is viewed.
Steven’s playing career, which, at the age of 34, ended on Monday when he announced his retirement from cricket, would provide a perfect case study of the highs, lows and traumas of being an international sportsman, and its findings would undoubtedly provide a great deal for those of us in the professional game to debate and learn from.
Despite the potential enlightenment, I hope it doesn’t happen – in five years-time I want and believe conversation on what Steven has achieved in cricket to have moved on. By then I expect the discussion to be on what a great addition he has been to BBC’s Test Match Special team and that he is the stand out replacement for the retiring Jonathan Agnew.
Conversations at the moment will inevitably centre on the cricket Steven played and whether he should have played more games and taken more wickets for England. It is an acceptable and understandable debate, and the answer is undoubtedly YES.
Before reasoning why the answer is YES I want to congratulate Steven on the huge amount he did achieve in his cricketing career. There have and will be Middlesex players who finish with more decorated careers for the Club, but it will be a while before a Middlesex bowler outperforms him on the international stage. In total he made 126 appearances for England and claimed 254 wickets, which are numbers greater than any other Middlesex bowler has produced. These are statistics that should be celebrated.
Off the field he has, and continues to conduct himself impeccably, and is proving to be a wonderful role model. Cricket has and continues to be good to him too, and he leaves playing having given as much to the game as he has taken.
So why do we sit here mulling over whether things could/should have turned out differently?
The reason is because 6ft 7inch athletes that are capable of propelling a cricket ball down the pitch at 90+mph do not come around very often. They are a rare breed, so when one does come along they ought to be looked after like a Ming vase.
And that will be the question English cricket, as its attempts to eliminate error and maximise the potential of every athlete, will feel the need to answer – how can the game in this country ensure the next cricketer possessing Steven’s assets finishes their career with an even more impressive record than that he produced?
If only sport and life were that easy.
Humans, thankfully, cannot be manufactured. We are not indestructible robots that can be programmed to cope with everything life throws at us. We can be strong, resilient and imperious, but most of us are fragile, vulnerable and imperfect. These is the principle reason why the ‘Greats’ of any sport do not come around very often.
Steven’s assets as a bowler were clear for everyone to see, especially when he was fully fit and full of confidence. In full flow Steven was a sight to behold; a thoroughbred, a match-winner, a bowler capable of doing things others couldn’t, and a competitor that could consistently challenge, trouble and dismiss the best batsmen in the world.
I was fortunate to watch Steven make a difference on a number of occasions, but I wasn’t in Worcester when he took 14-106 for Middlesex, including 9-37, in 2010; I wasn’t in Australia when he took 14 wickets in three Tests to help England win The Ashes on 2011/12, and, even though I selected him, I wasn’t at Edgbaston in 2015 when, with a brave and wonderfully defiant performance, he took 6-79 against the Aussies to once again help his country lift the urn.
I was, however, nervously watching at Lord’s in September 2016 when, at the end of a personally exhausting summer, he bowled himself to a standstill to help Middlesex win their first County Championship for 23 years. Toby Roland-Jones rightly gained most of the headlines when he finished the match with a hat-trick but Steven was the man keeping Yorkshire’s batters honest and under pressure at the other end.
Steven’s imperfections, thankfully, were not particularly visible to the outside world. Injury, for a fast bowler, is a rite of passage and in the latter part of his career his knees let him down. As an exceptional teenager – he started his First-Class career at the age of 16 – it was inexorable that he would have plenty of miles on the clock when less gifted bowlers of the same age were still running themselves in. And, sadly, it was these miles that eventually took their toll on his joints.
A large proportion of successful people have a bit of an edge to them. They show spite when things don’t go their way. Steven is no softie and during his career he showed huge bravery on a number of occasions. Huge reward and satisfaction can be gained from performing on the biggest of stages but humiliation and disappointment is never far away. So when you are kicked hard and broken – as Steven was when he was described as ‘Un-selectable’ by an England coach at the end of the 2014 Ashes – it takes enormous courage to pick yourself up off the floor and begin to put the pieces together again, all in the hope you may return to that same arena.
I may not have been in attendance for a number of Steven’s finest days but I was there during some of the dark times, which we can’t ignore. On numerous occasions I sat with, consoled and encouraged him in the bathroom area behind the home dressing room at Lord’s. The tears of frustration were twofold; 1) in his mind he was letting the team down and 2) he was not living up to everyone’s expectations.
Sport at the highest level is ruthless and uncompromising, and if you have any vulnerabilities the biggest stages will expose them. And it is this reality that made Steven’s return from the Ashes humiliation of 2014, to take 6-79 against Australia in Birmingham 18 months later, nothing short of miraculous.
Watching Steven produce this performance provided me with one of the most satisfying moments of my career in cricket and I was delighted in interviews this week that he praised the colossal role Richard Johnson played in his career. It was Johnson, when he was Middlesex bowling coach, who guided Steven as a youngster and it was Johnson who, piece by piece, masterfully put him back together on more than one occasion.
Steven isn’t as confrontational as many top sportsmen. Unlike James Anderson he doesn’t walk out on to a cricket field looking for a fight. He tended to take his frustration out on himself rather than the opposition and, because of this, I sometimes wonder whether he was perhaps too nice – too keen to please those around him and reluctant to say no.
It would be hypocritical for me to criticise Steven for this because I always used to say that a father would be very comfortable if their daughter came home with Steven on their arm. Finny is a lovely, lovely man. He is sensitive, caring and generous – if he can help you out he will – and, in the great scheme of things, these characteristics are far more important than the ability to take wickets.
Steven’s time at Middlesex did not end on the best of notes, which is sad, and I have to take some responsibility for that. Rejection is often very difficult to accept, especially when the separation involves people that are extremely close. Relationships are damaged and I hope, with time, ours will repair.
I know Steven’s parents, Diane and Terry, are, as they should be, incredibly proud of what their son has achieved as a cricketer, and they should be equally proud of the way he is as a man. They will miss their days sat quietly watching Steven play for Middlesex, Sussex or England, with a glass of wine in hand.
Yet all is not lost. Far from it. Yes, Diane and Terry may no longer be able to watch their son be part of the action but at least they will be able to listen to him describe the action. And hopefully, on many occasions, this will be at Lord’s and will involve Middlesex, two places where Steven and the Finn family will always be welcome.
Angus Fraser - Interim Chair, Middlesex Cricket
