Graham Thorpe was always his own man and never shied away from a challenge | Cricket

I was first introduced to Graham Thorpe during a match where Surrey under-12s faced Middlesex under-12s. He opened the bowling and came in to bat at No 8 that day. Being just a month older than me, we progressed through the ranks of youth cricket together, growing up side by side. Our mutual passion for football was evident, with Graham being a devoted Chelsea supporter and an exceptionally talented footballer, far surpassing my own skills.

Our careers paralleled one another; I made my England Test debut in 1991, followed a couple of years later by Graham. In the early 90s, alongside Nasser Hussain, we were recognized as the emerging talents of our time. Graham developed into an outstanding player adept against both top-notch pace and spin. He particularly excelled off the back foot with his impressive cut and pull shots.

I was fortunate to share the field with him on the England team, and batting with him was perhaps my favorite experience. We were close in age, which made it easy to connect with him. His dry sense of humor shone through on the field, and he was a delight to partner with at the crease—focused yet relaxed, and an exceptional runner between wickets.

Test cricket in the 1990s boasted a wealth of talent. The West Indies remained formidable, alongside the rise of Shane Warne and a dominant Australian team, the resurgence of South Africa, and the likes of Waqar Younis, Wasim Akram, and Saqlain Mushtaq in Pakistan, as well as Muttiah Muralitharan from Sri Lanka—it was an extraordinary period, and Graham consistently scored runs against them all. He flourished in challenging conditions and when facing the highest caliber of opponents. His Test record is a testament to that.

Graham was always true to himself. He often arrived at team events wearing mismatched trousers or with his cap on backward. At that time, there was a dress code, but Graham preferred to express his individuality. This trait was significant in his character; he operated according to his own principles, which ultimately benefited the team.

The England team of the 1990s was often in flux, and the environments contrasted drastically with what we see today. You could never be sure if you would see the same teammates at the next Test. I admired how Graham and Alec Stewart approached their role for England as they did for their counties. They were aggressive; if they spotted a ball to hit, they committed to the shot. Although this might seem standard now, back then, with nine national newspapers alongside Sky’s commentary eagerly anticipating a batsman getting dismissed by a poor shot, the pressure was immense. Yet, Graham never held back and played his natural game, which I greatly respected.

He faced significant challenges off the field, which had a massive impact on him. As a father myself, I can’t fathom the difficulties he endured. He encountered hardships both in and out of the game during an era when support and understanding were significantly lacking.

He made a remarkable return to the England squad during a new chapter in the game, relishing his role as a seasoned player. I believe this new era truly inspired him.

Many of us were taken aback by how adept he was at coaching after his retirement. Numerous exceptional players struggle to communicate their thoughts or form meaningful relationships with teammates—showing empathy for the pressures they face while still being able to challenge them when necessary. Graham embodied all these qualities as a coach, garnering immense respect and popularity. He was also innovative, leveraging his own experiences; he recognized that to excel at the international level, players needed attacking options off the back foot and the ability to handle spin bowling.

His passing is heartbreaking and came far too early. I find some comfort in the many joyful memories and experiences we shared. It’s hard to believe that we started our journeys together and now he is gone.

Regarding his legacy, it transcends beyond just being a player; it embodies the essence of the person he was. He understood the challenges life and cricket could present, making him relatable to everyone.