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Testimonials

Graeme Fowler

“If I knew then what I know now”. That is probably the most stupid phrase anyone can ever say. At the time we all make decisions based on the current facts, our personal information and experience. No one ,in my experience makes a bad decision on purpose.
However, looking back is not always a pointless exercise. Memories are one of our most precious gifts that we carry with us. Often, in a senior moment I find myself completely absorbed in my own little world in a previous decade. More…

Peter Moores

The first time I saw the real talent of RMJ was from the non strikers end as he proceeded to deposit Anil Kumble into the deck chairs for a quite enormous six. What made the shot even more remarkable was that he did it from the crease with what appeared effortless ease. The game was Sussex v Northants in 1995 when RMJ was still at university and just breaking into the game. At the time I didn’t realise that RMJ was going to have such an impact on his native County but I did realise he had a rare talent for hitting a cricket ball. Robin went on to make his first fifty for Sussex that day and as he now has close to six thousand runs and three hundred wickets and has been a key player in Sussex’s rise over the last decade.More…

Andrew Strauss

My first memory of “Tucker” came shortly after I arrived at Radley College as an awkward, spotty and totally overawed 13 year old. Everywhere I looked, I saw fully grown adolescent men, whose voices had broken, who were intimidating beyond imagination to someone who looked closer to 11 than a teenager.
In those first days of school, you had to sink or swim on your own. The older pupils tended to only talk to the new boys when they needed something doing, so it was not surprising that I was just beginning to run for cover when this giant beanpole from the year above approached me. “Hello there, I’m Robin, How have your first few weeks been? I hear you play cricket.” I was flabbergasted that he was actually trying to make conversation with me, and that he was actually being kind of nice.More…

Jonathan Agnew

I feel as if I have followed every inch of Robin’s path through professional cricket. This is not necessarily due to having sat for many hours in the sun in one of Hove’s inviting deck chairs, or anywhere else for that matter: I reckon I have only seen Robin in action a handful of times. No, there has been no need for that because throughout Robin’s career, I have been sharing a commentary box with his Dad, Christopher.
Regular listeners to Test Match Special will be all too aware of a certain haplessness that dogs CMJ’s attempts at anything technical. This extends, even, to operating teletext which, thankfully, after years of muttering and stamping feet at back of the box, Christopher has finally mastered. He can now pull up the latest Sussex score on Ceefax while commentating at Lord’s at the same time! No mean feat.
And there it will stay all day, on its own separate screen, accompanied either by sighs of satisfaction or a short burst of noisy disapproval if Robin has had his stumps splattered.
Robin has been very close to playing for England: we all know that. I am sure the chairman of selectors of the time, David Graveney, will not mind me repeating a quick conversation between us in a hotel toilet four or five years ago when, making small talk as one does in that situation, he confirmed that Robin was very much on their short list for selection for one day cricket.
It would have been wonderful for Christopher if that dream had come true - but I am not really sure if the rest of us could have stood it. We experienced a taste of what life might have been like in the C&G Final of 2006 - a tremendous game at Lord's between Sussex and Lancashire in which Robin suddenly found himself batting with the game on a knife’s edge. I was commentating when Glenn Chapple, and most of Lancashire, appealed for a catch behind. I was pretty sure at the time the ball had flicked the pad and not the bat, but, sadly, the umpire raised his finger and Robin was despatched.
There was something of an edge to the atmosphere in the box as we awaited the replay - I was already feeling rather awkward having to describe the downfall if a good friend’s son in a Lord’s Final - and sure enough the picture confirmed what we had suspected. CMJ appeared to take it rather well for about ten seconds, when there was a tremendous crashing sound behind me. I turned just in time to see a tall and solidly built stool - apparently the victim of an unprovoked and frenzied Basil Fawlty-like attack - falling heavily to the ground.
Well done Robin, and congratulations on a superb career. I am sure your Dad tells you often himself, but I can assure you anyway that he is mighty proud of you.
AGGERS
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