Derek Underwood once described himself as a “low-mentality bowler”. It was a typically self-effacing remark from England’s most prolific spinner in Test cricket (with 297 victims). Underwood was a hero from another age but you would never have guessed so when wandering into the bar after playing against Kent. He would be there with a beer in one hand and a fag in the other and that self-deprecating smile on his lips. He would happily talk cricket – and spin bowling – often seeking the opinion of others as if they knew better than him (which was ridiculous). Here was the antithesis of the international superstar sportsman until, with his feet splayed at 1o to two, he set off on his run-up.
That reference to his “low mentality” partially explains his success. Underwood was, in fact, a free thinker. It was natural for him to bowl quicker than his peers but crucially he had the nous not to change his style. Generally he shunned the fancy variations that the armchair pundits and a few old coaches craved. Instead the human metronome trundled up to the crease and landed the ball on a length around off-stump at his pace time and time again. And so the strangulation process began.
