'Things were dark, but cricket was my release'

Regrets? He's had a few. But then again, fewer than you might expect him to mention.

"I had a lot of problems but I wouldn't swap what I did, because of the love of playing for Durham and England," says Steve Harmison, the former England fast bowler. "There were times when things were dark, but there was times when cricket was my release. I was a maverick, for want of a better word. I could win a game in a spell, or go at nine an over and lose it there and then."

Where Ashes series are concerned, this truism has been distilled into a handful of identifiable deliveries. The elbow clanger to Justin Langer and the cobra bite to Ricky Ponting's cheek at Lord's - early indications in that seismic summer of 2005 that Australia were about to face a challenge such as they had never before encountered.

One Test later, that slower ball to Michael Clarke and that desperate looping rib-tickler to Michael Kasprowicz at Edgbaston - moments recalled with freeze-frame clarity by a generation of England cricket fans, who had been taken to the brink and left there to dangle before that moment of sweet release.

And then, on the first morning of the Ashes rematch in 2006-07, at Brisbane's infamous "Gabbatoir" no less - that ball, that wide. That powder-puff, bio mechanic apology of a misfire that curled straight into the hands of Andrew Flintoff at second slip and signalled - symbolically at least - the surrender of the urn that England had worked themselves to a standstill to earn 18 months earlier.

"When we went to Australia in 2006-07, only four players turned up," Harmison says. "And of the three or four senior players who didn't turn up, I was probably top of the tree."

Looking back on that delivery, a little over a decade ago, it's hard now to recall quite how much of a passion-killer it really was. There were other deliveries in the course of England's 5-0 whitewash, and plenty other disappointments - mere mention of the word "Adelaide", for instance, cricket's own version of the "Scottish play", still brings fans of a certain disposition out in hives.

And yet, that first delivery stands the test of time - as symbolic a shortcoming as has ever been served up on such a grand stage. As James Alexander Gordon might have said to the massed ranks of England fans in the Gabba that morning, "if you don't want to know the result, look away now".

"It wasn't so much the first ball itself but the build-up," Harmison says now. "I needed a lot of bowling to get my rhythm going, but I felt my side go in our final warm-up game in Adelaide, so I took the precautionary option of not playing. So I didn't have 25 overs under my belt going into the Test. I felt good in practice, but then I got to the top of my mark "

Rewatching the footage of that fierce first morning, the main thing that strikes you is the noise. The tribal roar of a packed amphitheatre, tracking Harmison's every step to the wicket, followed by a slightly baffled change of key as Langer shapes to leave well alone, and a renewed outburst of derision as umpire Steve Bucknor spreads out his arms to signal the inevitable. Yes, it was just a solitary moment in time. But what a time, and what a message to relay to the most hostile audience in the sport.

"It's one of those things, as a big tall bowler, you only have to be a little bit out," Harmison says. "I was in no position to let go of the ball. Your front arm leads and your bowling arm follows. And I had no control. It came off my third finger and looped into Andrew's hand. If you freeze the action, you can see I'm losing my left side. I was trying far too hard to bowl too fast.

"It could have gone behind me. Did I freeze? Possibly. I just think I tried too hard."

'Things were dark, but cricket was my release'

Regrets? He's had a few. But then again, fewer than you might expect him to mention.

"I had a lot of problems but I wouldn't swap what I did, because of the love of playing for Durham and England," says Steve Harmison, the former England fast bowler. "There were times when things were dark, but there was times when cricket was my release. I was a maverick, for want of a better word. I could win a game in a spell, or go at nine an over and lose it there and then."

Where Ashes series are concerned, this truism has been distilled into a handful of identifiable deliveries. The elbow clanger to Justin Langer and the cobra bite to Ricky Ponting's cheek at Lord's - early indications in that seismic summer of 2005 that Australia were about to face a challenge such as they had never before encountered.

One Test later, that slower ball to Michael Clarke and that desperate looping rib-tickler to Michael Kasprowicz at Edgbaston - moments recalled with freeze-frame clarity by a generation of England cricket fans, who had been taken to the brink and left there to dangle before that moment of sweet release.

And then, on the first morning of the Ashes rematch in 2006-07, at Brisbane's infamous "Gabbatoir" no less - that ball, that wide. That powder-puff, bio mechanic apology of a misfire that curled straight into the hands of Andrew Flintoff at second slip and signalled - symbolically at least - the surrender of the urn that England had worked themselves to a standstill to earn 18 months earlier.

"When we went to Australia in 2006-07, only four players turned up," Harmison says. "And of the three or four senior players who didn't turn up, I was probably top of the tree."

Looking back on that delivery, a little over a decade ago, it's hard now to recall quite how much of a passion-killer it really was. There were other deliveries in the course of England's 5-0 whitewash, and plenty other disappointments - mere mention of the word "Adelaide", for instance, cricket's own version of the "Scottish play", still brings fans of a certain disposition out in hives.

And yet, that first delivery stands the test of time - as symbolic a shortcoming as has ever been served up on such a grand stage. As James Alexander Gordon might have said to the massed ranks of England fans in the Gabba that morning, "if you don't want to know the result, look away now".

"It wasn't so much the first ball itself but the build-up," Harmison says now. "I needed a lot of bowling to get my rhythm going, but I felt my side go in our final warm-up game in Adelaide, so I took the precautionary option of not playing. So I didn't have 25 overs under my belt going into the Test. I felt good in practice, but then I got to the top of my mark "

Rewatching the footage of that fierce first morning, the main thing that strikes you is the noise. The tribal roar of a packed amphitheatre, tracking Harmison's every step to the wicket, followed by a slightly baffled change of key as Langer shapes to leave well alone, and a renewed outburst of derision as umpire Steve Bucknor spreads out his arms to signal the inevitable. Yes, it was just a solitary moment in time. But what a time, and what a message to relay to the most hostile audience in the sport.

"It's one of those things, as a big tall bowler, you only have to be a little bit out," Harmison says. "I was in no position to let go of the ball. Your front arm leads and your bowling arm follows. And I had no control. It came off my third finger and looped into Andrew's hand. If you freeze the action, you can see I'm losing my left side. I was trying far too hard to bowl too fast.

"It could have gone behind me. Did I freeze? Possibly. I just think I tried too hard."

'If you beat Australia, they quickly turn like the crowd in Rocky IV'

Graeme Swann has fond memories of the one moment in his career when he was able to kick back from the struggle of winning and losing a Test match, and simply soak in the acclaim of a job well done.

The scene was Sydney, on the final morning of the 2010-11 tour, with the Ashes already in the bag. England had resumed needing just three wickets to wrap up their third innings victory of the series, and the SCG - bereft of home fans who had long since accepted the inevitable - had instead been transformed into an Anglican Cathedral of acclaim.

"The Barmy Army were incredible on that trip, I've never heard noise like it on that day at Sydney," says Swann, England's Ashes-winning spinner turned BT Sport pundit. "Paul Collingwood was sent down to field in front of the Barmy Army, rather than third slip. You'd never have the luxury normally, but Straussy [England captain, Andrew Strauss] said, 'it's your last day of Test cricket, get down there and enjoy it'."

If such a finale sounds improbably idyllic, then it is only fair to point out that that 2010-11 tour was the exception that proved the rule of England's Ashes tours. That triumph sits sandwiched between 5-0 whitewashes on the 2006-07 and 2013-14 trips, while just three of England's current tourists (James Anderson, Alastair Cook and Stuart Broad) had even been born at the time of their previous victorious campaign - Mike Gatting's 2-1 win in 1986-87.

"A lot of the time on my two tours of Australia, the Barmy Army were the only smiles we got in the day," says ESPN's Mark Butcher, who was twice defeated on tours Down Under in 1998-99 and 2002-03. "Come hell or high water, rain or shine, they were supporting a team that was invariably getting a hiding, so they played a huge part in keeping us going when we were out in the middle, and runs were being racked up left, right and centre."

Instead, the more familiar refrain on England's Ashes tours has been the sound of Aussie crowing - in the venues, around the cities, and even at the airports, where immigrations officials have rarely been backwards in coming forwards to "welcome" their Pommie guests. It all adds up to a pervasive sense of hostility that can only serve to unsettle the unwary tourist.

'If you beat Australia, they quickly turn like the crowd in Rocky IV'

Graeme Swann has fond memories of the one moment in his career when he was able to kick back from the struggle of winning and losing a Test match, and simply soak in the acclaim of a job well done.

The scene was Sydney, on the final morning of the 2010-11 tour, with the Ashes already in the bag. England had resumed needing just three wickets to wrap up their third innings victory of the series, and the SCG - bereft of home fans who had long since accepted the inevitable - had instead been transformed into an Anglican Cathedral of acclaim.

"The Barmy Army were incredible on that trip, I've never heard noise like it on that day at Sydney," says Swann, England's Ashes-winning spinner turned BT Sport pundit. "Paul Collingwood was sent down to field in front of the Barmy Army, rather than third slip. You'd never have the luxury normally, but Straussy [England captain, Andrew Strauss] said, 'it's your last day of Test cricket, get down there and enjoy it'."

If such a finale sounds improbably idyllic, then it is only fair to point out that that 2010-11 tour was the exception that proved the rule of England's Ashes tours. That triumph sits sandwiched between 5-0 whitewashes on the 2006-07 and 2013-14 trips, while just three of England's current tourists (James Anderson, Alastair Cook and Stuart Broad) had even been born at the time of their previous victorious campaign - Mike Gatting's 2-1 win in 1986-87.

"A lot of the time on my two tours of Australia, the Barmy Army were the only smiles we got in the day," says ESPN's Mark Butcher, who was twice defeated on tours Down Under in 1998-99 and 2002-03. "Come hell or high water, rain or shine, they were supporting a team that was invariably getting a hiding, so they played a huge part in keeping us going when we were out in the middle, and runs were being racked up left, right and centre."

Instead, the more familiar refrain on England's Ashes tours has been the sound of Aussie crowing - in the venues, around the cities, and even at the airports, where immigrations officials have rarely been backwards in coming forwards to "welcome" their Pommie guests. It all adds up to a pervasive sense of hostility that can only serve to unsettle the unwary tourist.

Friendship, understanding Mumbai's strength - Tendulkar

It was an evening to celebrate Mumbai cricket, more specifically the team's 500th Ranji Trophy game that will begin on Thursday against Baroda. At a function organised by the Mumbai Cricket Association at the Bandra-Kurla Complex ground, Sachin Tendulkar dipped into the mellow glow of nostalgia as he recalled some of his finest moments with the Mumbai team.

First outing with the team

We knew exactly what we wanted to be because when we were playing Under-15, Under-17, we used to watch national players practicing and Ranji Trophy cricketers practicing alongside them. I was selected at the age of 14 to go to Baroda. We travelled by train. My room partner was Suru Nayak, so he was appropriately selected for me to make sure I sleep on time and all that sort of things. As time went by, I grew up. All in all, the experience was overwhelming and as the time went by with all these greats of Indian cricket, I started feeling at home. I didn't play a single game that year, but I spent time in the dressing room. That made me feel I belonged in Mumbai cricket.

Maiden first-class season

The north stand was vocal as usual [with] my friends [sitting there]. I would like to thank Kiran Mokashi and Suru Nayak. Whenever the nets were over, they would take me out and ask me to pad up and set fields - silly point, slip, and all possible attacking fields. There were occasions that they would request that Raju Kulkarni and other fast bowlers to come and bowl at me. Without fail, Mokashi and Suru would come and work on my technique. That would give me so much confidence. They would tell me 'you would need to survive ten minutes', but the ten minutes would never get over. I would look up and see that the time was past 5, but they would continue bowling to me. That's why I was well prepared when I played my first game - I was only 15 then. There were guys at the non-striker's end. Alan [Sippy] was there, Lalu [Lalchand Rajput] was also there. All these guys gave me confidence.

Leading the side to a title in 1994-95 after a dry spell

Our practice methods, I thought, were good, but they could be bettered. I am of this belief that results invariably follow your preparation, so I focused more on preparations. I remember Arjun was there, the groundsman. There were a lot of groundsmen with whom I would regularly be in touch with me and I would tell them not to cover the wicket. The bowlers should make our life uncomfortable. Salil [Ankola] was there, Abey [Kuruvilla], Paras [Mhambrey], Manish Patel, so the fast-bowling attack was formidable, possibly the best in India. I would tell them 'make our lives as miserable as you want and fire away bouncers at will.' I was mentally strong, I felt, and growing up I was told by [Ramakant] Achrekar sir that catches would win you matches. We would take catches every day. We also had that unwritten rule that batsmen should bowl and vice-versa. I enjoyed bowling. Throughout the practice, there was great intensity and we were also great friends. The friendship reflected on the field. When there were difficult times, we had understanding. That was our strength.

Favourite Ranji game

It has to be the semi-finals against Tamil Nadu [in 1999-2000]. I think we were chasing 485 [chasing 486 for the first-innings lead] and Ashok Mankad was our coach. He kept everyone involved. He had a peculiar way of motivating everyone. He would call Vinod [Kambli]'sir'. That was his way of motivating them. A lot of things happened during that game. At one moment, the ball stopped swinging and Robin Singh kept giving it to the umpires and asked for it to be changed. Finally it got changed and the ball started reversing. I stood two feet outside the crease and I knew some message would go across. Hemang Badani told the bowler 'munnadi' [front, in Tamil] and next ball I stood two feet inside the crease. Whatever he kept telling the bowler something, I would change [my position]. Whenever he said munnadi, I would go back and vice-versa. Post-match, I told him, 'by the way, I understand Tamil'. The match was quite evenly poised at one stage, but not just saving wickets but also scoring runs was critical. I think I was batting with Ramesh Powar. Having practiced with him - this is the beauty of practising together - I knew he always liked hitting the ball. The last man was there, Santosh Saxena, and the first ball was a full toss that struck his pads. I said from the non-striker's end 'not out' and the umpire gave not out. It was a coincidence and nothing more lest the papers say something tomorrow (laughs). There were still about 165 overs to go in the game. As we know Wankhede's wicket, on the fourth and fifth day the games start moving fast. Ajit [Agarkar] and other bowlers bowled brilliantly and won us the game.

Friendship, understanding Mumbai's strength - Tendulkar

It was an evening to celebrate Mumbai cricket, more specifically the team's 500th Ranji Trophy game that will begin on Thursday against Baroda. At a function organised by the Mumbai Cricket Association at the Bandra-Kurla Complex ground, Sachin Tendulkar dipped into the mellow glow of nostalgia as he recalled some of his finest moments with the Mumbai team.

First outing with the team

We knew exactly what we wanted to be because when we were playing Under-15, Under-17, we used to watch national players practicing and Ranji Trophy cricketers practicing alongside them. I was selected at the age of 14 to go to Baroda. We travelled by train. My room partner was Suru Nayak, so he was appropriately selected for me to make sure I sleep on time and all that sort of things. As time went by, I grew up. All in all, the experience was overwhelming and as the time went by with all these greats of Indian cricket, I started feeling at home. I didn't play a single game that year, but I spent time in the dressing room. That made me feel I belonged in Mumbai cricket.

Maiden first-class season

The north stand was vocal as usual [with] my friends [sitting there]. I would like to thank Kiran Mokashi and Suru Nayak. Whenever the nets were over, they would take me out and ask me to pad up and set fields - silly point, slip, and all possible attacking fields. There were occasions that they would request that Raju Kulkarni and other fast bowlers to come and bowl at me. Without fail, Mokashi and Suru would come and work on my technique. That would give me so much confidence. They would tell me 'you would need to survive ten minutes', but the ten minutes would never get over. I would look up and see that the time was past 5, but they would continue bowling to me. That's why I was well prepared when I played my first game - I was only 15 then. There were guys at the non-striker's end. Alan [Sippy] was there, Lalu [Lalchand Rajput] was also there. All these guys gave me confidence.

Leading the side to a title in 1994-95 after a dry spell

Our practice methods, I thought, were good, but they could be bettered. I am of this belief that results invariably follow your preparation, so I focused more on preparations. I remember Arjun was there, the groundsman. There were a lot of groundsmen with whom I would regularly be in touch with me and I would tell them not to cover the wicket. The bowlers should make our life uncomfortable. Salil [Ankola] was there, Abey [Kuruvilla], Paras [Mhambrey], Manish Patel, so the fast-bowling attack was formidable, possibly the best in India. I would tell them 'make our lives as miserable as you want and fire away bouncers at will.' I was mentally strong, I felt, and growing up I was told by [Ramakant] Achrekar sir that catches would win you matches. We would take catches every day. We also had that unwritten rule that batsmen should bowl and vice-versa. I enjoyed bowling. Throughout the practice, there was great intensity and we were also great friends. The friendship reflected on the field. When there were difficult times, we had understanding. That was our strength.

Favourite Ranji game

It has to be the semi-finals against Tamil Nadu [in 1999-2000]. I think we were chasing 485 [chasing 486 for the first-innings lead] and Ashok Mankad was our coach. He kept everyone involved. He had a peculiar way of motivating everyone. He would call Vinod [Kambli]'sir'. That was his way of motivating them. A lot of things happened during that game. At one moment, the ball stopped swinging and Robin Singh kept giving it to the umpires and asked for it to be changed. Finally it got changed and the ball started reversing. I stood two feet outside the crease and I knew some message would go across. Hemang Badani told the bowler 'munnadi' [front, in Tamil] and next ball I stood two feet inside the crease. Whatever he kept telling the bowler something, I would change [my position]. Whenever he said munnadi, I would go back and vice-versa. Post-match, I told him, 'by the way, I understand Tamil'. The match was quite evenly poised at one stage, but not just saving wickets but also scoring runs was critical. I think I was batting with Ramesh Powar. Having practiced with him - this is the beauty of practising together - I knew he always liked hitting the ball. The last man was there, Santosh Saxena, and the first ball was a full toss that struck his pads. I said from the non-striker's end 'not out' and the umpire gave not out. It was a coincidence and nothing more lest the papers say something tomorrow (laughs). There were still about 165 overs to go in the game. As we know Wankhede's wicket, on the fourth and fifth day the games start moving fast. Ajit [Agarkar] and other bowlers bowled brilliantly and won us the game.