There comes a time on every tour that the visitors just want to go home. It is visible not only in the skill set slowing down to the pace of a Sunday sitcom, but in the body language screaming: “We feel like we are in Durham on an April morning.”
Cricket autobiographies flit between bland and interesting. Those written by current cricketers often err with the former, while their retired counterparts succeed with the latter. AB de Villiers’ memoirs fall satisfyingly in the middle.
Ambrose, dominant as a player but despondent as an observer, consistently rues the decline of West Indian cricket, but punctuates the disappointment with predictions of a return to the top in 15 years.
For Boucher, his life and outlook changed when that bail struck his eye in Taunton in 2012, just three matches away from his 150th Test and retirement. His 'bubble' was broken and the real world flooded in.