Given an opportunity to comment on the airwaves, Sir Geoffrey Boycott would have been less than effusive in his assessment of England's performance during the recent Ashes tour. But one of international cricket's most authoritative voices has been silent all winter as the former opening batsman toughs it out against a silent and merciless adversary he has never before encountered.
He knows he is fighting for his life and has said so publicly. He also admits that he has been left feeling weak and sometimes miserable as he undergoes the radiotherapy and chemotherapy that doctors have prescribed. Yet, there is hope, even though he has lost two stone in weight and must take all nourishment through a tube because it is far too painful even to swallow water.
Boycott had his moment of truth last September when he went to see his doctor about a persistent dry cough and discovered that he had three secondary cancers in his neck. Further tests found he had a primary tumour at the base of his tongue.
Only a month before his 62nd birthday, he cancelled plans to travel to Australia to cover England's Ashes tour for TalkSport radio and instead embarked on a course of cancer treatment that he described as "torture".
"Life has not been the same since September 3, when I was diagnosed with three secondary cancerous tumours on the left side of my neck," he told one of his admirers.
"Having already had one removed for a biopsy, I then had to start chasing around to find the best information and the best medical people for the job. Further tests and biopsies showed the primary tumour to be at the base of my tongue on the lefthand side. Initially, it was thought I could have the 'best option', which was to remove it surgically followed by four weeks' radiation. Having prepared myself for an eight-hour operation, which involved breaking my jaw, and worse, not being able to talk for two weeks, a couple of days before the operation I was told the tumour was too near my voice box."
One point in Boycott's favour has been his lifelong abhorrence of smoking and the absence of any drinking habit.
"It was decided, as I have never smoked or drunk much alcohol, the chances of success were nearly as good if I had three sessions of chemotherapy as an inpatient, something similar to mustard gas continually being pumped into your veins followed by the highest and most aggressive doses of radiation involving 35 daily sessions five days a week for seven weeks as an outpatient," he explained in a recent interview.
Treatment has been underway at a nearby hospital in Leeds in the north of England, but Boycott says the real tonic has been the care he has received from his partner Rachael, who is also the mother of their daughter Emma.
"As it was deemed essential that such long treatment needed the backup of home, and it certainly turned out so, we were told Rachael should 'gently persuade' me to eat, drink and keep me going. Rachael did better than that. She donned her top hat and tails and whipped me to eat and drink.
"She reminded me to take my pills, still changes my dressings, gives me painkillers and feeds me down the tube. Most of all she is there to keep my spirits up. I don't know what I would have done without her. It has certainly not been pleasant, with numerous side effects from the treatment, not the cancer."
Like other cancer sufferers, Boycott has been demoralised by the side effects of the treatment he has been receiving. "Chemo caused tiredness, wiped out my immune system, and [caused] loss of appetite," he said last week. "With radiation, I have had no taste buds for about five weeks, allowing Rach [Rachael] to put a ton of fruit sugar even in my
soups, she now tells me."
He also talked of a "gradual creeping of discomfort week by week", until he was unable to take solid food.
"Food going from normal to mashed, puree to soup, porridge or rice pudding only. Then complete liquid food only, by straw. Finally, when the pain of swallowing even water got so bad, and I had lost 10 lb in a week, and after 31 of my 35 radiation sessions, a feeding tube -- bright yellow, would you believe, not clear or flesh coloured -- was inserted through my nose and into my stomach, operated by a pump."
Somehow, despite the pain, he has managed to preserve his sense of humour: "I am told, because of the tape holding it in place on the end of my nose, I have a strong resemblance to Michael Jackson. Thank God that's only temporary."
He says radiotherapy has been just as difficult to endure as the chemotherapy. "For radiation treatment, a clear plastic mask is moulded to fit my face and goes down my upper chest, and whilst lying on a table, which is bolted down so you cannot move, as it is important that the rays only go where directed.
"The radiated skin is all burnt off in various degrees and places behind my ears, cheeks, on my neck and collar bones. Some of the skin has just started to heal now [that] I have finished.
"The only good news about this, Rach tells me, is some people pay a fortune to have such a 'face peel', so I've got that free! It's still bloody painful."
Boycott is hopeful because he has been told the secondary lumps have disappeared and there will be further tests this month to see what, if any, further treatment is required.
"It is now a period of rest, to allow my body to recuperate from the treatment, to build up both my strength and weight once the pain subsides and I can start eating again and dispense with my 'Plastic Yellow Friend'."
During his career Sir Geoffrey captained both Yorkshire and England, earning 108 caps for the national team and scoring more than 8,000 Test runs, including 22 centuries. He retired from the sport in 1985. His many fans both in England and abroad, especially in India, are willing him to fight on with the same spirit he displayed so often at the crease.
