Being Overtaken: Lessons from Cricket and Life

In sports, as in life, being overtaken is an inevitable but avoidable reckoning that spares few.

I've been preoccupied lately by a recurring thought, a feeling that keeps resurfacing. It's akin to encountering unexpected weather, or driving without using your mirrors and being oblivious to your surroundings. It's that sudden realisation that you're no longer in control or a jarring awakening from blissful ignorance. Or worse still, when your self-importance is off the charts, and your head is stuck where the sun doesn't shine.

In sports, as in life, being overtaken is an inevitable but avoidable reckoning that spares few.

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Before getting to my personal experience, I might try tabling some real-world examples:

I like Google. I've read three or four books on its early days. The against-the-odds story drew me in, as did the founders' characters, both similar yet diametrically opposite. The principle of building something to solve one particular problem is lost in most present-day start-ups. Yes, Google has changed dramatically, but the original idea blossomed, because 'search' was broken. They won, and big.

Fast-forward to now, and Google is vulnerable due to their size and incredible track record of innovation. Smaller competitors are picking them off, and some are mimicking what Google did initially, just better.

I would argue that 'search' turned the full circle, returning to its original position. Currently, it is almost impossible to avoid Google's algorithmic lean toward selling ads. I still use Google, just less frequently than I did. Perplexity now meets my wants, which is many times better at research than google. And I use Exa, which retrieves articles and relevant news without all the hard sell.

You can make a strong case that Google is losing in this space.

Credit: Ideogram

Tiger Woods' record will live eternally, but his golf game no longer holds up. I admire Woods' stoicism and refusal to believe he can no longer compete. Unfortunately, reality tells a different story.

Subjectively, Harry Brook the cricketer, is a better batsman than Jonny Bairstow. Try getting a Bairstow nod of approval on that!

Manners used to be observed and upheld. I'm writing this in a lunch cafe; at least three college-age kids sit with their feet up on an adjoining chair while older folk—like me—sit crammed around under-size tables. All three are oblivious, and worse, me included, no one has told them to put their open feet on the floor.

In my case, it is related to my time as a professional cricketer; it happened twice: first, at Lancashire CCC, and later, at Durham.

While drafting some parts of a ‘potential book’, the idea of 'being overtaken’ surfaced in a stanza relating to my own experience of a condition that, on further review, happens more than we know.

Here's a part of the rough draft:

"Just when I thought I was set, I wasn't. Historically, Lancashire made you wait for your chance; that was their thing, a calling card, a reputation upheld by the committee and participating senior players. Junior players knew no different; the 2nd XI was as strong as any in the country, and we won a championship—I think, but no one cared—it was double AA cricket, a farm system. I should say we had a lot of fun. "Good luck, you lads." These are the last words we heard before heading into battle. John Savage was one of the kindest, most thoughtful men I was lucky to meet. Motivator, though, not really. But this was our lot; you either waited for another season or hoped for an injury—which sounds terrible!

My chance came toward the end of the 1991 season; after making a first-class debut in 1986-87, I played sporadically, never doing enough to keep my name on the travel sheet. During 1991, three counties showed interest, Somerset being the most forthright. This is how naive we were back then—or, perhaps it was just me—without a manager to advise, I told Lancashire of the approach, and they promptly arranged a meeting with Peter Robinson of Somerset. My chaperone was Robert Bennett, the then Lancashire chairman. Haha, hilarious. Mr Bennett explained to Mr Robinson that I was on the cusp of extended 1st XI opportunities—never once did he look or talk to me in vision—and he added, "It would be unwise for Nick to start somewhere afresh." The two then talked about commercial conditions—Lancashire being the city powerhouse and Somerset the market town bumpkin. Honestly, I should have told Mr Bennett to tell his story elsewhere. Peter Robinson seemed abjectly apologetic. It was awful. The only thing worse was the four-hour drive back to 'Gold Trafford.

I did get those opportunities at the end of 1991 and cashed in on a flat Old Trafford wicket against an undermanned Surrey attack. I made 150 odd, and the farm was saved temporarily. My mate, ex-Lancashire player Tony Murphy, was playing for Surrey; Murph started me with a few halvies on leg-stump—or it might have been middle! What a constitution Murph had—I blamed him for everything."

So, the early to mid '90s saw my career grow. I was building a solid record and life seemed on track. However, complacency set in, and I failed to see what was coming. Two talented players emerged, both highly skilled with bright futures ahead. Suddenly, I found myself overtaken, losing my spot in the team. With over 7000 runs at an average of 40 in first-class cricket for Lancashire, I should have been grateful for my achievements. Instead, I was bitter. As the golf adage goes, "Don't get mad, get better." The lesson was clear: always be vigilant, read the room, and never assume your position is secure. Being overtaken can happen to anyone, especially when you're not paying attention.

Being overtaken is an inevitable part of life's journey, whether in sports, business, or personal growth. My experiences in cricket have taught me valuable lessons, none more relevant than success is brief, and complacency will be your greatest enemy. The key lies not in avoiding being overtaken—this is often beyond your control—it’s more how you respond.

In retrospect, I realise now that being superseded doesn't diminish your past achievements or the potential for future personal growth. It's more an opportunity to self-reflect, a chance to 'get better, not mad.'

For athletes in the twilight of their careers, for companies like Google facing new competitors, and for all of us navigating life's changes, the challenge is the same: to acknowledge our new reality with humility, to learn from experiences, and to find new ways to contribute and succeed.

In the end, being overtaken isn't just about losing your place; it's about discovering new paths, redefining success, and understanding that your worth isn't solely determined by your position in the race to the finish-line. It's a reminder that life, like sport, is not just about the destination, but the journey and how we choose to navigate it.

‘Don’t get mad, get better!