Every now again however, an exception to this rule arises. For a period, one player can so dominate proceedings that he comes to personify the team in the same way that the fortunes of Ian Botham became synonymous with those of England during the Ashes series of 1981 or Bradman's with Australia throughout his career.

Such it has been with Alan Boorman and Coton Cricket Club. For over 20 years the exploits of AB (as he is affectionately known) have been at the heart of a Club that has seen the heights of Senior League cricket, only to slide down the snake of successive relegations; to find salvation through new players and promotions; finally to arrive at its current stability.

So long did he play for Coton that his figures predated the records. All that can be said for certain is that after 1987 he scored 3,656 runs at an average of 33.9. He topped fifty on no less than 22 occasions - his top knock being a massive 145 against Histon in 1991. In the field he recorded 61 catches, some very special indeed, and taken 61 wickets, most of which were not.

With the bat, he excelled. Usually arriving at the crease at the fall of the third wicket and taking guard (nominally ‘two' but more usually somewhere between middle and off), his game could adapt as circumstances required. If standing upon a burning deck he would observe the bowling with exaggerated trepidation, his right foot searching for the middle of the pitch, his bat and pad virtually horizontal in studied defence. If the ship was on a more even keel, he would ensure progress was maintained though a series of sharply taken singles, interspersed with hefty, punched drives between point and extra cover.

But it was in the closing stages of an innings that Thumper (for such was his equally effective epithet) came into his own. If chasing extra runs at the end of the first innings or administering the coup de grâce at the close of the second, AB was, in the modern phrase, the ultimate ‘finisher'. Often taking advantage of bowlers' fatigue and/or inability, his signature was a spinning hook cum pull shot that fizzed over the boundary on a flat trajectory before the man himself could restore the equilibrium so disturbed by the effort. Nobody put away the rank leg side long hop better than Coton's veteran Clubber of Crap.

His contributions in the field were also significant. Consistently one of the side's best fielders, his favoured position was silly mid on or off from where he secured the demise of numerous startled batsman. Surprisingly nimble for a small man, he was blessed with sharp eyes and hands that enabled him to snaffle the sharpest of chances and a strong, accurate throw that few challenged a second time. A fair bowler, his loopy medium pacers could be relied upon for accuracy and guile, and provided a useful option to captains in the absence of either the form or presence of more exulted bowlers.

For a man who pursued victory with such dedicated élan, Alan embodied the notion that the fun was in the taking part. An eternal and vocal optimist in the field, arguably he captained the side in every game he played - to the relief or chagrin, depending on temperament, of the nominated official. His heartfelt and high pitched offers of sympathy to bowlers who had beaten his defence, ‘OOOOH!! WELL BOWLED!! - NEARLY!!' generated admiration and irritation, ‘OH F__K OFF!!!' in equal measure.

If it were possible, Alan's contribution to the side off the field was even greater. Not only did he regard the post match drinks and conversation with both sides as compulsory, but along with Sandra, he insisted that his whole family contribute somehow, (regardless of ability or inclination). He has earmarked his grandsons as a future opening batsman and wicket keeper respectively. A former Captain, Vice Captain, Treasurer and Secretary, in recent years he confined his formal duties to Chief Stoker and Burger Flipper at the Club's annual barbeque. He remains however a raconteur of note.

Now that the family has grown up, Sandra and Alan have decided that they can resist the siren call (and warmer climes) of France no longer. We can do no more than wish them well for truly they owe the Club nothing more. For Coton Cricket Club however, it means that the Boorman era has come to a close. Future years will be less AD - A nno Domini , than AB – A fter Boorman .