NICK FRIEND: In the last two years, the Jamaican left-armer has become one of the game's most recognisable figures, complete with a trademark celebration. But there is far more to Cottrell than a salute; behind it, there lies a remarkable journey
“There’s a saying that old soldiers never die, they fade away. I understand that because it’s always in me, it’s always with me, it’s something that never leaves you.”
Sheldon Cottrell laughs a lot; he gives over Zoom the same energy to which the watching world has become accustomed. When he speaks about duty, though, his demeanour shifts slightly. Instead, he opts for respect, humility, contemplation.
He is every bit as engaging as you might expect: the soldier who became an international cricketer; the trademark celebration that left a legacy as one of the images of last year’s World Cup; the 30-year-old seamer sold for over $1m at the end of a three-way bidding war in the crux of an Indian Premier League auction.
It is less than a decade ago that Cottrell, as a member of the Jamaica Defence Force, was among the army personnel manning the perimeter of the Sabina Park pitch during an ODI against India.
This isn’t where this chat begins, but it is where it soon travels. To understand the success of Sheldon Cottrell as a West Indies fast bowler is to understand the graft of Sheldon Cottrell as a servant of his country.
“For me, playing for West Indies – to achieve my goal, my dream – that discipline was already instilled in me,” he smiles. “It was easy for me to bring it over to cricket and do what I had to do.”
We are speaking primarily on the back of the Caribbean Premier League draft, which took place last week, and because there is a Test series going on back in England. It was 2014 when Cottrell last played the game’s longest format – one of two Test appearances, but he has been at the epicentre of his St Kitts & Nevis Patriots franchise since signing up in 2015.
I ask who excites him most of those who have joined his side ahead of this year’s competition, which will take place exclusively in Trinidad and Tobago amid the coronavirus pandemic. He is spoilt for choice; among the new recruits are Chris Lynn, Ben Dunk, Rassie van der Dussen and Joshua da Silva.
But it is another, a less heralded name to which Cottrell points. “I would say he’s a youngster but he’s not that young,” he says. “Dennis Bulli, he’s from the Jamaica Defence Force like myself; I can’t wait to see him on the big stage.”
Bulli, a left-arm wrist-spinner, is three years Cottrell’s senior – hardly a spring chicken but the pair of close friends are intrinsically linked by the path taken: they have made the same sacrifices, served the same country and landed on their feet in the same sport and now at the same team. “I’m really excited and very much proud for him as a person,” Cottrell beams. “To see him work, work and work, I can tell you one thing – he works hard.”
From here, it becomes the crux of our conversation. He touches briefly on Jason Holder – “he could easily be a commentator after cricket or do anything he wants to do; he has a good brain,” but for the most part the focus is on a rare, admirable journey. “It was an honour to serve my country,” he states.
And the more he talks, the easier it becomes to get to the core of a high-octane, emotional on-field exuberance.
“Growing up playing cricket in Jamaica can be a struggle, to tell you the truth,” he says. “That’s the reason why any cricketer who achieves their dream by playing for West Indies, they are very passionate about their game.
“Once you’re not playing cricket professionally in the Caribbean, there’s not much money in it. Cricket gear is very expensive. For someone whose parents don’t have the money to be spending on them for cricket and they’re not getting any returns or anything like that, it’s hard.
“For me, most people don’t know this, but I started out bowling in converses – they called them All Stars in Jamaica. I was bowling really quick but every time I landed, I’d always slide. I was playing a school game and we were playing a team called Jamaica College. The coach brought us some spikes. I was so happy – my first spikes. I strapped up, ready to go, but the first delivery I bowled was at my toe – super-short. The second one I bowled went straight to the keeper without a bounce. After the second ball, I signalled to the dressing room to bring back my All Stars.
“I say that to say that there have been a lot of good cricketers in Jamaica and the Caribbean. But cricket is a very expensive sport if you’re just starting out and wanting the best things. It’s very difficult. For someone to come up and achieve what they want to achieve out of cricket, you have to applaud that person.”
Cottrell was retained by St Kitts & Nevis Patriots in this year's CPL draft
It is a story he hopes can inspire the youngsters of today, but also why he is so grateful to have experienced life as a soldier, the foundation of his best traits.
Out of high school, he told his mother - who raised him on her own - that he was determined to work and for stability, narrowing down his options to the police or army. For 11 years, the Jamaica Defence Force – alongside his cricket – was all he knew. “I will forever remember September 16,” he admitted last year in an emotional, teary-eyed video on his official website, as he announced his departure, adding: “I can’t believe I’m saying this.”
Reflecting now, could he envisage himself as an elite athlete without first having come through an alternative world full of order and regiment?
“I can imagine myself without that JDF discipline,” he chuckles. “I wouldn’t be playing cricket.
“If it wasn’t for the mental discipline that was instilled in me, I would have quit cricket back in 2015. Honestly speaking, I was literally left on my own with a knee as big as a pumpkin.
“If it wasn’t for the Jamaica Defence Force and the discipline that I got there and the fight, I think I would have stopped.
“I grew up with my mum, so I’m a disciplined person. But being in the JDF helped me to be even more disciplined – physically disciplined and mentally disciplined.”
This interview might have happened last year; ahead of the 2019 CPL and on the back of 12 World Cup wickets, Cottrell responded to a request back in August, admitting: “I avoid interviews but I’m told I shouldn’t.”
This time around, it acts as an amusing icebreaker. Why now but not then? Does he enjoy telling his story? And what about the mindset shift in moving from a selfless career path without thought of adulation to one so explicitly spotlighted in the public eye?
“Whenever I say something, I’m a very passionate person in everything I do,” he reflects. “Everyone who knows me knows that. If I’m doing something that is significant, where my life is answering, I’m going to be passionate. I saw that interview with Mikey Holding the other day when he talked. You saw how passionate he was. I’m that type of person.
“Sometimes, when I explain myself, I don’t say anything because I know that I can get very passionate. But where interviews are concerned and when it comes to my journey, I will tell my story. But the difference is that I have a lot of parts in my journey. Each time, something will pop out and I’ll just say it.
“My journey has been amazing, I must say. If I could go back and change anything, I wouldn’t change. I wouldn’t change a thing. It has been so amazing. From the Jamaica Defence Force, working seven days a week, 24 hours a day in the streets, to playing cricket for Jamaica.”
He admits, too, that there was once a time when he felt some guilt at leaving one to concentrate on the other. “It’s the first time anyone has asked me this question,” he says. “There has been a lot, especially seeing all the crime going on in the country. At times, I felt like going back.”
But gradually, those thoughts have faded. “I can safely say now that I’m a professional cricketer,” he adds. “I’m just looking forward to working on my game.”
The game he speaks of has become an increasingly recognisable weapon since the start of 2019: the leap of a long-jumper at the crease followed by an almighty windmill and a stock trade that centres around swinging the white ball prodigiously back into the toes of right-handed batsmen. Few have mastered the art at his pace.
One delivery from last year’s World Cup sticks out – a rasping yorker that did for Martin Guptill. Another moment was an extraordinary one-handed catch to dismiss Steve Smith, plucked with an outrageous nonchalance as he tiptoed aside the boundary rope.
At the beginning of 2019, much of this felt some way off: Cottrell had spent the previous Bangladesh Premier League on the bench, before missing out at first on West Indies’ squad for a series against England.
It was only when Keemo Paul was ruled out through injury that the call belatedly came. A five-wicket haul followed in his first ODI for eight months and the rest, as they say, is history. In the four years previous, he had played six ODIs; since his breakthrough outing, 29 have followed in little over a year.
Cottrell's celebration has become a standard sight on the international circuit
It brings Cottrell to the subject about which he is asked most often. His salute celebration has become a regular feature of the international circuit; he unfurls it without fail after every wicket, designed as a tribute to soldiers all over the world – “I know what it feels like to be away from your family for months, it’s just to show my appreciation to those guys,” he said in an interview with Windies Cricket in May.
But last summer, it was a calling card wherever he went, with children copying the gesture. Its popularity, naturally, has come as some surprise; for a born entertainer, it has been a happy accident. He tweeted in May, sharing a video of a young girl mimicking the celebration. “I’m the luckiest man in the world to have kids do this,” he wrote.
He recalls first performing it during a difficult personal period, when he was at a far lower ebb in his life and, perhaps, when its symbolic significance was greater. “But I know that I’m not the first and I won’t be the last to go through a lot,” he counters, smiling.
“The first time I saluted, it was a lot more passionate than the other salutes. I knew that it was for all the men and women working in the Jamaica Defence Force.
“I have the utmost respect for the JDF; I will never say anything bad about them. They were the stepping stone; they were the platform for my career. They made me the man who I am today.”
There were challenges, of course. He talks of the country’s rising crime rate and describes the role as “overworked and underpaid”, while having to cope, at times, with chaotic orders from above.
But as is a common theme in Cottrell’s outlook on his existence, there are no regrets. “One thing I would say is that they allowed time for cricket, they allowed time for us to do our sport,” he adds.
“I’ve been counted out so many times. When I was out of cricket, I said to myself: ‘Once I’m back in, I’m going to make sure I’m in. I’m not going to have one foot in and one foot out. I’m going to do my best. I’m going to give it my all. I’m going to lay it all out here. I’m not going to hold back anything. No matter the type of cricket I’m playing, I’m going to leave it all out there on the field.’
“I think that’s one of the things that even the fans saw. I’m the type of guy that’s going to give it 120 per cent, even when there’s nothing in the game. In my mindset, it only takes ten deliveries to bowl out a team. I’m serious. Even if a team needs three runs in ten overs, my mindset is that it will only take me ten deliveries.”
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His attitude comes from his journey – a winding, unlikely road to where he is now. “The determination and belief,” he muses before tailing off.
“From where I’ve come from to where I am now, looking back at it, I’m like: ‘Wow.’ I don’t want to go back there – I want to keep going forward, I want to keep building, I want to keep gaining knowledge about things in life as a man.”
By now, Cottrell should have played in his first IPL. In any other year than this, it would almost now be ancient history, given the fast-moving short-termism of the franchise universe.
He was due to represent Kings XI Punjab, who forked out almost £900,000 on him back in December. There were whispers – in the price tag, at least – of recency bias, the idea that a fine World Cup followed by wickets against India in an ODI series ahead of the auction had played a part in the extent of interest around his name.
But when push came to shove, Punjab, Rajasthan Royals and Delhi Capitals fought each other, with the left-armer finishing as the event’s second-most expensive bowler, after Pat Cummins.
Only, Cottrell couldn’t watch. He had been fine, sitting with West Indies batsman Evin Lewis in a hotel room as the action unfolded. And then his name popped up. “When I saw Sheldon Cottrell, I think it was Daren Ganga who said: ‘Okay, here we go.’ That’s the last thing I heard.”
He took himself outside to wait on the balcony. “Every bid that they made,” he remembers, “Evin would be telling me: ‘Yo, you’re at this, you’re at that.’ I was super-nervous and excited at the same time.”
Cottrell has taken 87 international wickets
The culmination, perhaps, of a remarkable rise. Cottrell, no doubt, will have other ideas where that is concerned. And he knows too much about life to be frustrated by how recent months have played out.
“I wouldn’t say it’s a disappointment,” he stresses. “It’s something that we can’t control; I would rather be a healthy man than a sick man.
“I was really looking forward to playing in it, to tell you the truth. I was ready, I was pumped. I wanted to make a name for myself and I was going to give it 120 per cent. But it’s a blessing in disguise for me, though. I wasn’t spending enough time with my family and my boy.”
As for the CPL, empty stadia await the six teams, as well as a period in isolation. He has watched his international teammates show the way in that regard.
“it is going to be quite different – taking a wicket and complete silence,” he ponders. “I don’t really feed off the crowd, to be honest. The crowd don’t get me up hyped up or anything; I get myself hyped up.
“Once I’ve crossed the rope, I know I’m going to give it 110 per cent the whole time. But what I do like is to put a smile on the fans’ face and let the fans laugh and enjoy themselves. That’s what I do most as a player.”
That thought takes him back to a conversation with Chris Gayle last summer, when much of this began to sink in.
“While we were playing in the World Cup, I think it was Chris who told me that I wasn’t going to realise how well I’d done until I reached home, sat down and settled,” he recalls. “Not only the World Cup, but my form leading up to it and what I’d been through before I’d started.
“I was hungry. Always hungry. Looking back on all that to the point that I’ve arrived at now, thank you, Lord. That’s the first thing I said: thank you.”
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