IT HAS been a traumatic month for Middlesex. First, Denis Compton, their most famous player and president dies, then they become the first county to be beaten by Ireland, and now their captain is standing down.
Mike Gatting announced yesterday that, after leading the county for 15 of the most successful years in their history, he is handing over the reins to Mark Ramprakash with immediate effect.
In fact, it is a thoroughly sensible move, born of Ramprakash's readiness, and Gatting's closer involvement with England. After last weekend's Texaco taster, no wonder he is anxious to play a major role at the development level.
He will continue to play for Middlesex, perhaps to the end of 1998, coaxing Ramprakash through the early days of leadership and in the meantime seeking a further nine centuries to make him the 24th man to score a hundred hundreds. He is likely to have more success with the first task than the second. County captaincy is an intricate business, and moving the field and changing the bowling are only the half of it. Gatting always eschewed the services of a manager, so knows all the intricacies of the job: anything from persuading the Lord's ground staff to erect the nets more quickly to picking the match ball. The one duty he did manage to palm off was 'transport organiser', which involved arranging a squabbling squad into threes for car travel to the next away game.
Generally Gatting never shirked responsibility. Once after a run of poor results, he asked for more commitment from the senior players, walked in at 10 for two and made 158. He never tolerated laxity or lethargy. He orchestrated a cacophony of sound on the field, urging on the bowlers, clapping his chunky hands vigorously. Occasionally his vehemence backfired. ``Right, remember a good, solid start is vital,'' he implored before a NatWest semi-final at Southampton, ``and watch out if you're trying to take a quick single to Paul Terry at cover, he's very quick.'' A short time later Gatting was run out taking on Terry at cover.
In elements of determination, punctuality and dress he set an immaculate example (though some players secretly believed he banned the wearing of jeans purely because he couldn't find any to fit). He instilled a discipline at first a shade rigid, which relaxed to accommodate the perverse characters like the two Phils, Edmonds and Tufnell.
His one area of weakness was informing players of tricky decisions. The first time I was dropped I found out from Val the office typist, who said nonchalantly: ``Bad luck about not playing - you're not in the team I've just given to the scoreboard operators.'' Gatting hadn't had the heart to tell me himself and admitted later: ``I always want everyone to play, so I find it hard to tell them they're not.''
Well he doesn't have to worry. That invidious task passes to Ramprakash, while Gatting, for the first time since 1982 and the brandishing of eight trophies, is a mere player. The time is right. He has found it hard keeping up with county cricket's fitness-orientated expectations, and the decline of old-fashioned socialising after games. Ramprakash is smart, modern and ambitious, and more sympathetic towards individuals than his past reputation or his nickname 'Bloodaxe' suggest. Leadership could stimulate his own game in the same way it did his predecessor.