One Day at a Time Ben Slater

NICK HOWSON

"It was an addiction towards the end. I'm not proud to say that. I got myself off it last week. I spent three or four months addicted."

While several set fitness goals, others fund-raising targets, and several embarked on home improvements, Ben Slater had an altogether different target during lockdown.

Football Manager. Two words which provoke excitement among some, and regret and shame among many. One wonders how many ideas, thoughts, feelings and relationships have been lost to this black hole of a video game.

Slater was no different. The delay to the domestic cricket season presented an empty period initially with no end date. The 28-year-old guided his beloved Chesterfield from non-league to the Championship. Regrettably, his team remains in the National League in real life.

What some would consider a waste of time was in fact an outlet during an otherwise bleak period. Players across county cricket were placed on furlough. The first-class game slipped deeper into the mire. This particular refuge provided a much-needed release.

The left-hander had psychologically prepared for a second full season with Nottinghamshire. He has averaged below 30 since arriving from Derbyshire in 2018 and with Haseeb Hameed among the off-season arrivals, his place was already under increased pressure. That perilous position was not helped by a run of 4, 9*, and 1 in the back-to-back warm-up matches against Warwickshire.

An afternoon on the final day of July later and Slater was off to Worcester, joining Leicestershire for two weeks ahead of their Bob Willis Trophy opener against Lancashire. "I played in the first warm-up game and didn't pull any trees up," he explained to The Cricketer.

"Once I got wind that I wasn't going to be playing I jumped at the chance (to join Leicestershire) instead of playing club cricket. They were interested to take me. I was over the moon really.

"It happened pretty quick. On Thursday I found out there was a chance. I left training on Friday morning and went down to Worcester for a game in the afternoon."

Though Slater arrived in a disorderly manner, he was more than organised at the crease. Across days two and three he compiled his highest first-class score, the sixth century of his red-ball career.

What began as a vigil turned into a superb array of hitting as the innings progressed, taking the Foxes well past Lancs' first innings total, and laying the foundations for victory. Thanks to Colin Ackermann and Harry Dearden switching into T20 mode on day four, the designated visitors knocked off the 150 runs required with eight balls of the match remaining.

"The changing room was buzzing," said Slater, who himself contributed 25 from 23 balls. "To chase 150 in 15 overs that would be good in a T20, but to do it in a red-ball game when you can put everyone on the boundary and chuck a few balls down the leg side which aren't wides it's even more remarkable. We know how good Acker is but when Harry started hitting it the match swung our way."

The nature of Slater's move to Grace Road means that he could legitimately go from Leicestershire hero one week, to carrying the drink at his parent club the next. Temporary deals are likely to dominate this five-week group phase, but there is no feeling that Slater is approaching this as a summer fling.

"You have to take it day by day and see what happens," he added. "If I'm not in the team at Notts I want to stay and play as many games as I can really.

"But you can't predict what is going to happen in the future. If someone gets injured I might be required back and obviously you don't wish that on anyone. You never know really.

"People have asked when I might be going back but at the moment I'm a Leicester player and if it gets extended then brilliant and if not I've enjoyed the week that I've had so far.

"The lads at Leicester seem a really good bunch of guys. I know a couple of them from my time at Derby; Tom Taylor, Will Davis and Callum Parkinson. That helped me settle straight away.

"I think there might be an option to extend if I'm not required at Notts. I've just got to try my best and hopefully get as many runs as I can. You never know where it might take you at the end of the five games."

Having played for hometown Chesterfield during every year of his professional career, a pandemic was never going to prevent Slater was continuing that run. Once club cricket was permitted to return he was back at Queen's Park to face Marehay.

Forced to take his own key and change in his car, it was a real throwback for the Derbyshire-native.

"It was a bit weird," he admitted. "I've not done anything like that before. I try to get back to Chesterfield but when you turn up - Matt Critchley played too - and you're like 'what do we do?' You can't give your car keys to anyone, and it was a bit of an unknown for everyone really. It was strange getting changed in the passenger seat of your car. It was a bit surreal.

"It was nice to get back to a place where I had grown up with people around you who you know. When you don't have that it makes you put things in perspective. It was nice to be lucky enough to get back and playing with the lads who you have grown up with."

If indeed Slater's spell at Leicester is not extended beyond the fortnight, there will be something satisfying about his final outing coming this weekend against Derbyshire. Familiar faces in the form of Wayne Madsen, Billy Godleman, and others, as well as friendly verbal grenades in the slip cordon await.

"Last year I played against them in a 50-over game and made 80-odd (83) so I did alright," he stated. "There are a few familiar faces in that team and I know a good few of the lads still there.

"There will be some banter flying around. There will be a fair amount. Luis Reece and I went to uni with so it'll be interesting."

Matthew Engel - The Guardian

One great controversy has divided the sports-watching nation this sad summer. There can be no abstentions on this. Fake crowd noise on TV? Yes or no? My answer, to my own astonishment, is yes – even after spending decades at loud sports events, in old-tech days screaming urgent newspaper copy down bad telephone lines, and wishing everyone else would just shaddup.

Last Sunday, I was at Edgbaston watching Warwickshire play Northamptonshire. There were five of us in the press box, at the top of the spectacular newish pavilion, a handful of radio blokes downstairs. A single photographer had camped in the Hollies stand. Sometimes a member of the groundstaff would appear briefly on the far side. The Warwickshire dressing room, invisible below us, applauded their teammate Tim Bresnan’s fifty and hundred. Otherwise, silence.

I wandered outside to the deserted top deck. There were fluffy flat-bottomed clouds over Birmingham, which from here scrubs up surprisingly well in sunshine. There was no sound except for a hum from the air conditioning. It was dystopian, disconcerting and deeply depressing. If a wicket falls at Edgbaston and no one hears, does it make a sound?

Now it is true that play at Edgbaston has taken place with near-empty stands before now (county cricket: supplying your social distancing requisites since 1890). But Sunday was meant to be different. A pilot friendly with spectators had been staged a few days earlier; the sports minister had turned up and made complimentary noises; clearance had been given for 2,500 to be admitted on both Saturday and Sunday.

Then the government clamped down in a panic. Beaches were still packed; airports ditto; the young were lurching from pub to pub spreading joy, laughter and germs. Edgbaston, no. Right now I wouldn’t have fancied a session at the claustrophobic Crucible. But here? In the open, everything controlled, with one-tenth of the real capacity. Oh, c’mon.

Journalists can sometimes tread where others cannot, and county cricket is one of those. But don’t envy me: cricket is sociable or it is nothing. Otherwise, best to stick to the TV, even if it does make the response to Fulham winning promotion sound much the same as an early-morning single nudged to fine-leg.

Cricket itself is also infected with the bad decision-making virus, not for the first time. The ersatz 2020 Championship is called the Bob Willis Trophy: the 18 teams split into three groups, playing five games each – but only two group winners qualify. This means that about half of the teams will be totally out of it halfway through their season. And a one-off final in first-class cricket, where the draw option is essential to the plot, is an inherently crap idea.

OK, this is a difficult year and winter is coming; something had to be cooked up fast. But Willis had his own vision of the future and this tournament looks suspiciously like it; it is not one shared by many of those who want a cricketing structure that is national, viable and bears some relation to tradition. Bob died in December, aged 70. He was a great fast bowler and a nice man with a fertile mind. He deserves a statue, preferably showing him in full flight. Future generations would gaze in awe, not tear it down.

But he’s the wrong fit for this trophy; Willis was never really a county cricketer. He was one of the first players, perhaps the first, to make a conscious decision to subordinate his game at that level to the overriding task of playing Tests. With his fragile body and his unique action, with about a million moving parts, he was right to do so. Over 16 seasons and 149 Championship matches he took 386 wickets, including scaredy-cat 1970s tailenders, compared to 325 in 90 Tests against the best. His average was worse, too. Once, as Warwickshire captain, Bob belatedly brought himself on to try and end a stubborn partnership. “Bowler’s name?” yelled a Brummie voice from the stands.

Equally inappropriate is the graceless junking of the 57-year-old Wisden Trophy for Tests between England and West Indies in favour of the “Richards-Botham Trophy”. I declare a vague interest as a former editor of the almanack who once lugged the now discarded object (much, much heavier than the Ashes) to Antigua and back to present it to Brian Lara.

This was a kneejerk, top-down decision, influenced by the current febrile mood, and stupid because (a) there is already a Viv Richards Trophy, contested by West Indies and South Africa; (b) Botham’s record against West Indies was feeble and his captaincy woeful; (c) his new lordship has had enough scantly deserved honours of late; (d) the alternative suggestion of naming it after the more appropriate Lord Constantine was dismissed, ignorantly; (e) there is no record of John Wisden, the almanack’s founder, having any unacceptable views on anything; and (f) any change to the name of a well-established sporting contest diminishes it – remember the once incredibly successful Gillette Cup? It was not wholly coincidental that it withered after the sponsorship changed.

As it happens there was a better alternative to the Willis Trophy, too. I would have named it after a man who epitomised all the virtues of English county cricket. He was the only man ever to take 4,000 first-class wickets. In the Championship, he took eight times as many wickets as Willis and scored 20 times as many runs.

He was revered throughout his career (1898-1930) in Yorkshire and beyond. I don’t suppose anyone in power at Lord’s has heard of him. He deserves recognition also as recompense to the thousands of guiltless people who share his surname and have been tormented these past few weeks.

His name was Rhodes. Wilfred Rhodes. No relation.

PCA:

“Life has lots of twists and turns, so just try to keep as many doors open as you can by continually upskilling yourself.”

Former Leicestershire and Nottinghamshire man Greg Smith’s message to his fellow PCA members is one learned from experience.

The top-order batsman turned teacher left the game in 2017, having envisaged a career in finance before going into education. That move, however, arrived earlier than expected for Smith as he realised his first job after leaving professional cricket just wasn’t for him.

Having received support and funding from the PCA throughout his career changes, 31-year-old Smith spoke to the Association about the importance of keeping those doors open, his decision to make a career u-turn and his plans for a future in education…

• Q: Briefly summarise your journey since leaving Nottinghamshire in 2017.

• A: My wife and I moved to north London, and the first job I took was in corporate broking, which I did for seven or eight months before deciding it wasn’t for me. After that, when I was deciding what my next move would be, I took a coaching job at Dulwich College and decided I wanted to be more involved with schools. So I then got trained as a classroom teacher, taking a government bursary in September last year to help cover my training, which has involved me working at two local schools in Islington. I’m now a qualified teacher and have got a job at Kelmscott School in Walthamstow, where I’ll be a full-time teacher starting in September.

• Q: What was the thought process behind going into the broking job you mentioned?

• A: I had this idea, which in hindsight might have been a little bit deluded, that I wanted to have three careers. I was aiming to have my time in professional cricket, then make a little bit of money, then go into teaching. But I found myself being really miserable doing the second part. So I thought to myself that I would rather be a happy teacher than miserable in the corporate world. I wanted to earn my crust but I decided that life is short and I wanted to become a teacher and live that profession.

• Q: Was there a particular moment when you had that realisation?

• A: I have a lot of friends in teaching, and when I was doing the corporate job I would spend a bit of time with a mate who was a teacher in Oxford. My time there made me realise that I wanted to be doing something different with my day-to-day and that I should get going to achieve that.

• Q: What are the main skills you’ve taken from professional cricket into teaching?

• A: When you’re a professional cricketer, you become very attuned to other people’s emotions and living in quite a confined space. Similarly, when you’re a classroom teacher with 25 kids, you have to be pretty well attuned to the needs of the people in that room. Living in such proximity to people in county cricket makes you pretty dialled in to people’s needs and emotions and I think that transfers over to being a classroom teacher.
• Also, there’s the sense of community and teamwork. The role of the school is getting everyone to pull in the same direction to provide the best experience for the pupils there, and there is definitely crossover there. One of the things I struggled with in the corporate world, and I’m not trying to pour scorn on it, was the feeling of isolation at your desk, in the sense that you’re judged on your own productivity rather than the feeling of collaboration that you get in the classroom. It’s not a case of didactically talking to the class, it’s about me trying to forge a sense of teamwork around the school.

• Q: Can you expand a bit more on the formal qualifications you’ve done?

• A: Leicestershire gave me a summer contract at the start of my career, which allowed me to get a 2:1 from Durham University, which in itself was a prerequisite to get on to the PGCE (Postgraduate Certificate in Education). The qualification I’ve just finished is a PGCE in Geography and History. The PCA supported me with my degree, my ECB Level 2 coaching qualification and my PGCE, so they’ve been an ever present in my professional development. I’ve also managed to moonlight an A-Level alongside my qualification this year!

• Q: What would your message be to PCA members who are approaching a change in career?

• A: I always thought I was on the right track, but it ended up being my ECB coaching qualification that put me on the road towards becoming a teacher. If people know exactly what they want to do, then brilliant, but I don’t think I was in that bracket when I left the game. But I was lucky enough that I had a few qualifications so I could explore a few different channels.
• On that note, winters are really long, and continually upskilling yourself just keeps doors open. I didn’t think I’d need my coaching qualification when I left the game, but actually it was a really important tool for me to get the job at Dulwich College which opened my eyes to what a great environment teaching is. It really galvanised me to qualify as a teacher. Life has lots of twists and turns, so just try to keep as many doors open as you can by continually upskilling yourself.

• Q: What positives can you take from your experience of leaving the professional game?

• A: The PCA provides a really great safety net. It can be a lonely time and I would encourage all players to use the PCA and speak to the people there just as a sounding board and as a reference point. They’re fantastic. I would also say that relationships you make in cricket are good, strong relationships and, despite being on a completely different tack, I really look forward to catching up with people who I’ve made amazing memories with during my time in the game.

• Q: And your plans for the future?

• A: First and foremost, I’m becoming a new dad in October, which is quite an immediate concern. Being a newly qualified teacher as well as a newly qualified dad means that I think I’ll be fighting fires in the short term.
• Professionally, I want to become the best teacher that I can, and I think working in the state system is the best place to do that. Down the line, I’d be tempted to work in the private system and use my cricket alongside my teaching. I’ve met one or two people in housemaster jobs where you can tie in looking after young people, educating young people and forging that love of sport as a package of three things, alongside some good holidays where you get to spend time with your family. I would definitely sign up for that.

TOM MOORES - A WORK IN PROGRESS

Nick Friend - The Cricketer

“I never really thought about it until someone mentioned it,” admits Tom Moores.

Chris Read’s retirement from first-class cricket at the end of 2017 opened a door that, through his own consistent excellence, had been nailed shut for almost two decades.

For 306 games in red-ball cricket and 397 across both limited-over formats, Read had been Nottinghamshire’s man – a calming constant as the game evolved and others came and went.

And then, it changed: the former England wicketkeeper – 1,398 dismissals later – hung up his gloves, with Moores both beneficiary and successor.

Still now only 23 years old, it has been a steep learning curve – the double-whammy of replacing an icon of county cricket, while under the watchful eye of both head coach and father.

“It never really came into my mind that I was doing that,” he says. “To me, it was just like: ‘Ready’s retiring. It’s my time. It’s my time to go.’ I was confident and chomping at the bit. I was desperate to get in, so I didn’t think: ‘Oh, I’m replacing a legend’, until somebody mentioned it to me and I actually thought of it.

“I thought of the members, I got really into these thoughts – the bowlers had been really used to bowling with Chris Read behind the stumps for their whole careers: Jake Ball, Luke Fletcher, Samit Patel. Their wicketkeeper for their whole career since they’d started until now had been Chris Read. So, then it was changing. And as a bowler to a keeper, you try to have that relationship – you just understand each other and that sort of thing. It didn’t really cross my mind until someone picked it up. And then I started thinking about it.

“Basically, I flipped it on its head. When I went into the team and I knew I was getting a chance, I didn’t want the lads or the members to notice that he was gone. I made that my job. I’m not as good as Chris Read – that’s a fact, especially towards the back end of his career because he learnt his craft as he went though. But I thought: ‘Well, if they don’t notice a drop-off and they don’t notice me, that’s a good sign.’”

Read, so highly regarded for his glovework across the circuit, has remained in the game. He worked with England’s wicketkeepers through their three-match Test series with West Indies in the bio-secure bubble and has played a significant part in Moores’ own development, continuing to assist him as a mentor.

For Moores, however, the challenge has centred on separating himself from those who came before him.

“I accepted that I’m not Chris Read,” he reflects. “I learnt a lot from him and he guided me into the role, which was really nice. But one thing I always promised myself was that I was not going to be a clone of someone. I was going to be my own person and be Tom Moores – try to learn my own keeping style and my own batting style.

“That helped me a lot because then I wasn’t comparing and I was doing my own thing. A similar thing I changed my mindset on was if I ever get the chance to play for England, you’re replacing great keepers. So, it’s something you have to be accustomed to if you get that far. If there’s a keeper in that spot with England and you ever get a chance, if you’re thinking: ‘Well, I’m replacing X, Y or Z’, you’re going to feel inadequate all the time.

“I sort of flipped it as a challenge rather than the daunting aspect of trying to fill someone’s boots who’s a legend in the game and has done so much.”

If that was one elephant in the room, the other comes in the form of Peter Moores, his father and the man in charge at Trent Bridge.

Like father like son, Moores Jnr is a fine speaker on the game; there is a disarming humility to the way he analyses the challenges he has faced since becoming a mainstay of his county side.

Cries of favouritism have been one such test, though there is an acknowledgement they come with the territory. He remembers speaking to Stuart Broad, a teammate at Nottinghamshire, for reassurance about his own experiences of having a prominent cricketing father.

Has he found it difficult? “Yes and no,” he considers. “You’re always going to get the nepotism card thrown at you,” he says with a sigh. “I’m lucky enough that I’m not the first and I won’t be the last to have cricket or sport in the family. It’s like anything – it has its pros and its cons.

“But ultimately, everyone always says if you’re in that position that the pros outweigh the negatives because the negatives normally come from background noise, which is normally quite irrelevant. Whereas, the pros are genuine pros of being in that position.

“What you strive to do as the biggest thing is trying to prove yourself in your way. As soon as Stuart Broad started coming onto the scene, doing well and going through the ranks, people then see Stuart Broad for Stuart Broad. Same for Alec Stewart. He had the ultimate, with his dad picking him for England. He fully deserved it, but then the negatives with that would be: ‘Oh, he’s dad’s pick.’ I’ve had that before. But you know that’s coming. It’s not original.”

He recalls being too young and “a bit oblivious” at the time of his father’s first stint as England coach to truly understand the pressures he was under and the scrutiny that came with the biggest job in English cricket. “But it was a tough time,” he adds. “It’s not easy as a family member. But knowing my old man, he just bounces back from anything and that’s what I saw from him.”

And as for the complexities of separating personal and professional relationships, Moores is equally philosophical. “Ultimately, it comes down to this,” he starts. “Anyone who knows the game and knows my old man, he’s got his own career and his own reputation to live up to.

“We have a working relationship; so, when I’m in the ground, it’s not necessarily father and son – it’s player and coach. I give him the respect that he’s earned in the game as a head coach. I would treat him as Peter Moores, the head coach, not as my dad.

“Likewise, he’s really good at giving me respect as an individual player like all other players in that squad. It’s never different and that’s important. We get a good balance and respect of each other’s jobs. Because, it is a job. Although we love working with each other and it never feels like a job, it is a job. He’s really good at his and I try to be good at mine.”

In a brutally competitive wicketkeeping generation, that approach has proven successful so far. Moores was one of four wicketkeepers selected on England Lions’ winter tour of Australia, alongside Kent’s Ollie Robinson and Gloucestershire’s James Bracey, before an unfortunate injury to Moores opened the door for Worcestershire keeper Ben Cox to replace him.

In addition, of course, there are those above them: Sam Billings kept wicket in England’s T20I series against New Zealand in November, while Jonny Bairstow, Jos Buttler and Ben Foakes sit seemingly in a three-way carousel for a Test berth – though Ollie Pope has also done the job on a makeshift basis. And then, there are others who have performed the role at county level: Tom Banton has worn the gloves in white-ball cricket for Somerset, while Moores’ Nottinghamshire teammates Ben Duckett and Joe Clarke have wicketkeeping experience, too.

It is a saturated, fascinating strand within English cricket at the moment. Moores admits he was “a bit disappointed” to miss out on the 55-man training squad selected by England ahead of this unusual international summer. “But I think if you ever think you’re a shoo-in for any England squad or any squad, you’re in a dangerous spot,” he adds.

He was not helped by an unfortunate injury suffered in Australia that ended his participation before it had even begun. Selected as part of the white-ball leg of that trip, he was hit in the box during a batting session with Jonathan Trott, a blow that effectively left him incapacitated for a fortnight. “At the time, all I could do was crawl up and down because I couldn’t physically stay still – it was so hot, and I was dripping with sweat. I was in absolute agony.”

The pain worsened and he was advised to rest for a period before he could afford to get hit in the same area again. He can laugh about it now, even if only through gritted teeth as he thinks back to the pain. “I literally couldn’t walk, so I was just lying in bed,” he adds, indebted to his roommate, Tom Kohler-Cadmore, who acted as a de facto waiter. “But it’s not a career-shaping thing – just a disappointing opportunity to miss out on.”

That frustration stems from an impressive one-day record and a chance lost to back it up in England colours. Nottinghamshire reached the semi-finals of both white-ball competitions in 2019, with Moores providing 218 runs at an average of 31.14 in the T20 Blast and 281 at 40.14 in the Royal London Cup – in both tournaments, he had the club’s highest strike-rate.

A stint in the Abu Dhabi T10 League followed in the first half of the winter, where he represented Bangla Tigers alongside Liam Plunkett, David Wiese, Rilee Rossouw and Glamorgan batsman Colin Ingram, with whom he struck up a positive relationship. “He was a senior figure for me to look up to and he took me under his wing a little bit,” he says. The whole experience – he has also had a taste of the Pakistan Super League – has left him wanting more of the franchise circuit.

At one point, he found himself keeping wicket to Afghan leg-spinner Qais Ahmad, when he hurled down an 80mph bouncer at Andre Russell. “It’s just stuff like that – in domestic cricket, you don’t get that sort of thing.

“It’s a great challenge for your game and a great learning. You have to find your feet and find your rhythm – it’s a different sort of rhythm to playing domestic cricket or going on a Lions tour. It’s a different environment – you have to buy into the team but you also have to have your own game in order because, although people are there to help you, no one is there to gift anything to you on a plate. You have to know about yourself, I believe. You have to know your own game well, be confident in your own ability and take that around the world.”

In one-day cricket at least, he feels as though he has reached that point. “I guess as a player, it’s all about finding your game and finding your way around,” he explains. “In white-ball cricket, I’m pretty clear on my game and pretty clear to take it to any level and any competition. I know what I can bring.”

Against the red ball – in which Moores became a regular feature of Nottinghamshire’s side a year later than his limited-over exploits, he is still fighting against his own instincts, experimenting with what might most benefit him in the long run.

He averaged 29.33 in his first County Championship season, before suffering a significant dip to 13.88 – a fall in line with his team – as Nottinghamshire were relegated at the end of a poor 2019 campaign.

“I think I’m still working out as a young player my red-ball game,” he admits. “What sort of batter, how aggressive or counterattacking or not am I as a keeper-batter? I’m on the road to finding that.

“I think this season would have been a big year for me. I was confident going into a red-ball season this year to almost put that marker down. So far in my two years of having two full seasons of red-ball cricket, I’ve had one good year and one bad. I’m hoping to bring my red-ball game up to where my white-ball stats are.”

The same is true for the county’s collective fortunes. “The fact that we got to two semi-finals did get overshadowed a little bit by how poor our red-ball season was,” he knows.

The signings of Joe Clarke, Ben Slater, Ben Duckett and Zak Chappell had been expected to instigate a title charge, with a batting line-up full of vibrant talent and youthful exuberance. Instead, the opposite happened. There is no tangible explanation, but an unflinching commitment to rectifying what went wrong.

“Everyone has worked really hard on that,” Moores says. “We’re a new team gelling together and we’ve put a lot of work in.

“It’s just disappointing that this break came about when it did. We were really in a great spot and ready to prove what we can do; everyone was really excited to get going for the red-ball season. We were in the marquee at Trent Bridge and the competitive juices were really high.

“We’ve still got that hunger – probably double it now because of this. Everyone is desperate to get out there. It didn’t work out for us and we had a really tough year. But I back us to come out of that pretty quickly and get back on track. I can only speak for myself but it’s something that we all worked on really hard. The challenge of keeping and batting in a red-ball game really taps into my competitiveness. It really gets me going. It’s something I’ve been working on; I believe I’ve got the skills to do well in red-ball cricket. I’m still learning my game in red-ball cricket and my ways of going about it.

“That’s one of the things I’ve been brought up on as a lad – never to be satisfied and to always push to be better.”

After making runs in a belated pre-season warmup game against Leicestershire, the Bob Willis Trophy is next in his line of vision. Now very much his own man, Tom Moores – a thoughtful, engaging character – is out to show what he can do.