I've been fortunate to make some lifelong friends during my time as a cricketer and none more so than Courtney Walsh, who was the finest bowler I played alongside in my career and an equally fine man.
We got on well from the start, when our paths first crossed in an Under-25s game, and we are still great friends to this day. Courtney has been supportive and has sent me messages since he first found out about my condition and they have meant a huge amount to me.
Our bowling partnership at Gloucestershire should have brought us a County Championship crown and I'm gutted that we didn't manage to get over the line, but we had great fun trying.
He was undoubtedly one of the very best to have ever played the game, and he was a bit of an inspiration for me as a team-mate.
That started during my stint in Perth in 1984 where I got the chance to see him make his Test debut at the WACA alongside so many of my heroes from 1976.
Courtney very kindly sorted me tickets for each day of the Test and I was so excited to be able to watch West Indies once again up close. I watched them bat all day on day one and then missed day two because I was playing club cricket. But on day three the Windies bowlers put on a hell of a show. Michael Holding took six wickets to bowl Australia out for just 76, meaning Courtney didn't even get a bowl.
Clive Lloyd enforced the follow-on and in the second innings Courtney got his first Test wicket as part of a big innings win. He played in all five matches in a thumping 3-1 series win and his Test career was up and running.
We had a good catch-up in Perth and had a few drinks after the game and promised to bring the heat back to Gloucestershire with us the next year, and that is exactly what we did.
The 1985 season was one of my most enjoyable campaigns because it was the first full season I played together with Courtney and Kevin Curran, who had also joined us. I was straining at the leash to get started and in my first Championship game, I took nine wickets against Lancashire, which got me up and running.
After his international duties, Courtney arrived in time for the third game of the season, against Sussex, and I was flying. I bowled like the wind and took 7 for 48 to get people's attention.
Sussex skipper John Barclay called it the fastest spell he had seen at Hove, while Courtney gave me a big pat on the back as we came off the field and thanked me for making life easy for him, having just got off the plane. That was a big moment for me because all of a sudden I had people talking me up as a potential England player. With Bob Willis having retired the previous summer, the hunt was on for England's next fast-bowling star and I was making my move at just the right time. Two games later we played Derbyshire in Derby and, up against Michael Holding, I took another five wickets. Courtney took the other five as we bowled our side to victory on the last day.
That was a feeling I will never forget and it is one that we got to enjoy a fair few more times together over the years, but to do it nice and early was a great marker and it showed us just how potent a partnership we could be.
We bowled with real pace and with real intent too. When you came up against us as a batter, you had to be brave to score runs.
Guys like Allan Lamb, Robin Smith and Wayne Larkins were definitely in that category. "Ned" Larkins in particular was a bit of a nemesis for me at Wantage Road. I didn't particularly like bowling there because I didn't get many wickets and Ned always seemed to hit me all over the place. Every bowler has a batter they struggle against and for me it was him.
The short ball was something we used to unsettle opponents so that when we pitched it up, they would be hesitant and not quite in line, which would mean we were more likely to find the outside edge. It was all about taking wickets.
But in that game against Derby, and then later on against Kent, when Courtney and I shared seven wickets in the second innings, we were accused of intimidatory bowling.
It didn't bother us in the slightest. Whenever a team had a bowler with a bit of pace in the side they would use it to their advantage and we were no different. We were just lucky that with Courtney, myself and Kevin, the quick stuff just kept on coming. The aim was always to take wickets, not to hurt people. It was the threat of getting hurt that was the greatest weapon and that is what we used.
I took pleasure from seeing a batter jerk their head out of the way in surprise at how quick it was. Or if they ducked a bouncer and ended up on the floor, that was fine with me because it scrambled their minds and gave you more of a chance of getting them out.
Occasionally people did get hurt and had the bumps and bruises to show for the contest, but I always wanted people to remain healthy.
One day that wasn't the case and it was during a game against West Indies in 1988. They had allrounder Phil Simmons opening the batting and he was a big, imposing cricketer who could hit the ball a long way.
We were still in an era when helmets were not compulsory and lots of players didn't wear them, including Phil on this day.
I bowled him a bouncer with the new ball and as he went to duck, it hit him on the head and he collapsed. It was a frightening moment but he got up, feeling worse for wear. I went over to check on him and make sure he was okay. He nodded but he looked very shaky on his feet.
As he was helped from the ground by the team medic, he collapsed again and this time he needed serious medical attention. An ambulance came and took him to the hospital where he had life-saving surgery to relieve the pressure on his brain.
That was the day when all the West Indies players bar Viv Richards started to wear helmets against real pace and made sure they had them in their kit bags. As a bowler I didn't feel guilty about it because I was just doing my job and it was Phil's choice whether or not to wear a helmet. Obviously he was taking a risk by not doing so. As a human being, of course I felt for Phil, which is why the next day I went to visit him in hospital after he had the surgery and was recuperating.
I went into the room where he was lying down and his fiancée was sat there next to him and I just broke down in tears. I didn't want to have this effect on anybody. He motioned me over to him and as I stood there he took my hand and said, "It's okay. It's not your fault." I just felt so bad seeing him there wired up and I was the one who put him there. You don't play the game to do that.
There has always been an element of danger to the game and that is what makes it so thrilling. As a bowler you know that if a batter misses a short ball there is a chance that you could hurt them, but that is not going to stop you from trying to get them out any way you can. There is an understanding that the batter can also take advantage of that sort of delivery.
In the modern game every player wears a helmet, so thankfully serious head injuries are more rare, but I think that batters might get hit in the head more than ever because they haven't had to learn how to evade the ball as much, and they are more prepared to have a hook at the ball, knowing that they are protected. Either way I'm just glad that Phil was all right and able to continue his cricket career. He didn't play again on that tour understandably, but he was back on the field after three months and on the 1991 tour to England we faced off against each other again and this time it was in Test cricket.
Courtney and I had become good friends over the course of that first season and my dad loved chatting to him too as a fellow Jamaican, when he came to watch my games. That Caribbean heritage brought us together too when it came to socialising and going out from time to time. We both enjoyed good music and a good party, although I was a bit more of a night owl than Courtney.
One thing we both had plenty of time for was the St Pauls Carnival [an event celebrating African Caribbean culture] that was held every summer [in Bristol], so if you were an opposition batter and wanted a bit of respite from us, then you had to hope that we were playing you across carnival weekend.
For some strange reason, in the week leading up to the carnival, my hamstring would get very tight and sore, and would you believe it, Courtney would also feel some stiffness in a similar area and would require some treatment.
It was either dumb luck or just an extraordinary coincidence that on around five occasions both Courtney and I would be out of action in the same game and have to stay at home resting our "injuries". Somehow those injuries would be enough to keep us out of cricket action, but we were just about fit enough to join the carnival for the day before recovering in time for the next match.
It was amazing that no one cottoned on to our regular little bit of cricketing truancy, but I guess no one else had any interest in the event so we knew we were safe to enjoy ourselves without the club finding out, until now I guess.
Courtney was a gentle giant off the field, but he had his moments and he had a temper like anyone does when provoked. Most people were smart enough not to wind him up, but I can remember him losing his rag a couple of times.
There was a game against Derbyshire when Kim Barnett and Peter Bowler were batting and they were doing pretty well despite Courtney creating chances. A catch off Barnett was dropped and Bowler took exception to Courtney's mutterings. The next single he took, he bumped his shoulder into Courtney, which set everything off and even had me steaming up from fine leg to get involved. Bowler was waving his bat and Courtney was not happy and ready to rip the bat out of his hands. The umpires managed to calm things down, but Courtney was still reported for the incident.
Another time he had a run-in with one of his own team-mates during a game against Hampshire.
The great Malcolm Marshall had come in to bat and there is no doubt that there was a lot of respect between him and Courtney. He would have been someone that Courtney looked up to and was learning from in the West Indies team, plus they were both fast bowlers, so there was often a bit of an understanding between your fellow quicks.
But after bowling three half-volleys to Maco one of our team piped up and shouted, "Come on Courtney, what's wrong with you?! How is it that you pitch it up to your lot, and to us blokes we get all the short stuff?!"
Everyone knew what he meant.
Maybe the team-mate had a point in wanting to see the opposition given a tough time, but there was a way to do it, which didn't involve shouting it across the ground for everyone to hear, calling into question Courtney's integrity as much as anything.
It took a while for everything to calm down after that, the player who made the comment apologised to Courtney afterwards, but the damage was done and they gave each other a wide berth after that. There were just some players you knew you were never going to see eye to eye with and the best thing was to give each other some space off the field. On it, we were still a team and we all pulled in the same direction in trying to help our side win.
Courtney was a proud Jamaican and I used to talk to him about life in Jamaica, a place where I had roots but hadn't visited. He told me about cricket at Sabina Park, which was one of the most famous and feared grounds in world cricket. Many a visiting batter would have nightmares about that place, and I made a promise to myself that I would get the chance to check it out.
The aim was clearly to be part of an England tour to the West Indies and to play a Test match on the island of my heritage, but after my knee injury in 1992, that aim had to be parked. I still wanted to experience the place, though, and from the stories I had heard from Courtney and other players who had played there, it was something that I knew I would enjoy. I just had this vision of sitting in the stands and watching a game unfold in the sunshine, with the noise of the crowd, and with an ice-cold Red Stripe in my hand. Doesn't that sound like bliss?
After returning to the Gloucestershire side in 1997, I had focused my attention on getting fit and firing for the 1998 season, but with England touring the Caribbean I thought this was my chance to make my pilgrimage and go and watch some cricket in Jamaica. I went out on my own as a supporter and stepped onto Jamaican soil for the very first time and couldn't have been happier.
I had arrived the day before the game and I was so excited to be there with the prospect of seeing so many of my friends on both teams playing in the match. The day of the game I was up a little later than I wanted due to jet lag, but I got myself sorted and jumped into a taxi and headed to the ground.
When I arrived the game was already in progress and England were batting. They had lost two wickets, which wasn't exactly a surprise since Curtly [Ambrose] and Courtney had a habit of running through English top orders. I found out where my seat was and looked up at the scoreboard, which read 7 for 2 at the end of the seventh over.
Before I settled in, I thought I'd better go and get that Red Stripe I had been looking forward to, but as soon as I got to the back of the stand I heard a huge roar of noise, which I took to mean that England had lost another wicket.
Nasser Hussain was out and the two Surrey guys, Alec Stewart and Graham Thorpe, were in the middle. I had played in teams with both of them and I had also bowled to them and got them out, so I wanted to get back and see how they would cope with the Windies pace duo.
By the time I got back to my seat they were just finishing the tenth over and the score was 17 for 3. I took a sip of my beer and thought, "This is great." With two wickets already to his name to equal the tally of the great Dennis Lillee on 355 wickets, Courtney was at the top of his mark, ready to bowl. I took another sip of the crisp, refreshing beer as he ran in and bowled a ball just back of a length to Thorpe, but it reared up and hit him on the glove, and he threw the bat down in pain and anger.
That wasn't a particularly unusual sight, to see batters find life uncomfortable against Courtney, but the ball had bounced much more steeply than Thorpey was expecting.
At this point, the players all gathered together in the middle, the umpires were involved, and then Mike Atherton, who had already been dismissed, came jogging out from the pavilion after the physio.
I didn't know what was going on. It all seemed a bit bizarre.
The next thing I knew, the players were walking off and the game was abandoned. I was stunned.
I turned to some fans next to me and asked what on earth was going on. "It is a dangerous pitch, someone is going to get seriously hurt," they said. What I didn't realise, having come into the ground 45 minutes after the start of play, was that the pitch was like a corrugated iron roof, which meant if the ball bounced on the upslope it took off like a rocket, and if it landed on the downslope it would shoot along the floor like a pea-roller. And no batter in the world can cope with that kind of variable bounce.
The real worry was that Courtney and Curtly were two of the tallest fast bowlers in the world and the pace they bowled at made it seriously dangerous for the batters to face them.
You would be expecting the ball to bounce around your thigh or your hip, and suddenly it would be at your head. I knew what it was like to be the bowler who caused a serious head injury from bowling after what happened to Phil Simmons, and neither Courtney nor Curtly wanted to be the guy who did something similar to the England batters.
I spoke to Courtney afterwards and he admitted it was really difficult to keep running in and trying to bowl your best ball knowing that the pitch could make something awful happen. He didn't enjoy that hour of cricket and the right decision was made to abandon the match.
But it meant that my dream visit to Jamaica at the age of 34 to watch some Test cricket lasted precisely one ball. That is a hell of a long journey just to see one live delivery. They reconfigured the tour and ended up playing another match in Trinidad to make up for the abandonment, but I couldn't follow them there. I had to get home and prepare for the new English season, which unbeknown to me at that stage would be my last as a professional cricketer.
This is an extract from In Syd's Voice, by David Lawrence with Dean Wilson, Fairfield Books, 2025. A minimum of £0.50, evenly split between the MND Association and the Cricketers' Trust, will be donated for every copy sold.