A brook that washes over the root of cricket intelligence

Joe Root who had just made his highest one day international score as England won the series against the West Indies said of new skipper Harry Brook. “He led the team really well.” A fine endorsement from a senior player. Then he added, “He might not always be the most intelligent away from cricket, but he understands the game exceptionally well.” Now what?

The assertion, though seemingly blunt, is not just a commentary on Brook’s off-field persona or academic inclinations, but rather a reflection of the intricate relationship between personal and professional identities in modern sport. Root’s words, from an experienced cricketer, provoke more questions than answers. What does it mean for a player to lack intelligence outside cricket, and is such an assessment relevant?

Off-field activities

Players often live in bubbles. Their lives revolve around the rhythm of matches, practice, sponsorships, and the media circus that accompanies it all. Brook, 26, has already gained a reputation for his aggressive approach to the game. His cricketing intelligence is rarely called into question. Yet Root’s criticism seems to stem not from Brook’s batting but from a perception of Brook as a young man whose off-field activities don’t align with a more conventional, well-rounded public persona.

He makes an intriguing point: in an era when athletes are often expected to be masters not only of their game but also of communication, social media, and even intellectual discourse, what happens to those who wish to remain focused on their primary craft? Is the expectation of intelligence outside cricket a reasonable one, or is it merely a by-product of modern-day celebrity?

And what does “intelligence” outside cricket mean anyway? Does it refer to academic brilliance, an ability to engage in eloquent conversation, or an aptitude for navigating the social media minefield that accompanies fame? If intelligence is merely a measure of being well-versed in these other spheres, then it risks ignoring the more nuanced forms of intellect — those that operate in the cricketing mind itself.

Mental agility

Brook may lack the bookish intelligence that some think is required off the field, but his tactical awareness on the pitch, his ability to read opposition bowlers and adapt his game accordingly, reflects a different type of mental agility. Sport is about decision-making, and the best make the right decisions consistently.

Whatever the yardstick, former England captain Mike Brearley will emerge as the most ‘intelligent’ man to have played international cricket. He topped the civil services exam in Britain, is a Cambridge philosopher with a first in the Classics, and continues his practice as a psychoanalyst. The Australian fast bowler Rodney Hogg said he had a “degree in people”. Brearley began as a wicketkeeper and has a first class triple century to his credit. He is the finest captain the game has seen, and as a writer and analyst, the best. Yet, his Test average is 23, with a highest score of 91. What might Root say of his intelligence?

Artificial line

Root is often seen as the thinking man’s cricketer, his success built on a deep understanding of the game. By suggesting that Brook lacks intelligence outside cricket, he draws an artificial line between the intellectual rigour required to succeed at the game and the expectations placed on a young man to fit a broader narrative of “intelligent” modernity. It segues with the public’s desire for athletes to reflect not just sporting excellence, but also their capacity to succeed in every other area of life.

Root would have the world at his feet if he wished to transition into punditry, business, or even politics once his playing days are over. Brook, on the other hand, may well prefer to focus on his cricket, allowing his bat to do the talking and his lifestyle to remain somewhat private. That doesn’t make him any less of an intelligent player — just perhaps less inclined to conform to the popular definition of “intelligence” that Root might be referring to.

Root’s comment offers a glimpse into the subtle pressures athletes face in balancing their on-field identities with the off-field expectations placed upon them. It reflects the tendency to conflate cricketing brilliance with a form of all-encompassing intelligence. And it does no favours to a world-class player and captain.