As far as Test cricket is concerned, Chris Gayle is obviously a bit tired of it and has had enough of captaincy. Initially he didn’t want the job – he’s a pretty laid back guy and likes to take it easy, and the pressure of being captain, not necessarily on the field but all of the other things off it is one of his major concerns. He obviously needs a lot of time for himself, which he doesn’t get as captain. I can attest to that. My batting deteriorated after I became captain, and one of the reasons was that I didn’t have enough time to focus on my game or put in the type of personal practice and training that I was accustomed to. I empathise with him a little where that is concerned, but he’s got to look at himself as well, and if he’s not comfortable with the job, then there is nothing wrong in expressing that and people have got to respect that.

Read the rest of Richie Richardson’s blog here.

Richie Richardson is writing weekly for thewisdencricketer.com for the duration of the West Indies tour of England in association with the Antigua Tourist Board

I’m depressed. This hotel room is freezing. My hotel room in South Africa was a perfect temperature.

I look at my watch: 2.30pm. No rest for the wicked. I managed to snatch a quick 14 hours sleep but I’m still worn out.

God it’s cold in here. I call Fidel, get him to come and fix the heating. He says he just has to cook everyone’s breakfast, make up the beds, regrout a bathroom, carry Shiv to the jacuzzi – he doesn’t like to waste energy when he’s not batting – and then he’ll be up as soon as he can.

I bet Viv Richards didn’t have to put up with this. I take a nap while I wait, to try and keep my strength up. Eventually Fidel arrives, passes me my breakfast tray. I drop it. He runs downstairs to get another one. I take a quick nap.

He comes back, looks at the heater.

“You just have to turn this dial here to ‘ON’, skipper,” he says. “See? Now it’s on.”

It’s typical. The constant demands, the pressure, having to take responsibility for everything. All eyes on you. I wish I could practice turning the heater on and off but I don’t have time. But when I need to turn it on, I’ll be ready. If I’m not too tired through no fault of my own.

In South Africa, the heaters were brilliant. In fact, they don’t even have heaters there. They have air-conditioning. And there’s none of this long, drawn-out business of turning a dial. You just flick a switch and – boom – it’s the perfect temperature. Maybe in the future all hotel rooms will be like that. To be honest, I wouldn’t care. I don’t need a heater. Maybe Andrew Strauss does, but that’s his problem if he can’t figure out how the hotel room of the future will be temperature-controlled. He should mind his own business and not be talking about me when he should be talking about him.

I try and have a rest, but I can’t. I’m thinking about Andrew Strauss thinking about me when he’s trying to sleep, and then I start thinking about Andrew Strauss thinking about me thinking about him when I should be trying to sleep.

I wake up a few hours later, hardly rested at all, and soon it’ll be time for bed, before the whole exhausting treadmill starts again tomorrow.

By Alan Tyers