Rocking and rumbling, as used to describe his bustling persona, the promising fast bowler greeted visiting royalty with his customary genial warmth. Voted Young Cricketer of the Year by a jury of learned scribes, Lawrence collected his gong at the most memorable net practice of his life.

“What made that award extra special was that it was presented to me by the patron of Gloucestershire Cricket Club… the ,” said Lawrence. “ visited the club and had a tour of all the facilities, including watching us have a net. I was only jogging in off a few paces but she still thought I bowled extremely fast.

“Naturally I was shocked by her sudden death in 1997 and thought back many times to that day she spent with us at Gloucestershire. As a result of her patronage, three people from the club were invited to her funeral at Westminster Abbey, and I was one of those asked to attend. Jack Russell and Andy Stovold were the other two.

“We were sat directly behind a couple of Americans. One was Dr Henry Kissinger, a former US secretary of state and brilliant political thinker, the other was a comedian, actress and writer who often appeared on television throughout the 1980s and 90s.

“She would not shut up! I don’t think I’ve ever heard someone talk as incessantly as she did that day. At one point Jack leaned forward and gently motioned for her to be quiet. She smiled and agreed to do just that, and promptly started talking again.

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"When I spoke with back in 1986, she did ask me about playing for and whether it might happen soon. I told her I hoped so, and that if I played at Lord’s then I might meet her mother-in-law too. She had a chuckle at that, which I dined out on for a little while.”

The prospect of Lawrence going on to play for was not universally approved among the country’s redneck fringes. One heinous scrap of anonymous correspondence through the post advised him “to go back to the f*****g jungle.”

For the first British-born Black player it was a dark reminder of a nation’s swivel-eyed tendency.

“English has long been littered with racists and apologists for racism,” wrote Lawrence in his searing new book, after his shattering diagnosis of motor neurone disease.

“Back in 1980 I was playing my first game for the Gloucestershire second team and one evening I was in my hotel room when I got a knock at the door. I opened it to find that one of my team-mates had left a banana skin there for me to find. It was a classic racist trope that was used to compare Black people to monkeys.

“I was the butt of the ‘joke’. And it hurt. I wish I could tell you that I confronted the person who put it there and had it out with them, but I didn’t. I wish I could tell you that I laughed it off, but I didn’t. I sat down on my bed and I cried. If this is the way that my own team-mates see me, then what about those I’m playing against?

“I promised myself that would never happen again and that winter I went to the local gym in Bristol, The Empire, where the Commonwealth gold medal weightlifter Precious McKenzie used to train, and worked so hard on transforming my body into one that was not only fit for purpose on the field but one that wouldn’t be messed with off it.”

When racist fans bombarded him with Klansman vitriol and bananas in a Sunday League game against Yorkshire at Scarborough 41 years ago, the pond life were lucky ‘Syd’ didn’t wade into the crowd to educate them. Seven years later, at the same venue, it happened again.

“As the bananas started to appear, Yorkshire physio Wayne Morton dived into the crowd to confront the racists and was hauled out by the police who were trying to keep things calm,” recalled Lawrence. “A punter managed to get to me by the side of the pitch and confront me. ‘Lawrence, you Black b******!’ he said. I was ready to swing for him, but managed to intervene just in time.”

Lawrence was always grateful for the words of his childhood hero and mentor, whose lecture after a weekend making the acquaintance of Somerset and Avon police still resonates with him.

“You are a young Black man, and it will never be easy being a Black man trying to make your way, but you need to be strong. They are waiting for you to f*** up,” warned King Viv. “They don’t want to respect you and they want you to fail. Don’t give them the satisfaction of proving them right about you. Use your cricket ability to prove them wrong.”

It is an unjustified allocation of ill fortune that one of cricket’s greatest characters, who fought back from the graphic disintegration of his knee during a Test match against New Zealand in Wellington 33 years ago, should be cut down by such a savage illness.

Lawrence can no longer walk or talk, and at 61 he has planned his own funeral. But for all its darkness, his memoir is a rocking and rumbling good read.

*In Syd’s Voice - The Extraordinary Life of Dave Lawrence is published on Thursday and is available at . A minimum of £0.50, split between the MND Association and the Cricketers’ Trust, will be donated for every copy sold.