Jonny Bairstow

Everyone who survives cancer knows the victory against it may only be temporary. You know eventually that you might have to fight all over again. Almost 15 years after my mum's first bout of cancer, a second bout occurred. This time she needed an operation.

My mum thinks I get my determination and resilience from my dad. I think it comes mostly from her.

My dad passed on his cricketing talent. My mum has enabled me to use it.

When I came into the Yorkshire academy I was christened Bluey almost immediately.

I was only ever briefly angry with my dad for leaving us. It happened shortly after his death, when things were at their darkest and the grief in me was raw and at its worst.

I've learnt - and this pleases me - that my dad's cricketing life and my own will always be intertwined, even though I will finish far behind the number of appearances he made for Yorkshire and also his length of service at Headingley.

My dad is never far from my thoughts. A place, a game, an incident somewhere or an unexpected word from someone can trigger a memory, which then triggers another, and suddenly I'm thinking about him, if only for a minute or two.

Yorkshire knew how important Scarborough was for me. So I was awarded my county cap there in 2011. That first cap is one of the most precious things I own. The club didn't tell me that I'd be receiving it, but instead tipped off my mum, making sure she saw the presentation.

The place closest to my dad's heart, unequivocally his favourite, was Scarborough. To him it was the epitome of the English coast, postcard perfect.

When my dad died, I was eight. Becky was seven. My mum had cancer, the first of two bouts that she's fought and beaten.

You know when you've hit a good shot. I use a bat that weighs two pounds and nine ounces, and it makes a reassuringly solid sound when I connect properly. The ball pings off the middle.

In my head I'm talking all the time.

When I came into the England team I was always being asked whether I 'really' wanted to be a wicketkeeper. It was as though no one had noticed the work I'd already put in to make myself one.

I've been through practices during which I've felt as though medieval torture would have been easier.

I don't like intensely complicated coaching. I prefer to work things out by myself. A gentle hint is all I need, otherwise it's like finishing a crossword after someone has given me the answers.

Everything goes out of the window when you start an Ashes series. It's about grabbing the moment.

As a young kid you stay up late to watch the Ashes, getting told off for not being in bed, and dream of making a hundred against Australia.

In an Ashes series you have to adapt quickly to the conditions and your rivals. If you don't, you get found out.

If your game is to take everything on then you have to stick with that and if it's your game to get out of the way of the short ball then that's what you do.

You think of what might have been different if dad had been around, or how I might have turned out as a person. You just don't know. I might not even be playing cricket.