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Home , Alec Bedser, Arthur Morris, Barry Richards, Bill Brown (cricketer), Brian Statham, Craig McDermott

Jeremy Wilshire completed a cadetship with News Limited and was a sports journalist and features writer for various newspapers, agencies and magazines, before forging a career in sports marketing, public relations and events. His first book, One of Those Days, about a day in the career of Australian sporting heroes, was published in 2002. He lives with his family near Kiama, on the NSW south coast.

CONFESSI ONS OF

JEREMY W I L S H I R E Echo Publishing An imprint of Bonnier Publishing 534 Church Street, Richmond 3121 Australia www.echopublishing.com.au

Copyright © Jeremy Wilshire, 2016

All rights reserved. Echo Publishing thanks you for buying an authorised edition of this book. In doing so, you are supporting writers and enabling Echo Publishing to publish more books and foster new talent. Thank you for complying with copyright laws by not using any part of this book without our prior written permission, including reproducing, storing in a retrieval system, transmitting in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, or by photocopying, recording, scanning or distributing.

First published 2016

Cover design by Design by Committee Page design by Shaun Jury Front cover images, left to right: , , Australia, 1980 (/Patrick Eagar Collection via Getty Images); , Headingley, , 1990 (Bob Thomas/Getty Images); , Sydney, Australia, 2005 (Hamish Blair/Getty Images); Muttiah Muralidaran, Galle, , 2010 (Lakruwan Wanniarachchi/AFP/Getty Images) Back cover image: Final , , , Australia, 1960 (Central Press/ Hulton Archive/Getty Images) Part title image: Shutterstock

Typeset in Newzald and ITC Officina Sans

Printed in Australia at Griffin Press. Only wood grown from sustainable regrowth forests is used in the manufacture of paper found in this book.

National Library of Australia Cataloguing-in-Publication entry Creator: Wilshire, Jeremy, author. Title: Test of character: confessions of legends / Jeremy Wilshire; introduction: Peter Cosgrove ; commentary: John Cleese, Kerry O’Keeffe & . ISBN: 9781760404321 (paperback) ISBN: 9781760404338 (epub) ISBN: 9781760404345 (mobi) Subjects: Cricket--Anecdotes. Cricket--History. Cricket players--Anecdotes. Other Creators/Contributors: Cosgrove, Peter, 1947- writer of introduction. Cleese, John, 1939- writer of added commentary. O’Keeffe, Kerry, 1949- writer of added commentary. Bhogle, Harsha, writer of added commentary. Dewey Number: 796.358

@echo_publishing @echo_publishing facebook.com/echopublishingAU For Jay and Finn, our backyard legends: strive, give, love, laugh .!.!. and keep that front elbow up.

A schoolmaster on the virtue of cricket: ‘It merges the individual in the eleven; he doesn’t play that he may win, but that his side may.’ – Tom Brown’s School Days (an 1857 novel by Thomas Hughes)

Contents

PITCH REPORT Foreword Sir Peter Cosgrove AK MC (Retd) 3 Prologue (Australia) 5 MORNING Debut up to 1975 Alan Davidson (Australia) ‘A ’s dream’ 19 (Australia) ‘Sugar-free skipper’ 31 Bishan Bedi () ‘Clockwork and verse’ 47 () ‘Feline grace’ 59 Greg Chappell (Australia) ‘Art, science and an almond tree’ 73 Sir Richard Hadlee () ‘Great expectations’ 91 () ‘ fast, things happened’ 103 LUNCH Food for thought (Australia) ‘-barrelled dream weaver’ 119 Mohammad Nabi (Afghanistan) ‘A journey worth celebrating’ 125 Brendon McCullum (New Zealand) ‘Spirit seeker’ 131 MIDDLE SESSION Debut 1976 to 1995 (Australia) ‘Unabashed enthusiasm’ 141 (England) ‘Crumpled sonnets and a speeding Bugatti’ 151 Craig McDermott (Australia) ‘A gunslinger’s road to respect’ 167 (Australia) ‘Captain Quintessential’ 181 (England) ‘Accidental hero’ 197 (Australia) ‘A cavalier from Teddy’s cloth’ 209 Muttiah Muralidaran (Sri Lanka) ‘Symbol of goodness’ 223 TEA Light refreshments John Cleese ‘Writer, actor, tall person’ 235 Kerry O’Keefe & Harsha Bhogle ‘It’s not rocket surgery’ 241 Waleed Aly ‘The value of a good cover drive’ 247 FINAL SESSION Debut after 1995 (India) ‘Wherever I lay my hat .!.!.’ 255 Adam Gilchrist (Australia) ‘All aboard the Feelgood Express’ 267 (Australia) ‘Agent of happiness .!.!. for most’ 281 (Sri Lanka) ‘Cricket’s ultimate chameleon’ 295 (South Africa) ‘True grit’ 307 Michael Clarke (Australia) ‘Pass the bubbly’ 321 (England) ‘Introducing the audacious Dr Comfort’ 335 STUMPS Harold ‘Dickie’ Bird () ‘Legend and caricature’ 351 Epilogue Mike Coward (The LBW Trust) 357 Acknowledgements 359 References 361 List of Images 369

PITCH REPORT

Foreword

His Excellency the Honourable Sir Peter Cosgrove AK MC (Retd) Governor-General of the Commonwealth of Australia

Ostensibly, cricket is about runs and . Average 50 with the bat, or in the low to mid-20s with the ball, and you sit comfortably in the category of the all-time greats. The best all-rounders strive for 30 or so with both bat and ball. And, of course, if you average 99.94 runs every time you go to the , you are in a class of your own and are known quite simply as ‘the Don’. But as all cricketers can tell you – from the backyard heroes to the champions of the Test arena – statistics only tell part of the story. Stoic fifth-day occupation of the crease to force a draw can be far more valuable than a breezy 50 when little is on the line. And a -breaking against a pair of established batsmen can be the equal of a bagful on a first-day green-top. This is why cricket is truly a test of character. It is more than averages and strike rates; it’s about a shared spirit of competition and camaraderie, and it’s about embracing the game, its laws and traditions. Above all, cricket is so special because it brings people and nations together. In Test of Character, legends from seven Test-playing nations provide their insights into the game. As a youngster sitting with my dad on the Paddington Hill at the Sydney Cricket (SCG), I watched ’s English battle it out with ’s champion team – seemed to push off from the sightscreen! My own enthusiastic but unskilled cricket career eased me well into my late 50s and allowed endless fantasies of wickets taken, runs plundered

3 FOREWORD and catches swallowed. ( is not the only cricket tragic!) Publication of this book will support the Learning for a Better World (LBW) Trust, of which I am a proud patron. The trust is an initiative of the international cricketing community, which gives hope and opportunity to thousands of young people in developing cricket playing countries. LBW scholarships support those who have the ability, but not the means, to study and fulfil their potential. The work of the trust demonstrates the enormous spirt and compassion that exists amongst the cricket fraternity. It shows that cricket’s shared values, mutual understanding and common respect have the power to change lives and contribute to a better world. Test of Character is a great read and reflects the very character of this game which is loved by so many. From the sheer joy and chaos of Michael Holding’s childhood games in , to Michael Clarke’s definition of what the culture of the famous ‘’ means to him, this book takes us both onto the field and beyond the . As the legendary English umpire Harold ‘Dickie’ Bird attests, cricket’s ‘lies in the stories within the game’. There are many to be enjoyed within these pages.

4 Prologue Arthur Morris ‘Man of the hour’

Author’s note: The seed for this project was sown more than a decade ago. In contemplating a book featuring firsthand accounts of iconic Test matches, immediate thoughts went to capturing one of the final threads remaining that linked arguably the most emphatic chase in history to the game’s most famous name – Sir Donald Bradman. Arthur Morris provided that treasured link when he agreed to an interview in 2004. With good grace and sharp memory, the former opener recalled the famous fourth Ashes Test of 1948, in , that lionised Australia’s ‘Invincibles’. The book project was subsequently shelved as life got in the way, but rekindled a few years ago with the support of the LBW Trust. With Morris having passed away in 2015 at of 93, this previously unpublished interview appears with the blessing of Arthur’s wife, Judith.

The cherubic appearance of Arthur Morris may have offered the promise of an unimposing adversary. But only for the unwary. Fast feet, a keen eye, an unflappable air and a wicked wit armed this fair- skinned, curly- haired batsman with the tools to the world’s best bowlers and endear teammates. As an 18-year-old, the left- hander scored unprecedented twin centuries in his first-class debut on the eve of World War II. After serving in , he made his Test debut in 1946, three centuries in his first Ashes series. A fierce hooker with brilliant footwork, he led the plunder on Australia’s famed 1948 tour, scoring 696 runs at an average of 87 over the test series. In the fourth Test at Headingley, with Australia needing 404

5 Arthur Morris hones his skills in the nets on the 1948 Ashes tour (Central Press/Getty Images) PROLOGUE for victory on a deteriorating final-day wicket, he proved a man of the hour and ensured his name will echo through the ages by sharing a stand of 301 with Bradman. ‘He showed that day every quality demanded of the real champion,’ Bradman wrote in Farewell to Cricket. ‘A rock-like defence, powerful but studied aggression and a perfect temperament. Considering the situation and the state of the wicket, I doubt if a more valuable was ever played.’ Morris later captained Australia in two of his 46 Tests and in 1955 with an average of 46.48 – a fine feat for an opener in an era of uncovered pitches, small bats and big boundaries. He estimated the state of the pitches was probably worth five runs at the time of this interview. ‘You’d get great satisfaction out of scoring 50 or 60 on difficult pitches, even though it didn’t do your statistics much good,’ he said. ‘I remember I got 60 [out of 123] on a wet pitch at in the first Test in 1953 and I’d rate that as one of my most satisfying efforts.’ , the last surviving ‘Invincible’, described Morris as a great team man with a great sense of humour. This was illustrated when, just before his death, Judith asked why the SCG were naming gates in his honour; Morris replied, ‘Because I was an opener.’

Australia v England: 4th Test, Headingley Stadium, Leeds, 22–27 July 1948 For all the fanfare that exists, wading through the run chase that rewrote history is a path pitted with titillating but unreliable detours. It’s cricket’s classic murder scene, witnessed by thousands, but with hard evidence eroded by clouds of sentiment and the sands of time. Perpetuating rumours – fed by those keen to canonise a team and a captain of already mythical proportions – have blurred what happened with what could have happened, to make an even neater story.

7 PROLOGUE

Best, then, to get it straight from the horse’s mouth. Even better that the man most responsible for the hubbub, Arthur Morris, is, as English commentator once wrote, ‘charming, philosophical and relaxed’. Morris’s opening contention fits the mould of an audacious escape that left surprisingly little trace. ‘The funny thing is, I’ve never seen any film of that Test match,’ he said. ‘There were enormous crowds at Leeds and by the time the final day came about, everyone was going crazy – it had been built up as such a big event in the media because it looked as though we were going to get beaten. Perhaps when we won they went back and burnt the footage, because it’s quite amazing that there doesn’t seem to be any about.’ No matter. The dried ink of a famous scorebook and reliable thoughts of a gifted, unpretentious cricketer will serve us well enough. England dominated early after winning the , with (81) and Cyril Washbrook (143) registering an opening stand of 168. continued their good work, bringing up his on day two and, further frustrating the Australians, hit a career-high 79. At one stage England was 2 for 423, but and all-rounder wiled away to dismiss the home side for 496. Australia lost Morris for just six late on day two and when captured and Bradman cheaply the next morning, the visitors were reeling at 3 for 68. The boundless and a 19-year-old Neil Harvey, playing his first Test against England, came to the rescue, but not before Harvey missed successive deliveries early on. Miller reportedly strolled down the pitch, put his arm around the nervous left-hander and suggested he try and middle a few before opening his shoulders. From there they added 121 before Miller fell for 58. Harvey, with a near flawless 112, registered another century stand with Loxton, who fell within sight of a century. ‘Harvey and Loxton really brought things about for us,’ Morris recalled. ‘Neil’s innings was obviously a great one and everyone tends to talk about it, but Sam’s knock was just as brilliant. Unfortunately,

8 PROLOGUE he tried to hit ‘a seven’ when he was 93 and got out. He tried to belt it over the grandstand.’ Legend has it that upon returning to the dressing room, Loxton was chided for missing his ton by Sir , who was between stints as Australia’s prime minister. The affable all-rounder reportedly replied, ‘We all make mistakes, Sir. I’d guess you’ve made a few.’ It’s a likely exchange, according to Morris: ‘I wouldn’t doubt that for a minute – it sounds like the sort of thing Sam would say. He was involved in politics and ended up being a whip for the Liberal Party, so he was actually quite friendly with the Prime Minister. They stick together, those Victorians.’ ’s 77 helped wag Australia’s tail to post 458, just 38 runs in arrears. However, on day four, Hutton and Washbrook again wrestled the initiative England’s way with another century stand. Edrich and compiled half centuries and the lower order provided nuisance value, leaving England 400 ahead with two wickets in hand by stumps. ‘It was quite hard work for us because our attack was based on speed, and on such a slow wicket our boys did it tough,’ Morris said. ‘Ernie Toshack was our only recognised slower bowler and even he wasn’t really a spinner. To make matters worse, I think he broke down at some stage during the Test [he didn’t bowl in the second innings] and England batted very well in that game.’ Various accounts suggest Bradman instructed his team to adopt an aggressive stance on the fifth morning and chase victory from the start of play, but it’s a flawed theory. ‘That’s not true,’ Morris confirmed. ‘I think that’s a case of journalists taking licence. Maybe once the “Invincibles” tag came along and there was so much talk about how successful the tour was, it mightn’t have looked good to write that the captain feared defeat. But that’s the way it was. No team had ever scored that many runs [in the fourth innings of a Test to win], the pitch wasn’t great and the ball was turning. I assure you there was no thought of winning the game at the start of the day – our thoughts were on trying to save the match.’

9 PROLOGUE

Indeed, Bradman supposedly told the team’s bus driver to ensure the coach was back at the ground by midafternoon, in anticipation of an early finish. England’s captain, , surprised many pundits by on for five minutes on the final day, so he could request the heavy roller in an attempt to further break up the pitch. And so Australia was set 404 to win in under six hours. They’d reached 57 before Hassett gave Compton a return catch, signalling Bradman’s last innings on a ground where in previous Tests he’d scored 334, 304, 103 and 16. An adoring public had turned out in droves, with the five-day crowd figure of 158,000 an attendance record for any match in England. The diminutive figure, complete with police escort, emerged from a tunnel of spectators that stretched almost three-quarters of the way to the pitch. Hats and cushions were thrown into the air during a standing ovation that Bradman was to later describe as the greatest reception he received anywhere in the world. ‘He was given a tremendous reception – it was quite extraordinary,’ Morris recalled. ‘Of course, everyone there thought England was going to win at the time, so maybe it would have been more like a funeral than a wedding if they’d known we were going to spoil the party. But the English crowds were very gracious and they treated us very well.’ Morris and Bradman knuckled down to the task of negating the duel threat of and Compton, while the deteriorating pitch kept everyone guessing. ‘The wicket took a lot of spin but it was slow spin,’ Morris said. ‘I remember [English wicketkeeper] saying after the match that it was hard to blame the bowlers for not being accurate because he found that sometimes the ball spun a lot and sometimes it didn’t, so the bowlers didn’t quite know where to pitch it. I found that a funny thing to say because if that was the case for the bowlers, then what hope did the batsmen have of knowing what the ball would do? I’d suggest it was difficult for us as well. ‘We just tried to consolidate in the morning session because we’d

10 PROLOGUE lost Lindsay and it was a matter of getting through to lunch without too much damage, because if you get to a stage of being three or four wickets down, psychologically, you’re just scraping around trying to save the game. We played very carefully throughout that morning session.’ For most of it, anyway. When Yardley introduced the part-time spin of Hutton in the half- hour before lunch, the pair clobbered 62 runs. By lunch, Australia was 1 for 121 and the unconquered batsmen adopted a simple strategy: ‘We had a bit of a chat about it and our plan, as it nearly always was, was to go along and play things by ear and make any adjustments as we went along.’ One such ‘adjustment’ saw Morris launch a withering assault on Compton shortly after the interval, which yielded 30 runs from two overs. Unbeknown to many at the time, it was a calculated offensive launched to protect his captain. ‘Don was having a bit of trouble picking Compton’s wrong-’un, so I got into him,’ Morris explained. ‘We saw him as the main danger. Although he wasn’t a regular bowler at Test level, Compton got a lot of wickets for and the pitch at Leeds suited him. I thought if we really got at him, not being a regular bowler, he wouldn’t quite know where to pitch them – and that turned out to be the case. ‘I had to laugh later on, though. When describing Bradman’s innings, [former Australian Test cricketer turned scribe] wrote that he was unlucky to have missed out on two very untidy overs from Compton! I’d stuck my neck out a bit to go after him, but that didn’t rate a mention. All that shows is how easy it is to play the game from the outside.’ The Australians were merciless in the middle session, both registering centuries on the way to taking their side to a commanding 1 for 288 at tea. ‘We really gave them a thump during that period,’ he said. ‘It was probably halfway through that session that it came to our minds that we can actually win this. Yardley was going for the win, of course, so he had to put his fielders in close. If you got the ball past the infield you were almost guaranteed a four and that’s evident in the fact that I hit 20 boundaries in my hundred [and 33 in total].’

11 PROLOGUE

Laker, too, copped a fearful barrage (eventually finishing with 0 for 93). ‘We destroyed Laker at one stage. In fact, I read somewhere that I was responsible for putting him out of for two years. I’m not sure if that’s totally true but we did get stuck into him. I liked playing against off-spinners actually, which is a little unusual for a left- hander, I suppose. But I found on slow pitches such as Leeds, as long as your footwork was good, you could go down the pitch and play off the front foot to negate the spin, or move right back and give yourself time to see what the ball was going to do.’ As the match wore on, England’s decision not to select a second specialist spinner came back to haunt them. Their also deteriorated. Morris survived a tough stumping chance in his 50s and a dropped catch on 126, while Bradman is reported to have been missed in the slips and at deep point before reaching 60, along with another stumping chance before tea when on 107. While acknowledging luck played a part in their partnership, Morris suggested excuses rather than execution were the root cause of such negative British press. ‘I tried to play a ball across to the on side and the way I played it, my body would have covered the ball until the last instant,’ he said. ‘The ball turned and jumped and hit Godfrey in the chest, so it was hardly a missed chance. The catch? Well, I think Laker stuck his finger out to one I hit pretty well and he might have got a touch on it, but I had no thought of being . ‘The press harped on the fact Bradman was dropped as well but it was a very low and chance in the slips. If those opportunities had been missed on any other day they wouldn’t have rated a mention. The English press were expecting a win and when they didn’t get it, they looked for every possible excuse under the sun. It obviously didn’t occur to them that we might have batted reasonably well. We tore the shitter out of them and all we read about was how, if England had bowled well and taken their chances, they would have won the match. But it doesn’t worry me, it’s laughable.’ Morris did eventually fall for 182 (not getting over the top of an

12 PROLOGUE attempted pull shot and hitting a catch to mid-on), but with less than 50 needed, a historic victory was all but assured. Miller came and went before Harvey hit the winning runs with 15 minutes to spare – an honour that some reports suggested Bradman afforded to the Victorian teenager. ‘That’s an enticing sentiment, but I don’t think it’s true,’ Morris said. ‘Don was the captain and he deserved to hit the winning runs himself and I’m sure he would have had the opportunity come up. I’m amazed they [journalists] think of these things!’ And what of Bradman’s muscle spasms, an affliction that has entered folklore when his undefeated innings of 173 is recalled, wrapped in a romantic mist? ‘He seemed to be running all right to me – he was galloping pretty quickly between the wickets from what I can remember! And when they put Hutton on to bowl, who used to roll his arm over in the nets occasionally but wasn’t exactly a frontline bowler, he didn’t seem too keen to give up the strike. I couldn’t get a start down the other end because Don was giving him a real whack!’ That tour, of course, was Bradman’s swansong, while Morris was a star on the rise, having outscored his celebrated skipper in that series and returned home with a Test average of 74 at that stage of his career. But batting with ‘the Don’ never lost its lustre. ‘Don was marvellous; we had a good relationship when it came to batting together,’ Morris said. ‘I think we were both pretty good runners and good callers, because we shared a few big partnerships and we never ran each other out from memory. We didn’t talk that much because there wasn’t much to say – we knew what we needed to do and we trusted each other. It was just a matter of grinding away.’ Did he ever get sick of people asking him about Bradman? After all, his iconic teammate was responsible for Morris registering perhaps the most underappreciated century ever during the next Test – Bradman’s last – at . It’s a tale he’s happy to playfully recount. ‘I was at a business luncheon a number of years afterwards and somehow the conversation got onto Bradman and how he scored a

13 , bowled by for a in his final Test, with Arthur Morris at the non-striker’s end (Central Press/Getty Images) duck in his last Test. I mentioned I was there and the conversation went:

“Oh, really, were you over there on business?” “No, I was playing.” “What? You played for Australia?” “Yes. As a matter of fact, I was at the other end when Don got out.” “Really! Wow. Well, how did you go? Did you get any runs?” “Got a few. I scored 196.”

‘I’ve found it’s best to be as nonchalant as you can in that situation. It’s quite amusing, but I don’t mind. As far as I’m concerned it was a great honour to play with Bradman.’ Morris, of course, can provide unique perspective on one of the most famous deliveries in history – when Bradman was dismissed for the final time, denying him the four runs required to record a Test average of 100.

14 PROLOGUE

‘Eric Hollies was a pretty good finger spinner, he bowled very accurately,’ he said. ‘If he played out here [in Australia], he’d hardly spin it an inch, but the wicket was pretty damp that day and it was taking spin. ‘First of all he bowled a good leg spinner that Don played away comfortably enough. Then he bowled a wrong-’un – well pitched – it was a very good ball actually. Don might have got a little touch on it but it went straight through and that was it. All over. It was quite strange, really, the whole place just went incredibly quiet. Then someone piped up with a “jolly well bowled” and off he walked.’ Cue the man of the hour (who actually batted for almost seven hours on this occasion) and who, as it turned out, wouldn’t have minded another four runs himself. ‘When you see Don walk off for a duck, you know you’ve got some work to do,’ Morris said. ‘So, I put my head down and ended up with 196. I was trying to retain the strike after pushing one down to third man. I was convinced I’d made my ground but the umpire thought otherwise. Maybe he thought, This bloke’s been out here for two days, that will do him.

15

MORNING SESSION Debut up to 1975 Alan Davidson, circa 1960, the year of the famous tied Test (Central Press/Getty Images) Alan Davidson ‘A captain’s dream’

It was an era of Brylcreem, black-and-white photographs and six- week boat trips to England. A time when news of your firstborn child came via a telegram under your hotel door during a Test match, which simply said, ‘Betty and baby well’. Alan Davidson, at 86, recounts stories from yesteryear with much fondness and without a stumble. They’re dosed in nostalgia, laced with statistics and peppered with legends of the era – Len Hutton, Garry Sobers, , Peter May, Keith Miller and, of course, his great mate Richie Benaud. It’s a rollicking ride for any cricket tragic. Old eyes sparkle, the work ethic of a strapping farm boy is evident, his voice falters with emotion on a few rare but memorable occasions, his endearing loyalty and strong moral compass shine through, and there’s a hint of mongrel and mischief, amid mutterings of the ‘Victorian mafia’ and people who ‘wouldn’t have a bloody clue’. Fair play to him. After 66 years’ service to the game, he’s earned the right to robust opinion. While Davidson’s statistics are compelling and legacy assured ( [NSW] schoolboys play for the Alan Davidson Shield and SCG patrons walk through the Alan Davidson Gate), he is not always included among the greats, his feats perhaps diluted by the dash and daring of Miller and enduring popularity of Benaud. But he left an indelible mark on those he played with and against, and evidently, on the chairman of selectors during his career. Sir Donald Bradman, in the foreword to Davidson’s autobiography, wrote, ‘Great players are either performers or entertainers. Davidson was both.’ A left-arm paceman with trademark late swing, he was both penetrative (his average of 20.53 is the best in history of anyone who

19 MORNING SESSION played more than 40 Tests) and miserly, with an economy rate of just 1.97 runs per over. He was also an aggressive late-order batsman and such a dynamic fieldsman he was nicknamed ‘the Claw’. Sobers described him as lightning fast ‘when the mood took him’, while Miller said he batted according to the tempo of the game. In short, he was a captain’s dream, as alluded to by Benaud in his autobiography: ‘Not only was he a great wicket-taker, but the pressure he applied with his accuracy allowed me great scope with tactics.’ Benaud was never one to exaggerate, so gravitas must be given to his assertion that Davidson was ‘one of the greatest cricketers ever to set foot on a ground for NSW and Australia’. Davidson’s finest performance came in arguably the greatest game of all: the tied Test of 1960, when he became the first player to score 100 runs and take 10 wickets in a Test, etching his name in history. In that famous series against the West Indies, he averaged 30.28 with the bat and 18.55 with the ball. More broadly, historians credit him and Benaud for dragging Australia from the mire in the late ’50s. But for old time’s sake, let’s indulge in a final nip of nostalgia, aboard the boat to England in 1961. Conducting filming for the BBC, commentator opined to Benaud that England had the upper hand due to the accuracy of . The Australian captain ventured that he had a bloke just as good and, to prove it, summoned Davidson to the makeshift practice nets on the deck. ‘I was wearing swimmers and a pair of sandals,’ Davidson recounted keenly. ‘Johnston asked me to knock over the off , so I did that, and then he asked me to knock over the leg stump, so I did that. Richie said, “What do you think about that?” and Johnno replied, “The middle one is still there,” so I knocked that over too. Then I picked up my towel and walked away. Nothing more was said.’

Alan Davidson has been a director of various sporting, medical, corporate and philanthropic organisations, including Surf Life Saving Australia (http://sls.com.au), Australian Red Cross (www.redcross.org .au), Legacy Australia (www.legacy.com.au) and the ANZAC Health and Medical Research Foundation (www.anzac.edu.au).

20 ALAN DAVIDSON

Matches Career Wickets Average Best 44 1953–63 186 20.53 7/93 TESTS 5w/10w Runs Average Highest 100s/50s 14/2 1328 24.59 80 -/5

MY WORD My first Test wicket was . . . Len Hutton at Nottingham in 1953. Lindsay Hassett was our captain and I’d asked him if I could have Richie [Benaud] a fraction wider at gully. You wouldn’t believe it – two overs later, Hutton went for a drive and holed out to Richie. Hutton was the most correct player I ever played against. I learnt to bat by to Hutton.

The best advice I ever got as a young cricketer was . . . from my grandfather, a beautiful old cricketer, who taught me that, above all, you have to love the game and play in the spirit of cricket at all times. Unfortunately, in many cases today that spirit is a myth.

If I had to choose someone to bat for my life, I’d go with . . . Neil Harvey. He’s the best I ever played with. Bradman’s footwork was incredible and Harvey’s was easily the next best. To see him bat on a bad wicket was amazing. He was never in his life, yet no-one spent more time out of his crease playing spin than Neil Harvey.

The fastest spell of bowling I ever faced was . . . Frank Tyson in a Sydney Test [in 1954]. The wicket was a bit undulating and he was terrifying. I rank Frank in the top three or four fast bowlers I’ve seen.

The key to bowling on a flat track is . . . to never fight the track. You actually allow it to help you by using variations of pace.

I couldn’t believe it when I got to play with . . . my heroes. , the wicketkeeper, was my hero, and I always wanted to meet Ray

21 MORNING SESSION

Lindwall and Keith Miller. When I was selected to go to New Zealand in 1950 for Australia’s Second XI, my first wicket was ‘caught Tallon, bowled Davidson’.

The greatest innings I ever witnessed was . . . ’s innings at Lord’s in 1961 when he scored a century on what was called ‘the ridge’. You had to see the number of times he was struck. At the end of the day’s play, I saw Bill in the shower and the whole of his right side was black with bruising. I’ve never seen anyone take the punishment he did. Any great innings is all about context and that was the epitome of playing for your country. It was an innings of enormous courage and never once did he rub I’ve never seen anyone take the spot where he got hit – the punishment he did. he refused to give the bowlers that satisfaction.

The main trait I had as a cricketer was . . . if I got dropped from a side, I wanted to prove selectors wrong. I got dropped from the state side once, and the next week, I played in a two-day game against the chairman of selector’s club. I had the great privilege of beating them outright in one day, taking 14 wickets, two catches and a run-out.

The funniest thing I ever saw on a cricket field was . . . during a Test at The Oval in 1953 when Gill Langley, our wicketkeeper, went to squat down and ripped his pants apart. Keith Miller had just had his pants dry-cleaned and had a safety pin, so he told him to bend over and was putting the pin in the back of Gill’s pants when an Aussie voice from the outer yelled, ‘Hold on a second, Keith, I’ve got a nappy.’ It was the funniest thing .$.$. very Australian.

The most underutilised part of a fast bowler’s arsenal is . . . the use of the return crease. Bowlers nowadays go around the wicket, which requires a change of action. That means you’re the one making the change when you should be forcing the batsman to make a change. If you use the return crease, you don’t change your action but you’re changing the angle.

22 ALAN DAVIDSON

If I’d had the chance to play 20/20 cricket . . . it would’ve been nice to make a quid given I played in the days of slavery! But to me it’s just a slog, like playing rounders. Yes, it’s entertaining and my skills would have been perfect for it, but I’ll stick to traditional cricket.

You hear a lot about reverse swing these days. When I was playing . . . we called it bowling ‘Irish’. Some days it would dip and other days it wouldn’t when the ball was old. I remember getting lbw [] at Lord’s with a reverse swing .

One thing that riles me about the modern game is . . . . In our day, there was a lot of banter and a lot said, but it was never personal . If a wicket was taken, you never ran up the pitch and waved your fist in front of a player. To me, that’s where the spirit of cricket is lacking. There are a few bowlers now who are way If a wicket was taken, over the top. I can imagine if you never ran up the they were around in the days pitch and waved your fst in front of a player. of Keith Miller, a few of them might’ve ended up with the raw end of his bat.

The player who loved a chat was . . . Freddie Trueman. He never shut up. I remember one game when I played and missed about four times in a row and he said, ‘When are you going to so-and-so snick one?’ I replied, ‘When you bowl a so-and-so straight one.’ He said, ‘I don’t know how!’ And that was about right, because according to Fred every ball he ever bowled either cut a foot this way or swung a foot that way. There was no such thing as a straight ball in Fred’s vocabulary.

Growing up, the player who captured my imagination was . . . Keith Miller, because I wanted to be an all-rounder. He had charisma. There was something about him that wanted you to play more cricket and play the game with him.

The best bloke to tour with was . . . , who was a great roommate. And Slasher [Ken] Mackay. Slasher was the driest character you could

23 MORNING SESSION ever imagine. One day, there was a certain bowler who just kept saying, ‘I’ll kill ya, I’ll kill ya,’ and Slasher just kept chewing his gum and marking his crease until finally, after about three overs, he looked up and said, ‘I don’t think so.’ After another three overs of bouncers with the bloke still raging, ‘I’m going to kill ya,’ Slasher said, ‘I know who’s getting tired first.’ Of course the bloke just went berserk.

I can’t believe they’re still talking about . . . the tied Test [between Australia and the West Indies in 1960]. But it was unique and it was the greatest series I ever played in.

The bowler I found toughest to face was . . . Alec Bedser, who had superb because he bowled 1200 overs a season in . Now we have professors walking around saying you mustn’t bowl more than 30 or 40 balls in a row, otherwise you’re going to break down.

The batsman I found toughest to dismiss . . . [varied.] Hutton was technically the best, but the bloke I hated to bowl to was . You try to manoeuvre batsmen around the crease and I’d try to get Ted to a certain point and he’d just look up and smile at me and I’d have to start all over again! To bowl to Harvey in his prime against Victoria was absolute murder. Sobers, in his day .$.$. well, you couldn’t do much with him, especially if the track was dead. And you never wanted to get Kenny Barrington cranky, otherwise you’d never get him out.

The most masterful shot in cricket was . . . the way Norm O’Neill hit a ball back past a bowler off the back foot. I’d play defensively to a ball he’d hit to the boundary. He had the most beautiful, correct straight bat on the back foot and that’s where 90 per cent of the problems come for today’s batsmen, because they play off the front foot. I would love to bowl to the current players for that reason.

The win that gave me the most satisfaction was . . . in 1961 when we beat England on their own dungheap. I’d been to England in ’53 and ’56 without luck. Peter May was the England captain and

24 ALAN DAVIDSON

Richie was ours and it was just beautiful cricket, similar to the tied Test series against the West Indies. Two captains and two sides that wanted to play good cricket.

As a national selector . . . if you know your players, you only need 20 minutes to tell whether or not they’re in form. I’d rather watch Mark Waugh bat for quarter of an hour than someone else for two hours, because that’s like the most beautiful music ever made. I got great joy from bringing through a player like , who was extremely gifted but a little unorthodox. You have to be careful because when you try to change a natural player into a correct player, you destroy the very thing that makes him valuable.

One thing I’m proud of is . . . my service to cricket, which is now in its 66th year. I started with NSW in 1949 and when I finished playing, I was vice-president for three years and president for 33. I’ve been patron ever since for the past 12 years.

I would like to be remembered as a cricketer who . . . entertained. Because if a spectator enjoyed what I did as much as I did, then I’d be really happy. I enjoyed my cricket, enjoyed playing an aggressive . When you see a crowd’s reaction, like in my last Test when I was next into bat, the crowd chanting, ‘We want Davo, we want Davo,’ it leaves you with a pretty good feeling.

TEST OF CHARACTER ‘Today you’ve made history’ Australia v West Indies: 1st Test, Gabba, Brisbane, 9–14

Setting the scene . . . The day before the Test, Richie was smashing balls at us in catching practice and I copped one on the little finger of my bowling hand and broke the top joint. Bradman gave me a fitness test the next morning and, while the finger was black, I found I was still able to bowl. Under today’s regime I would have been ruled out. I used to go into a game early in the season in Brisbane about five pound

25 MORNING SESSION overweight, because I knew with the humidity up there, I’d lose that weight. Being ready for that first Test was like a trainer setting a horse for a specific race.

Memorable performances . . . There were so many great individual performances in that Test match. Sobers scored a magnificent hundred and, in response, Norm O’Neill scored an incredible century. Then on the last day, when was bowling in new boots, he had blisters on his feet caused by his socks rolling up and down. He got some scissors, cut out a blister the size of a coffee cup, put sticking plaster across the whole lot and bowled without socks. To bowl like he did in the last over that day, to me, was one of the great performances in cricket.

My contribution . . . I just did my job. There are always moments in your life when you’ve got to stand up. In that series, I took 25 wickets and about 20 of them were the top six batsmen. In the second innings of that Test, I knocked Sobers over pretty cheaply with a . I was that happy I did a Catherine wheel [cartwheel] in the middle of the pitch, because in the first innings Richie dropped him off my bowling when he was 13. I had a plan to bowl to him a certain way in that second dig and then change my pace up with a fast yorker, which castled him. It’s pretty satisfying when a plan like that actually comes off. I thought my work was over after I got six wickets in that innings, but all of a sudden we’re five down [for 57, chasing 233 to win] and I’m batting.

Defining moments . . . On that last day, Bradman asked Richie at the tea break [with Australia needing 123 to win with four wickets in hand], ‘What are you going to do?’ and Richie said, ‘We’re playing to win,’ which we’d decided when we were coming off. Bradman replied, ‘I’m pleased to hear that.’ We had a go at everything after tea and got to the stage where we should have won. I was run out but there was only half a run in it; Usain Bolt wouldn’t have got there. I’d said to Richie the previous over, ‘Make sure I’m down that end for Wes’s last over because if he bowls a , I’ll hit it for four.’ As it turned out,

26 ALAN DAVIDSON the first ball he bowled to Richie in that last over was a bouncer that Richie tried to hook – and he couldn’t hook – and got caught behind. That’s cricket!

Lasting impressions . . . It should have come off, but it didn’t and, as Bradman said, ‘Today you’ve made history.’ It wasn’t just that it was the first – that series revolutionised cricket around the world because you had two teams playing such positive cricket. We drew a crowd of 93,000 for the last Test in , which was incredible because crowds were dropping off like flies before that series. And we got on so well. On the Friday night of the Sydney Test, my wife picked up five West Indians and there were seven of us in our Holden on the way to the Harold Park trots. I was privileged to play in that period. There was euphoria around that game that formed a bond that still exists today. We don’t shake hands whenever we see each other, we go into a bear hug, even after more than 50 years.

West Indies 453 (GS Sobers 132, FM Worrell 65, JS Solomon 65, FC Alexander 60; AK Davidson 5/135, LF Kline 3/52) Australia 505 (NC O’Neill 181, RB Simpson 92, CC McDonald 57, LE Favell 45, AK Davidson 44; WW Hall 4/140) West Indies 284 (FM Worrell 65, RB Kanhai 54; AK Davidson 6/87) Australia 232 (AK Davidson 80, R Benaud 52; WW Hall 5/63)

Match tied.

FACE UP In a tour match in New Zealand in 1950 playing for an Australian Second XI, you took 10 for 29 in the first innings, then scored 157 to reportedly become only the second person in the history of the game to achieve an astonishing double. Were you aware of the magnitude of the feat at the time? I was 80 not out overnight and at dinner someone said it had only been done by EM Grace back in about 1860 in a 15-a-side game, so they said I had a chance to set a record. Well, I never slept. When I was

27 MORNING SESSION on 99, I was batting with and I’d driven a ball to long-off on the fence and ran down the pitch for my single, but Billy stayed put and yelled, ‘Get back to your crease.’ I just beat the throw back to avoid being run out on 99. Billy said, ‘Let’s do it in style.’ A couple of balls later, I got a short one and pulled it through mid wicket for four. He said, ‘Now, that’s what I call a hundred.’

You spearheaded Australia’s attack for the first time on the South African tour of 1957–58, taking 6 for 34 in the second innings of the opening Test, after narrowly avoiding being sent home for breaking a team curfew. What are your memories of that emotional roller-coaster? That was the first time I got the new ball for Australia. Miller had retired and Lindwall didn’t get picked for that tour. I’d played 12 Tests and got 16 wickets to that point, and then in the next 32, I took 170, after getting hold of the new ball. That tour provided both Richie and I with the opportunity we needed to exploit our talents – we were no longer second or third stringers. The curfew? It was nonsense. There was nothing in it and I’d rather not talk about it. We’d just missed a 10 p.m. curfew and the lads told us we were in trouble. I went out and took 6 for 34 before lunch. That night, the curfew was put to a vote and unanimously discarded. We were grown men being treated like schoolboys.

You took 41 wickets at an average of 18 across two tours of India and , yet you once asked the chairman of selectors, Sir Donald Bradman, if it was compulsory to tour the Subcontinent. Presumably you’re glad he knocked you back? We were playing the Poms in and I’d gone over on my ankle, so I went to the nets the next morning to see how it was. I didn’t know the little fella [Bradman] was watching, but when I was walking back, I saw him up ahead. As a team, we’d been discussing how tough it was to tour India and Pakistan – in those days there was no hygiene, the were one and a half stars at best and you couldn’t touch the food. So I trotted up beside him and said, ‘Hey Don, is it compulsory to go to India and Pakistan later in the year?’ His reply was, ‘You’ve retired, have you?’ I stammered, ‘No Don. Oh, no, no, no,’ to which

28 ALAN DAVIDSON he said, ‘Good. And when you get up to the room, you might tell the others, too.’ We’re the only team to have played Pakistan and India in a series on the one tour and we won both. And that was in the days of no neutral umpires. I got one lbw among my 41 wickets.

Your career-best figures of 7 for 93 came in the second innings of a Test in India when you bowled unchanged for an entire day in 38-degree heat, reportedly losing 11 pounds during the match. Does that efort make you scratch your head when it comes to the modern trend of wellness charts and resting bowlers? It was a plasticine wicket. I bowled medium to medium-quick most of the time because the ball never bounced as high as this table. I used the return crease, changed my pace, bowled fast and cutters .$.$. everything. I bowled 57 overs unchanged because I was taking wickets – and that didn’t count the blokes I was hitting on the pads! That’s just what I did. If Richie had said he wanted me to bowl at both ends, that’s what I would have done. You do what your captain tells you to. I was a zombie by the finish, but I just kept telling myself, ‘Back foot, front arm,’ because the positioning of my foot and using my arm as a pendulum were the secrets to my bowling. I don’t think the modern bowlers bowl enough. The only way to learn to bowl is to bowl. Fast bowlers need rest and rotation like a hole in the head. Ray Lindwall gave me a great piece of advice and that was, when you go to the nets, only bowl at 75 or 80 per cent [of your] full power. That way, you’re preparing your body but not straining your body. Then, if you’ve got a good technique, there’s no problem going from 80 per cent to 90 per cent; and 100 per cent effort only comes when you’re bowling a yorker or bouncer. I learnt the art of bowling from Ray Lindwall.

You had a special bond with Richie Benaud. As training partners during the 1957 of-season you made a pact to bowl continuously for up to three hours daily. In Tests, you often bowled in tandem and produced match-saving partnerships with the bat. Is there a performance or comment that captures the essence of the man? Richie and I decided we’d get to training at 3.30 and from four o’clock

29 MORNING SESSION to 6.30, we’d bowl unchanged to get used to bowling the equivalent of at least 20 overs straight. By the end of it we were very aware of our technique. We first played against each other when we were 14 and 15 and from the ages of 19 to 34 there was hardly a game we didn’t play together for state or country. The bond we had was unbelievable. He never instructed a player how to play. He’d just say, ‘Good luck,’ if you were going out to bat. If I was bowling, he’d say, ‘What do you want?’ and I’d set my field. He might come back after five or six overs, put his arm around me, which the journalists thought was him trying to cajole me into bowling another over, but all he’d say was, ‘Should we try something else?’ He started the dinners before a match, where players were free to express their thoughts, but once you got in the dressing room or on the paddock, there was only one person in charge. He drew a team together and was a great judge of players’ capabilities – that was one of his greatest assets.

As president of the NSW Cricket Association for 33 years, you were known to demonstrate your to lunch guests with bread rolls. Is it true that your theory behind your prodigious swing stems from a kangaroo’s tail? Well, when you hold a ball, your fingers are the front legs of a kangaroo and your thumb is the tail. What’s a kangaroo do when he wants to change direction? His tail goes to the other side. If you’re trying to swing the ball, your thumb should go to one side or the other and, of course, you angle the ball as well. It’s as simple as bloody ABC, but 90 per cent of modern bowlers bowl with their third finger up against the side of the ball, which disrupts its trajectory. If you bowl with the knuckle just resting on the back like I did, the seam stays straight. I don’t really get invited to talk to players these days, but if someone was interested over lunch, I didn’t mind giving them a demonstration. Mind you, those long bread rolls made things a bit difficult; the little round ones were perfect!

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