Crickets a funny game. When Flem asked me to pen a few words for his latest book, I was a little surprised. Id made the same request to him back in 2007, only to be told by his media manager (in other words, his missus) that Damien is a little too busy to help out at the present time. Too busy doing what? Calling Ryobi Cup matches with Mark Waugh? I dont think so.
But Warwick Todd is not a man to harbour a grudge. Unless it involves Arjuna Ranatunga. And Im big enough to let bygones be bygones. So once we had settled on the terms (a mention in the thankyous and cash up front), I was happy to oblige. Here it is then.
Flem is a top bloke. Amongst the very, very top. Whats more, hes an Aussie cricketer who always gave his all 110 per cent, no matter what the circumstances. In fact, the only time I saw Flem drop his work rate was during a one-dayer in 98, and that was probably due to some arrangement he had with an Indian bookmaker.
Hes also a good writer, and Im sure this latest publication will be full of fascinating insights, along with another retelling of that bloody hat-trick in Adelaide. Anyways, I wholeheartedly endorse this book of humorous anecdotes/coaching tips/wistful recollections/angry complaints (strike out whichever are not applicable), and I urge you to buy a copy before theyre all dumped in a discount bin at some school fete.
Good on ya, mate.
P.S. We did say cash up front Still waiting.
Chapter 1
Four Life Goals
When I was a kid, Dennis Lillee was up there with Superman, Batman and Muhammad Ali he was a cricketing superhero. He didnt leap tall buildings in a single bound or drive a batmobile, but his superpowers involved a fast outswinger, cutters, yorkers, bouncers, amazing endurance, determination and charisma. Who cared if he batted with an aluminium bat? If Dennis did it, it was all right by me and every other kid in Australia.
The first day of Test cricket I attended was with my dad, Ian, back on 27 December 1981. Australia was playing the West Indies at the mighty MCG, and I was hoping to see DK break the world record number of Test wickets, then held by Lance Gibbs with 309.
The night before, after a classic hundred from Kim Hughes and his Slazenger Ton which was my first ever bat (Dennis didnt endorse bats well, not wooden ones), Australia had just a few overs to bowl, but it was enough for Dennis to demolish the West Indian top order. When he bowled Viv Richards with the last ball of the day a leg-cutter dragged onto the stumps the West Indies was 4/10 and the entire country went berserk. It was one of the greatest moments I can ever remember in cricket. People were screaming, dancing, celebrating long after the ball was bowled, and waiting for the next day was like waiting for Christmas.
Getting to the worlds greatest sporting colosseum, the mighty MCG, the next day (very early) was a dream. The atmosphere was like nothing I had ever experienced. It was pure euphoria watching my idol bowl a ball in the Doorway to Departure, and we didnt have to wait too long before he had mustard man Jeffrey Dujon out. This was fast bowling at its best. Superman live.
Then Larry Gomes nicked a ball to Greg Chappell, who effortlessly took the catch.
That dismissal was Lillees 310th and made him the highest wicket-taker in Test history. Sorry, Lance. The thing that stood out most for me, as an 11-year-old, was the crowd noise. The chant of LILLEE, LILLEE! was famous and ubiquitous in those days, but I swear it went on for 15 minutes after he got Gomes out. It was unbelievable. Like being at an enormous rock concert with the crowd demanding an encore.
My hero, Dennis Lillee, had that much self-belief he was already clapping his delivery in mid-action.
The fans didnt let up, chanting through every ball of Terry Aldermans next over. The great man was so overcome by having reached the milestone that he walked down in front of us at third man even though he was fielding at fine leg.
So my idol, with his thinning hair held in tight by his yellow headband, and the famous golden cricket bat dangling on his hairy chest, was standing RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME. It was like a religious experience, and I knew there and then what I wanted to do with my life. I was going to be a Test cricketer. A fast bowler just like DK, although maybe with just a bit more luck in the hair department.
I recently reviewed the life goals I wrote for myself on returning from the MCG that day, and I gave myself a performance review to see whether I had achieved them.
Life goals at 11 | Results at 2013 |
Take the most Test wickets. | Fail. Currently 756 short. |
Kick winning goal for Hawthorn after the siren in the grand final. | Fail. Trained with the Hawks under-19s. |
Become lead guitarist for Kiss. | Fail. Can play the lead riff of God of Thunder. |
Win an Academy Award. | Pass. Slumdog Millionaire (more about this later). |
Batting-wise, I loved Greg Chappell and Allan Border and, for some reason, Kepler Wessels, the South African opening batsman who debuted for Australia in World Series Cricket with his unique crab-like technique. Kepler would slide back toward leg slip and nail anything on the stumps or wider to the off-side boundary. He cut his way to a hundred on Test debut against England, but later in the series the Poms worked out that you could tie him down on leg stump as he couldnt get his bat around his front leg to hit the ball.
In one dry batting spell for the Springvale South under-16s I reverted to the Kepler backlift technique, so I could be ready to smash any ball pitching on or outside off stump for four through the point region. I was promptly bowled for a duck bowled leg stump, Wessels-style.
* * *
Like all kids of that era, I played footy in the winter and cricket in the summer. Mums side of the family were all passionate Carlton fans, while Dads family were Footscray. Naturally, therefore, I picked Hawthorn, which must have been on top of the ladder when I started taking an interest.
We didnt book holidays in September between 1974 and 1994, as the Mighty Hawkers didnt make the finals only three times in these years. Seven premierships came in that era. Michael Tuck played in them all, along with stars such as Leigh Mathews, Peter Knights, Dermott Brereton, Johnny Platten, Robert Dipper DiPierdomenico and the Chief Jason Dunstall. But my favourite was Gary Buckenara. I tried to play like Bucky, who was a dangerous half-forward with a booming kick. He took big screamers and could run in the midfield as well.