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January 2, 2007

Cakes, texts and tenors

Posted by Andrew Miller on 01/02/2007 in England in Australia, 2006-07





A trio of commemorative cakes - the profiterole mountain is for Justin Langer © Andrew Miller
In the otherwise venerable SCG museum, there is one hideously mawkish souvenir - a commemorative red hankie, one of several thousand handed out by the Sydney Daily Telegraph on the occasion of Steve Waugh's retirement in January 2004. So the legend goes, Waugh never took the field without his lucky red snot-rag, and the paper rightly thought that such an item would come in handy for the 40,000 people bidding farewell to their hero.


For if there is one thing that the Australians do better than cricket, it is sentimentality. For instance, it is now 23 years since Greg Chappell, Dennis Lillee and Rod Marsh all bowed out in the same Sydney Test against Pakistan, and we still haven't heard the end of it. Mind you, this match might just do what 2005 did for 1981 and bump that one down the list a notch or two.

Continue reading "Cakes, texts and tenors"

December 28, 2006

Monty's magnificent hirsuteness

Posted by Andrew Miller on 12/28/2006 in England in Australia, 2006-07





Monty Panesar celebrates victory in the 2006 Beard of the Year awards © Getty Images
Since his eight-wicket heroics at the WACA, Monty Panesar has not enjoyed the best of weeks. He went wicketless in Australia’s first innings at Melbourne, after being denied the forest of close catchers that he’d been afforded in Perth, and he had a stone-dead lbw appeal turned down when Andrew Symonds had made just 52 of his 156 runs. But today, at last, he’s got some news to cheer him up.


He’s just been named the 2006 Beard of the Year by those notable facial-fungus connoisseurs, the Beard Liberation Front. The organisation, dedicated to “the removal of a societal prejudice against the facially folically enhanced or bearded” sprung to prominence in the late 1990s, when its founder, Keith Flett, took exception to the tendency for New Labour politicians to shave off their whiskers to attract more voters.

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December 21, 2006

Warne announces his retirement

Posted by Andrew Miller on 12/21/2006 in England in Australia, 2006-07

1.16pm

“Have you spoken to John Howard, and do you know if he’s retiring,” asks a reporter, as Warne exits stage left to laughter and a round of applause. That’s it. The man has said his piece. At the age of 37, with 699 Test wickets from 143 matches, with the prospect of two more games to come, Shane Warne has announced his retirement from international cricket, Australian domestic cricket and club cricket for his local St Kilda team. He will, however, continue to honour his contract with Hampshire for the next two years. Catch him there while you can, because you’ll not see his like again in a hurry.


1.14pm

“We expect England to come out and play with pride,” says Warne, but he believes the coming weeks will be celebrational rather than emotional.

1.12pm

Warne says he discussed his retirement with, among others, Ian Chappell and his ex-wife, Simone, “who’s been there for the journey.” He wants to be remembered as “an entertainer, who enjoyed himself along the way.”

1.10pm

“Let’s hope they can contain the bushfires for a week, and let the rains to come along next week,” he jokes, when asked about the prospect of a 700th wicket on home turf at the MCG.

1.08pm

“There was a little bit of shock when I told Ricky I was going to retire,” says Warne. “He is a good friend and my captain. It makes me feel good that I’ve had such an impact. Sometimes you don’t realise the impact you have.” He recalls the example of Dan Cullen, who used to chase the team bus to get Warne’s autograph, and is now a team-mate.

1.06pm

The Ball of the Century? “It definitely makes me smile. As I’ve said a thousand times, it was just a fluke. I’m just thankful Gatt missed it.”

1.04pm

“Sachin Tendulkar and Brian Lara have been the best two batsmen of my era,” he adds. “Lara places the ball unbelievably well, while I admire Sachin for what he has to go through every day. 50 million people wanting you to succeed. One of the hardest things about being a successful player is the weight of expectation. Domestically, Darren Lehmann has been the hardest player I’ve had to bowl to.”

1.02pm

“If England had retained the Ashes in this series, would you have pushed on to 2009?” asks Dean Wilson of the Daily Mirror. “Yup.”

1.00pm

“Richie is the man, he knows everything about everything,” says Warne, when asked about the influences in his career. “I wished I’d played under Ian Chappell,” he adds, before reminiscing about their time living together in Augusta, when they were both covering the US Masters … in Warne’s brief Channel Nine gig as a “roving reporter”. “And I wouldn’t be where I am without Terry Jenner,” he adds.

12.57pm

“I don’t know what Steve Waugh’s on,” he retorts, when asked about Waugh’s opinion that Warne might one day line up as a coach of England.


12.56pm

Any chance of a comeback? "No." Lows? Losing the World Cup final in 1996, and then losing the one-run Test against West Indies in 1992-93, before being hammered by Curtly Ambrose's 7 for 1 at Perth. The only home series defeat of his career. Any regrets about missing out on the captaincy? "I've been very lucky," he says, not quite answering the question.


12.54pm

Warne recalls his haul of 7 for 52 here at Melbourne in 1992-93 against West Indies as the moment he realised he was good enough to belong to the team full-time.

12.52pm

“Do you want your life to be less like a soap opera,” asks Stephen Brenkley of The Independent. “You guys will be the judge of that,” he replies, before adding that he hopes there’s a bit less moralising about his life in future.

12.50pm

“At times I pushed the line, particularly with my appealing, but I think I made cricket more enjoyable,” says Warne, before confirming that he will honour the final two years of his Hampshire contract. “Who knows what the future holds? I want to spend more time with my children, that’s for sure. But my focus is these next two Test matches. I’ll have a few drinks and a few smokes afterwards, and take it from there.”

12.48pm

Warne reiterates that his favourite Test win was the recent victory at Adelaide. Before that, you have to rewind to the tour of Sri Lanka in August 1992, the first occasion on which he won a match for Australia with 3 for 11. Thirteen years between highs. No wonder he’s satisfied with his timing.

12.46pm

“I’ve given as much as I could to cricket. I’ve never walked away when I’m tired or knackered. But the job’s not done yet. We want to win 5-0,” says Warne.

12.44pm

Warne reveals he would have retired after the 2005 Ashes, had Australia managed to retain them. “But this is my time, and getting the Ashes back was my mission, and I couldn’t have worked the script any better. When it’s your time you just know.”

12.42pm

“I sit here today with every single trophy in the Cricket Australia cabinet," says Warne. "I retire a very happy man. My life has been unbelievable. I’m going out on top, and in my terms. It’s a day of celebration."

12.40pm

Warne has announced his retirement from international, domestic and St Kilda cricket. But he hasn't mentioned Hampshire just yet. He still has two years to run on that contract ...


12.38pm

Philip Pope, the Cricket Australia media man, is on the stage, doing a bit of pre-presser "housekeeping". The great man is waiting in the wings.


12.37pm

A flash of cameras and a hush descends, but it's only James Sutherland and the Cricket Australia crew. The tension is killing us.

12.35pm

No official word just yet, but the reminiscing has begun already. This morning, on Australia's Today show, Mark Taylor was asked by a random TV presenter how the Aussies would cope with the loss of one of the game's "great sledgers". "Awww... mate, he's not that good," quipped Taylor. "He tends to just start with a four-letter word and then says a load of nonsense."

12.30pm

Channel Nine has already gone live, apparently, but there's nothing to see just yet, save the back of a lot of gossiping heads. As the clock ticks over to zero-hour ...

12.15pm

Expectant chatter turns to an expectant hush, but then reverts to another expectant chatter. What are the bets on the man being fashionably late?


12.00pm

A monstrous media presence now. At least 14 TV cameras, twice as many photographers, and four times that number of journalists. Most of the photographers are camped at the entrance to the big black curtain, from behind which Warne is expected to sweep in the next half-an-hour. About the only people oblivious to the goings-on are the ground staff out in the middle of the amphitheatre. With five days to go until the Boxing Day Test, however, they'll have arguably the biggest part to play in the whole send-off.


11.15am

Enter through Gate 2 and, as instructed by the media advisory, head straight up the escalator to the Members' Dining Room. No-one else around but a few early-bird cameramen, a handful of Cricket Australia officials in jacket and ties, and the ghosts of several dozens of legends of the game, looming down on the scene from their portraits on the walls. It is here that I catch my first glimpse of the great ground. Even when empty it is an extraordinary arena, with tier upon tier towering up to the skies. There could be no better venue for such a showman as Warne to face his final curtain. If, of course, that is what he intends to do.

11.00am

Arrive at "The G", just as a large bronze statue is being offloaded from a trailer on the concourse. The grand, sweeping action (coupled with rumours I heard while at the WACA) lead me to believe it is Dennis Lillee, although the men ripping the off the bubble-wrap insist that, come the morning, it will look somewhat different. "We're going to saw its head off overnight," jokes one of them, "and stick Shane Warne's on instead."

10.45am

Well, something's definitely happening. As I set off on the hour-and-a-half journey from Mount Martha, on the Mornington Peninsula, to Melbourne, an email arrives from Cricket Australia, confirming that Shane Warne will indeed be present at the MCG "to share his thoughts with the media". Well, that's nice and ambiguous. Something rather dramatic must be afoot after all.

December 19, 2006

Brett Lee's Ashes after-party

Posted by Andrew Miller on 12/19/2006 in England in Australia, 2006-07





Brett Lee parties with 'Slim Jim and the Fats' © Andrew Miller

Remember 2005? Remember England's Ashes rampage through every bar in the West End? "Freddied!" read the headlines in the morning papers, as Andrew Flintoff presented the acceptable side of binge-drinking during an all-night bender that finished with that open-top bus parade through Trafalgar Square.

Fifteen months on from that epic day's night, and it was Australia's turn for a bit of post-triumph release. It's fair to say that things were just a little bit more restrained. Perth, I suppose, is a good leveller. No matter how exciting an occasion turns out to be, there's only so much capital any victorious team can make out of the most isolated city on earth.

And so, while England's finest had bundled into the most exclusive nightclubs in existence, Australia chose instead to patronise one of the lowliest backpackers' hang-outs in the entire state. On Mondays, Perth rocks to the beat of the Deen on Aberdeen Street. It's Aus$10 for all that you can drink, and on the night that the Ashes were won and lost, that equates to a lot of beer.

Continue reading "Brett Lee's Ashes after-party"

December 13, 2006

The Ashes in widescreen slo-mo

Posted by Andrew Miller on 12/13/2006 in England in Australia, 2006-07





Angus Fraser rolls back the years at the WACA © Getty Images
I walked into a glass partition in the business centre of the team hotel last night. It was actually quite an easy mistake to make. They’d moved the pot-plant and given the window a wipe-down, and with lots of wide open space in front and behind it, it seemed the obvious way out. In fact, when another punter did exactly the same ten minutes later, an amused receptionist made a series of urgent phonecalls and a portable rainforest was delivered forthwith to the foyer.


I was still thinking about this indignity as I made my way down to the WACA last night to watch England’s “Legends” take on their Australian counterparts in a floodlit Twenty20 match. If something as obvious and natural as walking through a door can, in the wrong circumstances, become such an embarrassment, then what about something that for 20 years had been your livelihood? Bowling a cricket ball for instance.


“I was asked to play, but I said ‘No way’,” said Nasser Hussain, one of the wise few who avoided the bear-trap that had been set for him. As the 6.15pm start time approached, Nasser was still lurking in the corner of the business centre, struggling to get his head around his new iPod. “Once you’ve retired, that’s it,” he added between curses at his computer. “Still, I might pop down just to watch Fraser get spanked out of the park.”

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December 10, 2006

Whacking off

Posted by Andrew Miller on 12/10/2006 in England in Australia, 2006-07





Jacques Rudolph fends off a rare lifter at the less whacky WACA © Getty Images

Forgive me while I make a bid for Private Eye's Pseud's Corner, but as a wannabee writer, I've always been a sucker for a bit of onomatopoeia. You know the construction I’m talking about - a word or phrase that imitates the sound it is representing: "The moan of doves in immemorial elms and the murmurings of innumerable bees,” as Alfred Lord Tennyson might have put it.


But let’s cut the classical crap. We’re in Australia now, and so there’s no need for such highfalutin examples. Especially not when we are talking about the most satisfyingly named sporting venue in the world. I refer, of course, to the WACA ground in Perth.


"The Whacker".

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December 9, 2006

Roll-flingers and pie-chuckers

Posted by Andrew Miller on 12/09/2006 in England in Australia, 2006-07





The crowd turned on the after-dinner entertainer in a rather unexpected fashion © Andrew Miller

Lilac Hill lies a half-hour’s drive from the centre of Perth, amid the fringes of the region’s wine industry. The ground is nestled on a tree-lined kink of the Swan River, and is the sort of place that evokes images of bucolic tranquillity. For English tourists, however, such appearances are invariably deceptive. In this fixture, there is always trouble in paradise.


“There’s no such thing as a festival game,” said Alec Stewart after England‘s latest mugging of the tour - a seven-wicket thrashing at the hands of a dervish-bladed Luke Ronchi. Stewart, England’s captain and top-scorer for the day, was still fresh as a daisy despite having played virtually no cricket since his retirement three years ago. That was more than could be said for the rest of his bedraggled team, who had various layers of ring-rustiness scoured off them in the course of the match.


To a backdrop of drunken baying hospitality tents, England’s Generation Next suffered varying degrees of discomfort - Chris Read picked up a fifth-ball duck, Jon Lewis vanished for 51 in seven overs, Liam Plunkett left the field with a dislocated finger and Monty Panesar’s bowling figures suffered a wind-assisted demolition at the hands of Ronchi, who rode a tempting cross-breeze to slap six after six after six. Given Steve Harmison’s infamous eight-wide over in this fixture four years ago, these indignities were more or less par for the course.

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December 6, 2006

Too shocked to gloat

Posted by Andrew Miller on 12/06/2006 in England in Australia, 2006-07





The party's over before anyone was really aware it had begun © Getty Images
Adelaide awoke this morning with a massive hangover. At least, I assume it did, because nothing else could quite explain how quiet the city was on the morning after the night before. The streets seemed empty, aside from a few bewildered Englishmen standing out from the (lack of) crowd in their “Douglas Jardine - Ashes hero” T-shirts, hoping against hope that everything they’d just witnessed had all been a bad dream.


I’d imagined this moment ever since I first starting watching Ashes routs. What would it be like, I wondered, to be Pom Down Under, on the day after England had slumped to one of their most wretched defeats in history? The answer surprised me, because the result had surprised everyone. Australia, it seemed, was too shocked even to gloat.

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November 30, 2006

Trumpet involuntary

Posted by Andrew Miller on 11/30/2006 in England in Australia, 2006-07





Bill Cooper and his meddlesome instrument © Getty Images
I don’t think I can ever have been so pleased to hear the Barmy Army in full cry than I was on that final morning at Brisbane. “E-verywhere we go-oh!” came the chorus, just as Kevin Pietersen, England’s last hope, was dispatched by the fourth ball of the day. “The pe-ople want to know-oh!” they continued, in defiance of all evidence to the contrary. “Whooo we are-ah”, they blundered on, as the teeth of 100 journalists were set indisputably on edge.


They are noisy, nauseating, and unspeakably tuneless, and when you’ve heard that witless chorus once, you’ve heard it 1000 times - usually when you are right on deadline and desperate for some peace and quiet. And yet, for the first (but on today’s evidence, maybe not the only) time in my life, I was delighted to hear them break into song. Never mind the noise pollution, it was a victory for free speech, free spirits and futility - which, like kittens and warm-woollen mittens, are a few of my favourite things.


But if we thought the nonsenses at the Gabba had been forgotten amid the tranquillity of the Adelaide Oval, then today’s press release from Cricket Australia has confirmed once again that, in this country, good humour is an item to be surrendered at all turnstiles. “Cricket Australia clarifies Barmy Army trumpet,” read the improbable headline, followed by 16 (sixteen!) paragraphs of justification for the continued expulsion of the Army’s cause célèbre, Bill Cooper, and his meddlesome brass instrument.

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November 29, 2006

This is the real Australia

Posted by Andrew Miller on 11/29/2006 in England in Australia, 2006-07





Unlike the Gabba, Adelaide is a cricket ground, not a stadium © Andrew Miller
Only now do I feel I've arrived in Australia. Don't get me wrong. I really enjoyed my time in Queensland (even though the cricket was desperate). I had a nice day on the beach to recover from my jetlag, my digs were impeccable throughout, and the native flora and fauna seemed to queue up to pay me a visit. I saw a possum on the verandah and a family of kangaroos in the park. We passed a gumtree plantation on the way from the airport and I got squawked at by a flock of rainbow parakeets as I stepped out of the car. Had I wanted to cuddle a koala, I could have made a quick detour to the Lone Pine Sanctuary, some ten minutes down the road. But that's not really my scene.


But in spite of this sensory bombardment, something had been missing throughout. Something obvious, but utterly overlooked as the chaos of the cricket unfolded. It's only now, as I sit in the press box at the Adelaide Oval, watching the sun setting on the famous old scoreboard, as the earthy red roof of the Sir Edwin Smith stand begins to turn deep pink in the fading light, that I've realised what it is. It's context, stupid!

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November 24, 2006

An over-sanitised atmosphere

Posted by Andrew Miller on 11/24/2006 in England in Australia, 2006-07





A rash of Green and Gold at the Gabba © Getty Images

The massive media interest in this series has been a blessing in disguise for any member of the press corps who enjoys a bit of atmosphere while they go about their work. The modern trend in press boxes is for uber-sanitised sardine cans, usually stuffed deep in the bowels of the stand behind the bowler’s arm, where 50 sweaty hacks seem to breathe the same recycled air for five days on end, and hardly a peep from the stands gets through the sound-proofed walls.

But for this Test the pattern is very different. With every man and his dog wanting a share of the Ashes action, the Gabba authorities have had to erect a temporary gantry high in the Vulture Street End. They’ve obliterated 400 precious seats to do so, but the treasurer’s loss is journalism’s gain, as we perch on our precarious-looking scaffolds and peer down on the action below. A full Gabba is a truly impressive sight, with its uniform bullring seating towering over the players in the middle, and it‘s a blessing to be out in the midst of it, sampling the real atmosphere.


We can hear the nicks (not that there have been many of them), feel the sixes being sucked over the rope by a record-breaking 39,315 crowd, and sense the hairs standing on Alastair Cook’s neck as he sweats and circles under (and ultimately drops) a steepler at backward square-leg.. And we can feel the breeze as well, and on another stifling day that’s not to be sniffed at at all.

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November 21, 2006

Germans in Bris Vegas

Posted by Andrew Miller on 11/21/2006 in England in Australia, 2006-07





Brisbane: hillier than you might think
Brisbane is an unexpectedly hilly place. For a first-time visitor, brought up on endless brochure photos of Australia's vast and barren outback, it can sometimes seem as though the only hummock in the entire land is at Ayres Rock. Here, though, the streets rise and fall like something lifted straight from San Francisco. Minus the trams of course. They were dispensed with in the 1960s, presumably because the demand for public transport was so underwhelming.

It's an incongruous city. Peaceful almost to the point of self-parody, the locals have their tongues wedgely firmly in cheeks (I think!) when they dub the place "Bris Vegas" or "BrisneyLand". Even the Interstate Highways are unknowingly comical with their large-letter signposts on the slip roads. "No Tractors, No Animals, No Pedestrians" they scream on one side. "Wrong Way! Go Back!" bellows the other in unmissable white-on-red characters. I can't imagine the M25 ever has such a problem.

It's a country town made good. The tuft of skyscrapers in the Central Business District is proof that Brisbane has shrugged off its reputation as a backwater, as indeed is the new-look Gabba – although this vast speckle-seated amphitheatre with room for 42,000 punters is so far removed from its roots that it's almost impossible to recall the grassy banks and dog track that once made the ground so unique. Impressive it most certainly is, and a fitting venue for Thursday's showdown of a lifetime. But the redevelopment is not to everyone's taste.

What remains on the outside of the ground is perhaps as revealing as what lurks within. Take the wonderfully monickered Vulture Street for instance, one of the most evocative names in the game. This is a road that turned out to be exactly as I imagined it. A little bit dingy, a little bit ugly, but strangely majestic nonetheless. Okay, so there weren't any big hook-beaked birds circling over the carcasses of road-killed ‘roos (to give my mind's eye its full and warped licence), but there was a wonderfully grotty 7-Eleven shopping centre, situated just a stone's throw from the main entrance to the ground.

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November 20, 2006

Not all sunny in the sun

Posted by Andrew Miller on 11/20/2006 in England in Australia, 2006-07





Groupies? What groupies? Michael Clarke just gets on with his game © Getty Images
Queensland amply lives up to its billing as the Sunshine State. This is a land where summer lasts for six months, spring and autumn compete for four, and winter is a moveable feast that seems to have been abolished since the turn of the Millennium. Aside from the odd insubstantial cloudburst, there has not been a significant downpour in these parts since 2001, and in that time, the wicket at the Gabba has stepped out from the crowd and been officially anointed as the fastest strip in the land.


The sun tends to rise at 4.30am up here (a habit that plays havoc with those suffering from jet-lag) and hangs high in the sky for hours on end, beating down mercilessly on anyone who ventures out in the midday heat – people such as the knot of journalists who rocked up to the Brisbane Grammar School ground in Northgate today, to watch Australia's latest training session.


If the battle of Waterloo really was won on the playing fields of Eton, then England might as well surrender forthwith in their battle for the Ashes. The Grammar School grounds, situated just off the motorway and a stone's throw from the airport, consist of a vast expanse of yellowing spongy grass, sculpted into three immaculate ovals and overseen by a grandstand pavilion that wouldn't look out of place at The Rose Bowl.


With its hills and mounds and general undulations, this is a venue that feels more like a links golf course, especially on a day when Australia's stars were as spread out as Tiger Woods and his colleagues on the final round of an Open. On the main ground, ringed off by a white picket fence, was Brett Lee – working himself into a furious sweat in the company of a cast of grammar schoolboy fielders. Somewhere in the middle distance was Shane Warne, going through his fielding drills with John Buchanan, while Ricky Ponting was in the nets, finding his timing against the Queensland Under-17s.


Not everyone was having an easy time against the kids though. On a particularly juicy end strip, Justin Langer was flinching and cursing as the ball zipped regularly off the seam, while Adam Gilchrist – taking his licks with greater equanimity than his team-mate – found the bullish left-arm line of a young Ian Austin lookalike very tricky to cope with. He nearly chopped a lifter onto his off stump before being rapped on the pad just outside the line, while the bowler, a 16-year-old named Michael, later claimed a caught-behind against his hero as well. Not a bad way to make an impression.

It was a brutally hot day, and clearly not the sort to encourage hard labour. Shane Watson was reduced to running in off three paces as he tested his damaged hamstring, while the taxi driver who brought one of the English journalists to the ground decided that pickings were so slim he might as well hang around and indulge in some autograph hunting. Mike Hussey – Mr Cricket himself – was particularly busy in that regard, as he prepared for his return to the ground where he made his Test debut. Incredibly, that was only this time last year.

By the end of the session the full entourage of English press corps had arrived, freshly jetted up from Adelaide. They had gathered for one purpose only, the traditional pre-series media bunfight, where all of a team's players are paraded in front of the microphones to talk at length in whatever direction an interviewer so wishes. So Michael Clarke was asked his opinion of groupies ("say what?"), while Warne declared he had "had enough of talking to you guys and answering the same questions", before going right ahead and answering them all anyway.


Thankfully the talking is soon to stop, which will relieve players and media alike. But there was one hot topic that remained on all the journos' lips – the need to book Brisbane's best restaurants well in advance, to guard against the voracious influx of 10,000 English fans. To survey the city after dark, however, was to scoff at such a notion. Admittedly it was a Monday night, but rarely can there have been a quieter conurbation this side of Windhoek. Things are about to get rather exciting in the sleepy old town.

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