You might not think that’s cricket, and it’s not. It’s motor racing.
– Renowned formula-1 commentator Murray Walker
Murray Walker wasn’t commentating on a Twenty20 game. He was broadcasting a motor race when he uttered that infamous quote. Walker used a derivative of lament uttered 80 years ago during the Bodyline Ashes series, it’s just not cricket, when Australia’s batsmen were being targeted by England’s Harold Larwood.
Walker’s quote, though, summed up the attitude of traditionalists following the proliferation of the one-day game around the world. The lament, it’s not Test cricket, ensured thousands of people ignored the new, shorter format and continue to do so.
People shouldn’t be criticised for preferences.
Though Australian’s were quick to embrace one-day cricket in the eighties, the game isn’t drawing the vast crowds it once did. On 7 January 1988, 61,316 people watched Australia defeat New Zealand by six runs at the MCG in a thrilling day-night game. The day was hot, 40 degrees during the afternoon, and the crowd still came.
Twenty-four years later, Cricket Australia is pleased with a crowd of 30,000.
Don’t be fooled into thinking Australia’s fast food mentality isn’t justly earned, it’s a feature of society. In terms of cricket, people aren’t turning up because society is more fluid, there’s more to do, and women, who once embraced the one-day game, are turning away. People still want instant gratification, they just don’t want one-day cricket.
A different type of crowd attends one-day games, where the focus is less on the cricket and more on entertainment provided by those in attendance, beach balls, blow up dolls, fancy dress and a lot of alcohol. The cricket seems secondary, and despite the advent of power plays and a free hit following a no-ball, the crowds are staying away.
Around the world, though, the situation is different. One-day cricket packs stadiums in India, England and South Africa while Tests are played to a scattering of people. Traditional cricket fans are almost a lobby group now.
The one-day game, despite its limitations, continues to provide moments of flair and heroics, the problem is no one seems to remember them. The current tri-series between Australia, India and Sri Lanka has provided excellent games with tense finishes, matches won in the last over, another ending in a rare tie, just the 26th in one-day history.
In an attempt to get back into one-day cricket, I’ve been watching and listening intently to this series. It’s the first time in years I’ve paid attention, and though I’m doing it primarily for the purpose of this series of articles, the other reason is far simpler; it is cricket, and history is being made.
On 20 February, Ricky Ponting was dropped from the one-day side because of poor performance. In five innings, Ponting scored 18 runs from 66 deliveries. The retrenchment forced retirement, one-day cricket is a young man’s game and Ponting is 37 years old. Unfortunately, in Clarke’s absence, the selectors named Ponting as temporary captain, and though that appointment was destined to be brief, the captain of Australia’s one-day side has been dropped.
The decision by John Inverarity and his selectors to ask Ponting to captain the side with Clarke was questioned. Ponting was good enough to captain and days later he wasn’t good enough to be in the side, such is the immediacy of form. He must’ve felt aggrieved it happened like that.
No axe falls gracefully. The thwack it makes when it hits is brutal.
Recently, people have commented on Australia’s one-day side, I’ve never heard of some of them, an indication of a team rebuilding. It’s also an indication that most cricket fans aren’t paying enough attention to the one-day game or the players on the periphery.
The selectors, based on injury and poor form, are gambling with the future of Australian cricket. As they have done for decades, the selectors are using the one-day side as a breeding ground for the Tests. Out with the old…
One-day cricket, as it has for decades, will continue to create Test players and legends of the game.
A lot of great players missed out, such is the folly of opinion and difficulty of the task. My team is based on many things, reliability, consistency and ability to perform under pressure.
Last year, when I asked people to nominate Australia’s best Test side, the response was rapid. Knowledgeable men picked their teams with great care. To date, only three knowledgeable men have nominated their best one-day side, which proves it was a much tougher task.
My team is listed below, in batting order.
| Games | Inn | runs | ave | HS | rate | n/o | 100s | 50s | catches | |
| Adam Gilchrist |
287 |
279 |
9619 |
35.89 |
172 |
96.94 |
11 |
16 |
55 |
417 |
| Mark Waugh |
244 |
236 |
8500 |
39.35 |
173 |
76.9 |
20 |
18 |
50 |
108 |
| Ricky Ponting |
370 |
360 |
13686 |
42.63 |
164 |
80.6 |
39 |
30 |
82 |
162 |
| Dean Jones |
164 |
161 |
6068 |
44.61 |
145 |
72.56 |
25 |
7 |
46 |
54 |
| Michael Clarke |
206 |
188 |
6622 |
45.35 |
130 |
78.1 |
42 |
6 |
49 |
80 |
| Michael Bevan |
232 |
196 |
6912 |
53.58 |
108 |
74.14 |
67 |
6 |
46 |
69 |
| Shane Watson |
140 |
121 |
4186 |
43.15 |
185 |
89.84 |
24 |
6 |
25 |
47 |
| games | wickets | average | s/rate | econ | best | 5 for | 4 four | runs | |
| Shane Warne |
194 |
293 |
25.73 |
36.3 |
4.25 |
5-33 |
1 |
12 |
7541 |
| Brett Lee |
205 |
357 |
22.89 |
29.1 |
4.7 |
5-22 |
9 |
14 |
8173 |
| Craig McDermott |
138 |
203 |
24.71 |
36.7 |
4.03 |
5-44 |
1 |
4 |
5018 |
| Glenn McGrath |
250 |
381 |
22.02 |
34 |
3.88 |
7-15 |
7 |
9 |
8391 |
| Denis Lillee* |
63 |
103 |
20.82 |
34.8 |
3.58 |
5-34 |
1 |
5 |
2145 |
| *12th man |
| Games | Inn | runs | ave | HS | rate | n/o | 100s | 50s | catches | |
|
287 |
279 |
9619 |
35.89 |
172 |
96.94 |
11 |
16 |
55 |
417 |
Adam Gilchrist made his ODI debut on 25 October 1996 at Nahar Singh Stadium, Faridabad, batting at number seven, scoring 18 from 22 balls. In his second game he was run out for a first ball duck.
On 8 April, 1997, he played as a batsman in his sixth game, scoring 26 from 17 balls, taking a rare turn in the field while Ian Healy kept. Gilchrist was still the future while Healy, in reasonable form, was the now. In his nineteenth game, Gilchrist was promoted to opener, scoring 20 from 27 balls against South Africa at the MCG.
Eight months later, 26 January 1998, Gilchrist scored his first one-day hundred from 104 balls at the SCG, flailing the South African attack in a seven wicket win. Two games later, his twenty-second, Gilchrist hit another hundred, 118 from 117 balls against New Zealand in Christchurch.
In rapid time, sixteen months, Adam Gilchrist redefined the role of keeper-batsman, quickly becoming the best the world has seen. Though he may not be regarded as proficient, technically, like Marsh and Healy, Gilchrist was much more a match winner, a genuine all-rounder. He personified aggression, a free-swinging left hander, averaging 35.89 with 16 hundreds, unprecedented for a keeper, unprecedented for most opening batsmen.
Gilchrist could’ve been in Australia’s best one-day team on batting alone. Few batsmen could render an attack as like Gilchrist could, and though his average seems five runs short, the strike rate of 96.94 is extraordinary, almost a run a ball.
On 28 April 2007, Gilchrist hit 149 from 104 balls in the World Cup final against Sri Lanka. The innings, a great one, became more meaningful in a rain interrupted match, reduced to 38 overs. Gilchrist’s hundred, more than half Australia’s total of 281, ensured victory.
When Gilchrist batted he attacked from the first ball, unafraid to loft or slam it, elevated, through point. It didn’t matter if Australia was chasing 95 or 295. His penchant for excitement often caused grief, caught at point or in the gully and it always seemed unnecessary, but Gilchrist has been described as the most unselfish batsman to play the game. When the attack worked, he was compelling to watch, and the match was worse when he was out.
Healy and Marsh may rate higher on keeping ability, but the statistics prove Gilchrist wasn’t just a batsman. He took 417 catches and stumped 55 batsmen in one-day cricket, 472 dismissals from 287 games. He has claimed more catches and stumpings than any other Australian wicket-keeper and hammered the bowling, twisting more matches in Australia’s favour.
Gilchrist scored 9619 runs, not bad for a wicket keeper. In a hundred years from now, wicket keepers will still be compared to Adam Gilchrist.
| Games | Inn | runs | ave | HS | rate | n/o | 100s | 50s | catches | |
|
244 |
236 |
8500 |
39.35 |
173 |
76.9 |
20 |
18 |
50 |
108 |
Mark Waugh made his ODI debut on 11 December 1988, an underwhelming occasion, not required to bat in Australia’s nine wicket victory over Pakistan. Waugh followed his brother Steve into the Australian side and didn’t quite match his twin’s ability early on in the short format. In his second match, Waugh ran out brother Steve and Allan Border at crucial times. He was then bowled for 18. The West Indies won by one run.
In and out of the side for two years, Waugh went fifteen matches before his first half century against England in Sydney on 1 January 1991.
Scattered among those fifteen innings were four single figure scores and one duck. After 46 games batting at number five, almost a quarter of his innings, thirteen, featured single digit scores. Although he’d scored nine half centuries, he was still without a hundred. Promoted to open in his forty-sixth game, Waugh found his niche, a remarkable run of five games featuring three half centuries and a hundred, finally, in his forty-ninth ODI.
Form in the opening slot seemed meaningless. Waugh spent the following three years coming in at first or second drop, scoring three hundreds from his next 50 games before being re-elevated to opener, a slot he owned for 142 consecutive games.
Fourteen of his eighteen ODI hundreds were scored as opener.
When in form, Mark Waugh was majestic, perhaps Australia’s most graceful batsman, certainly the most pleasing to watch. Batting seemed effortless, an afterthought. Waugh leaned into on-side shots, his bat almost slipping, caressing the ball, all wrists. He flicked the ball to the boundary as easy as people click their fingers, and with less effort. He hooked and cut without flourish, the straight drive mesmerising in its simplicity. His style could be described as minimalist, which made is so gratifying to watch.
He let the ball come to him, batting without extravagance and never seemed flustered, averaging almost 40 at strike rate of 76.90. He scored quickly and often, making batting look easy, as if playing in slow motion. His laconic nature and languid stroke play gave the critics fodder whenever he got out, because it always seemed unnecessary.
Getting out upset people, because they craved to watch, and the bile rose when his dismissal denied them pleasure.
In 2001 I watched, enthralled, as Waugh hit 173 against the West Indies at the MCG. Granted the West Indies were well past their peak, but Waugh was impervious, hitting sixteen fours and three sixes, a brilliant display of premeditated banging. It was his first ODI century at the MCG, his seventeenth overall and, at the time, the highest total by an Australian in one-day cricket.
It was also the ninth highest one-day score to that point.
When he got out, caught at long-off, the crowd groaned audibly before generating much applause.
Waugh also took 85 wickets at an average of 34.56, never a regular bowler, but often claiming a wicket with his medium pace or off-spin. A standout in the field, Waugh took 108 catches.
He polarised people, often labelled an underachiever, but his brilliance in one-day cricket ensures his selection.
| Games | Inn | runs | ave | HS | rate | n/o | 100s | 50s | catches | |
|
370 |
360 |
13686 |
42.63 |
164 |
80.6 |
39 |
30 |
82 |
162 |
Ricky Ponting is Australia’s best batsman since Don Bradman, shading out former captain Greg Chappell. Ponting’s record is impressive, more runs in Tests and ODI than any other Australian. Despite the indignation of being recently dropped, Ponting is a legend of the game, one of the world’s best.
Ponting debuted against South Africa on 15 February 1995 in Wellington. Batting at six, he was bowled for 1 from six balls. His first twelve innings featured two ducks among five single digit scores, along with three half centuries and a hundred against Sri Lanka at the MCG on 9 January 1996.
Batting at number four, Ponting hit seven fours and a six. Sri Lanka, though, won by three wickets. In his next game, Ponting was promoted to first drop, a position he’d occupy for sixteen years.
Averaging 42.63 with a strike rate of 80.60, Ponting scored 30 ODI hundreds, fourteen in Australia and sixteen overseas, making runs all around the world. He also hit 82 half-centuries. Of his 375 ODI innings, almost a third, 112, featured scores of 50 or more.
Ponting batted with poise, impeccably organised, aiming to score of every ball, capable of thrashing an attack, adept at finding the gaps for two or three runs. He ruined the psyche of many bowlers, fast and slow, captaining Australia to a run of 34 undefeated World Cup games. He led Australia in two World Cup victories, 2003 and 2007. In the field he took 160 catches and ran out countless batsmen from mid-off or mid-wicket.
Like all great captains, Ponting had great players at his command, men like Shane Warne, Glenn McGrath, Gilchrist and Matthew Hayden. Other captains, Mark Taylor, Allan Border and Steve Waugh used Warne and McGrath too, but as captain, Ponting’s form never suffered the uncertainty those men faced in the one-day game. He was as much a star as anyone under his command.
Recently, as reflexes have dulled, his form slipped but he never drifted down the order from first drop.
Ponting was every bit as tough and belligerent as his predecessors, but because Australia lost their edge under his leadership he’s often regarded as tactically deficient, a harsh call given the new era he had to build.
At his peak, Ponting was a defensive bulwark, punctuated by impeccable placement and a graceful pull shot. His record stands out as a beacon, more runs, more centuries and more wins than any Australian.
He’s the Ramble’s captain.
| Games | Inn | runs | ave | HS | rate | n/o | 100s | 50s | catches | |
|
164 |
161 |
6068 |
44.61 |
145 |
72.56 |
25 |
7 |
46 |
54 |
When people discuss Dean Jones, a point often made is wasted potential. In that, Jones has a common link with Mark Waugh, particularly in the Test arena. Jones peaked early, in his late twenties, and faded too fast, gone from the game at 33. His career was somewhat tainted by being branded arrogant, with too much belief in his own ability, he was never out of form just out of luck.
Jones certainly wasn’t Australia’s best one-day batsman, but there are other reasons for inclusion in my team.
His debut against Pakistan in Adelaide was reasonable. On 30 January, 1994, Jones batted at seven, scoring 40 from 33 balls, remaining not-out and pushing the total to 210. Australia won by 70 runs.
More important was the instant impact Jones had on those watching. He seemed manic, rapid between the wickets. As he developed, Jones walked down the wicket to fast bowlers to smash them over long-on. There were no more easy singles, not if they could be turned into two.
Jones often turned blind, taking on the fielder’s arm, trusting his judgement and speed. Occasionally the risk seemed unnecessary, getting run out, but occasionally he scored 60 instead of 40. He batted selflessly, hitting out when the situation required, not content to finish unbeaten in a losing side. In the field, Jones, was an excellent catcher who roamed the outfield, sprinting to cut off boundaries, his returns from the deep usually taken by the keeper beside the stumps.
The one-day game was changing. Jones was in the vanguard.
Slow, clumsy fielders suddenly became liabilities. The cricketer of old, those with extra pounds, couldn’t keep up with Jones between the wickets. Batting with Jones convinced many teammates they weren’t fit enough, not for the one-day game. Jones, in years to come, altered the way selectors chose their teams.
It took Jones 33 games to hit his first hundred. By his 36th game he’d scored three hundreds. Hot form aroused the country. For a while he became the darling of Australian cricket, a man capable of exciting the crowd and breaking opposition hearts.
At the Gabba on 16 December 1990, Jones scored 145 against England on a hot day. Batting in a canvas hat, he was belligerent, twelve fours and four sixes, hitting a one-handed six over the fine leg boundary, charging the fast men, unstoppable. At the time, it was the highest score by an Australian in one-day cricket.
Jones was a hero once-again, but that was where his peak ended.
A year later, 18 December 1991 in Sydney, Jones came in against the West Indies with Australia 1-128. Windies captain Richie Richardson bought Curtly Ambrose back on, for two overs at Jones, an obvious ploy to get him out.
Jones faced eleven balls for two runs before being bowled in an on-drive, attacking Ambrose when he should’ve been defending. The dismissal was needless. Ambrose had already bowled six overs and would be required at the finish. Richardson was always going to use him in a two over burst, amazing Jones could ignore that.
Jones was integral in the build up to Australia’s 1987 World Cup victory, but by the 1991 World Cup, he was in and out of the side, embarrassing for such an experienced player. His form, though, wasn’t good, seven half-centuries across 25 innings, with seven single figure scores.
At the time, Australian captain Allan Border admitted the decision to drop Jones was tough. ‘When he plays well we usually win, but we haven’t been winning,’ Border said.
By 1992, the remnants of a knee reconstruction slowed him in the field. His average had dipped from 47 to 44. Jones went without a hundred in his last 59 one-day games. He could still bat though, in those last 59 games he scored sixteen fifties, but could no longer go on with it.
Then he was gone from the game too early. Already miffed by selection policy, Jones was upset by poor umpiring during his last tour in South Africa. Border tried to talk him out of retiring. Jones wouldn’t reconsider, not when the Waugh brothers were preferred, despite inferior records in Test and one-day cricket. Jones labelled the Waugh Twins as koalas, a protected species.
The Waugh brothers, as history is well aware, repaid their selectors faith.
Jones’ overall record, 6068 runs at an average of 44.61 with seven hundreds and 46 fifties, is better than it appears. Australia didn’t play as many one-day games when Jones was around, and the opposition was arguably better, particularly with the West Indies at their peak. Amazingly, Jones played 41 one-day games, a quarter of his career total, against the Windies.
In the mid eighties, the one-day game needed men like Jones, visionaries who would help shape the future. Jones helped set the trend, in the field, at the crease and between the wickets.
| Games | Inn | runs | ave | HS | rate | n/o | 100s | 50s | catches | |
|
206 |
188 |
6622 |
45.35 |
130 |
78.1 |
42 |
6 |
49 |
80 |
Michael Clarke is neither stylish nor charismatic. He doesn’t exude toughness, there is no swagger or aggressive veneer. Pup will remain forever young, an unlikely choice for captain, if perceived softness is a guide, yet he’s fast creating his own legacy. Since being appointed as captain, his Test average has jumped from 46 to almost 50, the benchmark to greatness.
For almost a decade he’s absorbed the lessons proffered by Steve Waugh and Ricky Ponting, two tough men who led by example, both possessing the will to win everything. Clarke has a tougher job than Waugh, a commission that was beyond Ponting, given his age. Charged with rebuilding the Australian side, Clarke seems at ease.
He agreed with the recent decision to sack Ponting from the one-day side, but the blood on his hands isn’t about power taken, more, it’s about progression. Clarke, as captain, couldn’t see Ponting playing in the 2015 World Cup, and there’s no time to sack someone like the right time.
Clarke made his debut against England in Adelaide on 19 January 2003, scoring 39 not out in a four wicket win. After four games, Clarke had scored 198 runs at an average of 49. He scored his first hundred in his 28th game, a timely performance. Those 28 games featured eight single digit scores, including three ducks.
Inconsistency is the burden of any rookie. During his first 84 games, Clarke batted up and down the order, occasionally opening but mainly batting at six or seven. Since 2007 he’s predominantly batted at number four, hence the limited number of hundreds he’s scored, just six from 206 games. Of more importance is the number of fifties, 49 of them, along with 42 unbeaten innings.
Clarke can score fast runs late or help build a total, all at a solid strike rate of 78.10. He’s hard to get out, too. His statistics seem surprising, and he doesn’t stand out because he’s not a pure striker of the ball. He’s not the right man if ten runs per over are required, but he will rotate the strike if a hitter is at the other end. He can calm the tail through tough moments and bring Australia home.
During the 2007 World Cup, Clarke shit four half-centuries and remained unbeaten on eight in the final, a solid contributor without being spectacular.
Those five words, solid contributor without being spectacular, sum up Clarke’s career. He is dependable but hardly enticing to the eye. He bats almost squat and, continuing with the soft perception, doesn’t exactly smite the ball.
For the past two years, Clarke has been in good form, his last fifteen one-day games yielding four half centuries and one hundred.
He seems tactically astute and his left arm spin has netted 53 wickets at an average of 37.84. Like all Australian captains before him, Clarke is an outstanding fielder, particularly close to the wicket.
Clarke is building into the role of captain. He edged out a lot of capable batsman, those who may have better portrayed toughness and aggression, but whose records are inferior.
| Games | Inn | runs | ave | HS | rate | n/o | 100s | 50s | catches | ||
|
232 |
196 |
6912 |
53.58 |
108 |
74.14 |
67 |
6 |
46 |
69 |
||
Michael Bevan was a lower order specialist, impossible to get out, impossible to contain. His average of 53.58 is the third best in international one-day cricket. The two men above him seem surprising.
Heading the list is Ryan Doeschate from the Netherlands, with an average of 67.00 from 33 games. Doeschate has five hundreds and nine fifties, but he’s played mostly against B-grade teams like Canada, Ireland, Afghanistan and Scotland.
South Africa’s Hashim Amla has played 56 one-day games against much better opposition. His average of 56.10 is enhanced by nine hundreds and 17 fifties. He also bats higher than Beven did, so Amla is a man to watch.
Bevan played 232 one-day games. He is one of four men to average more than 50 in international one-day cricket. The number of not-outs, 67, assists his average, but the stat requires further examination. Of his 196 innings, 34 percent were unbeaten, a remarkable effort. On numerous occasions Bevan guided Australia home while batting with the tail.
He was, from time to time, labelled selfish, particularly following a narrow defeat, critics suggesting Bevan was more intent on remaining not-out instead of hitting out. There were rare times when his fluency seemed strangled, but Bevan was calculating, not prone to bursts of adrenalin. He could hit fours and sixes like any top order batsman, but his strength was placement, finding gaps, making the fielder work enough to score two or three runs.
The strike rate seems a little low, 74.14, and it highlights how he played, defending, looking for singles, protecting the tail. Bevan could turn 6-160 into 9-240. He was superb late in a game, quick between the wickets, hit shot selection refined to reduce the risk of dismissal.
Bevan was a graceful player without glamour. He didn’t excite the crowd like Mark Waugh or Adam Gilchrist, but he understood his role and took his job seriously, consistency his greatest strength. He was unfashionable, rarely discussed when people talk about great one-day players, which doesn’t seem right.
Just three times in 232 games did Bevan bat higher than four. He rotated between four and seven, lurking, ready to accumulate. He did fail, 32 single digit scores, but five of them were unbeaten. When he got out, the crowd seemed confused, what, and opposition bowlers wanted him gone as soon as he got in.
In the 1996 World Cup final against Sri Lanka, Bevan came in at 5-170, remaining not out on 36 as Australia scored 7-241. He batted well, but it wasn’t enough. Sri Lanka won easily. Unfortunately for Bevan, he wasn’t required to bat in the 1999 World Cup final or in the 2003 World Cup final, which ruined any chance he had at personal glory, such are the perils of being a lower order batsman.
Still, he featured in two victorious World Cup finals, and helped Australia get to the final.
Bevan wasn’t required to bat in his debut against Sri Lanka in Sharjah on 14 April 1994. Of his first 22 innings, eleven were unbeaten, and his first single digit score in his 22nd match also had an asterisk next to his name, 1 not-out. He didn’t score a century until his 57th game, then scored another in his 60th game.
The lack of iconic innings further dampens the enthusiasm many people have for Bevan, but no Australian averages more than 50 in the short format, and no batsman was capable of leading a team to victory as Bevan was.
He wasn’t required to hit hundreds, nor was he required to blast the bowlers over the fence, he hit just 21 sixes in 232 games, but he did what the team needed, not get out and make runs.
In another era, Bevan might’ve batted higher more often, and he still would’ve been successful. He also took 36 wickets with useful left arm leg spin, bowling what is technically known as Chinaman legspin.
Bevan can’t be overlooked in Australia’s best one-day side.
| Games | Inn | runs | ave | HS | rate | n/o | 100s | 50s | catches | |
|
140 |
121 |
4186 |
43.15 |
185 |
89.84 |
24 |
6 |
25 |
47 |
Shane Watson hasn’t done half as much as he could’ve for Australia. Soft tissue injuries are ruining his career, denying consistency, ruining his output. Over the summer he turned a hamstring tear into a calf tear. Some players are prone to injury. Watson seems cursed. He can play, though, his record is proof, and he’s easily the best all-rounder Australia has produced for years. He can open the batting, bat down the list, he’s a solid fielder and an excellent seam bowler.
His Test record is comparable with his one-day record, proving versatility. In Tests, he averages 38.12 with the bat and 28.01 with the ball, while averaging 42.72 and 29.19 in the short format. His strike one in one-day cricket, 89.73, makes him a dangerous batsman.
Watson made an ordinary debut against South Africa at Centurion on 24 March 2002, batting at number seven, caught for two. His first ten games featured three single digit scores with a highest score of 49 not-out from 78 balls. Three times in those ten games he wasn’t required to bat.
Down the order, mostly at seven, sometimes eight and occasionally four, it was 49 games before Watson was elevated to opener. The rise was timely, 79 from 74 balls against India in Kuala Lumpur. Following that breakout innings, his form as opener was patchy across the next ten games, three ducks among five single figure scores and two half centuries. He was relegated back down the order, between five and seven, for thirteen games, remaining not out in five.
When the selectors sent him up again, Watson capitalised. He has opened, when fit, for 81 consecutive games, scoring fifty or more in 25 of those innings.
In the 2007 World Cup, Watson was bowled for three and took 1-49 from seven overs, but he came in with four overs remaining and bowled during Sri Lanka’s frantic run chase.
On 11 April, 2011, Watson destroyed Bangladesh at Shere Bangla National Stadium. His innings remains his peak, 185 from 96 balls, with 15 sixes and 15 fours. Bangladesh can never measure up against an A-grade team, and the pitch was awfully slow, but the runs still needed to be scored.
Watson isn’t graceful, as Mark Waugh or Damien Martyn were, but he’s strong, he can swat the ball and he’s as effective against pace or spin. He is almost an elegant batsman, but he plays as though forced, not looking like a natural. He is more suited to first or second drop, in Tests and one-day games, rather than opener.
As a bowler, the speed has dropped from 143 kilometres an hour to 135, a deliberate slowdown to preserve his twangy muscles. His record, though, is solid, almost a wicket per game.
| games | wickets | average | s/rate | econ | best | 5 for | 4 four | runs | ||
|
140 |
138 |
29.55 |
36.4 |
4.85 |
4/36 |
3 |
0 |
4078 |
||
His average, strike rate and economy are high, but he bowls second or third change, often during a power-play and at the death.
A bowler like Brett Lee pounds to the wickets, his action fluid, an extension of his run-up. Watson seems robotic, almost stopping in delivery stride, his action pained, almost inviting injury. Simply, he looks fragile when he bowls, which is a shame, because he can bowl well.
The change of pace, however, doesn’t seem to be working too well, fourteen of his last 34 one-day games have been wicketless. Injury is reducing his output as a genuine all-rounder. Soon, Watson is at risk of being a batsman who bowls a little, as happened to Steve Waugh when a back injury prevented him from bowling for years.
Watson will remain an impact player while injury impacts on consistency. He’s got to get his body right, because he’s currently considered a poor man’s Jacques Kallis. He has the potential to be half the player Kallis is, if he can stay fit.
| games | wickets | average | s/rate | econ | best | 5 for | 4 four | runs | |
|
194 |
293 |
25.73 |
36.3 |
4.25 |
5-33 |
1 |
12 |
7541 |
Shane Warne is the best bowler I have ever seen. A leg-spinner, unable to intimidate batsmen with the bouncer, Warne used a savvy attitude, drift and sharp spin to get wickets. The flipper, at his peak, was unplayable. Following shoulder surgery, he couldn’t bowl the flipper with the same lethal intent or spin the ball as much.
Shackled by surgery, Warne used guile and bluff, better control, but bowled flatter and quicker in one-day games without the subtle variations. His average was good, 25.73 with an economy of 4.25, but he wasn’t as effective in containing batsmen and couldn’t always think them out. Batsmen hit him for boundaries, but no one, aside from Sachin Tendulkar and Brian Lara really dominated him.
Warne frightened batsmen with trickery and thrived on hesitancy. He was a great illusory artist, daring the batsmen to hit him. Without injury, Warne might’ve taken 300 ODI wickets. Without taking a diuretic, he would’ve played more games. When he retired from one-day cricket to concentrate on Tests, the team didn’t particularly miss him.
A useful lower order bat, Warne was also an exceptional fielder, mainly in the slips, taking 80 catches. Tactically he was a genius, and well publicised off-field incidents prevented him from leading Australia. Australia still thrived without his leadership.
Still, he remained a match winner. If Warne couldn’t do it, no one could. He single-handedly brought Australia back into the World Cup semi final against South Africa in 1999, a spell resulting in four wickets.
Warne was a match winner, one of the best ever to have played international cricket. Certainly he was a flawed genius, most are, and he deserves his place.
| games | wickets | average | s/rate | econ | best | 5 for | 4 four | runs | |
|
205 |
357 |
22.89 |
29.10 |
4.70 |
5-22 |
9 |
14 |
8173 |
Brett Lee has an exceptional record in one-day cricket. Statistically, he is better suited to the short format than he was in Tests. His average is about nine runs better than his Test average, the strike rate of 29.10 far better than his Test rate of 53.30. If Lee bowls ten overs, he’ll usually get two wickets.
Age doesn’t seem to be limiting his performance. At 35, he can still bowl at 145 kilometers an hour, hostile, as he always was, blasting batsmen out with pace and occasional accuracy.
Lee was 24 when he debuted for Australia against Pakistan at the Gabba. On 9 January 2000, his ten overs weren’t pleasing, 0-39 bowling second change. Australia lost a low scoring game by 45 runs. Three days later against India he went wicketless again, 0-49. After five games he had four wickets at an average of 46. A faultless performance, 5-27 against India in his sixth game set him off, and he took 17 wickets across six games.
Remaining second change behind Glenn McGrath, Damien Flemming and Jason Gillespie didn’t affect Lee’s enthusiasm for bowling. He kept hammering in, each ball delivered with all he had, a man in love with bowling. He appeared certain to burn out, tiredness or injury, going flat out like that. Though injury and form did impact his career, he’s made it back every time.
The first time Lee opened the bowling he was hammered, 0-70 from eight overs against Zimbabwe on 21 January 2001. Two weeks later he took 1-72 from eight overs, again against Zimbabwe. On 9 June, 2001 against Pakistan at Cardiff, Lee was belted, 1-85 from ten overs. It took until 2002 before Lee developed consistency. In those two years he was still taking wickets but conceding too many runs.
By 2003, Lee was peaking. He opened the bowling behind McGrath. In the 2003 World Cup in South Africa, Lee took 22 wickets, an integral part of Australia’s Cup defence. Despite his success, McGrath was preferred as opening bowler. Lee did assume the role when McGrath was out, and it wasn’t until 26 January 2005, in Lee’s 96 ODI, that he became Australia’s incumbent opening bowler.
Since 26 January 2005, Lee has played 113 one-day games. He’s opened the bowling in 110 of them, just three times has he bowled the second over. His consistency, to maintain that mantle, has been extraordinary. Statistics like that are often overlooked, yet they epitomise how good Lee has been for Australia,
Lee is Australia’s fastest bowler since Jeff Thompson. Capable of swinging the ball at pace and finding the seam, Lee doesn’t always rely on speed but he certainly scared batsmen and hurried them up, gaining many wickets through timid shots, fear causing the batsman to panic.
For twelve years Lee has been extraordinarily fit, a speed weapon in the short game, tall, sleek and intimidating. Simply, he is a superb athlete.
He’s been got at, all bowlers have, and though his weakness is leaking runs, 4.7 an over, expensive in comparison to others, his strike rate ensures selection.
| games | wickets | average | s/rate | econ | best | 5 for | 4 four | runs | |
|
138 |
203 |
24.71 |
36.7 |
4.03 |
5-44 |
1 |
4 |
5018 |
Craig McDermott had pace and aggression, could swing the ball, find the seam, bowling with relentless attack and a redheaded belligerence. Like most fast bowlers, his career was interrupted by injury. For long periods he was out of favour with Bob Simpson, unable to conform to the coach’s demands.
McDermott was 20 when he debuted against the West Indies in 1985 at the MCG. He was expensive, 1-52 from 9.5 overs, but the wicket was Viv Richards, not a bad man to claim in your debut match.
The rapid rise at a young age didn’t last. He lost control of the ball, too many wides, bowling too full. When he lost his Test spot, Simpson told him to slow his pace and become a swing bowler. The change didn’t work. He remained in the state side until former West Indian Joel Garner offered blunt advice.
‘You’re a fast bowler,’ Garner said. ‘Just run in and bowl fast.’
When McDermott came back, he was a fast bowler with greater control, consistently finding the right length. He only played 138 one-day games, and though his average and strike rate are similar to other bowlers like Jason Gillespie and Damien Flemming, McDermott edges them out. He was a strike bowler, maintaining his pace throughout his ten overs, regularly getting the best batsmen out.
McDermott was a key member of Australia’s resurgence that culminated with victory against the odds in the 1987 World Cup. As McDermott’s consistency improved, so did Australia’s. Though they didn’t dominate world cricket during McDermott’s era, the West Indies saw to that, he helped set the benchmark. Allan Border and Mark Taylor used McDermott to help develop the team that would dominate world cricket for 15 years.
A persistent knee injury ended his career at 31, forcing his retirement about three years too soon. He was another Australian to suffer at the might of the West Indies, playing in an era of rebuilding rather than total dominance. The opposition was better when McDermott was playing, and he performed admirably.
A twisted bowel in 1993 ruined his Ashes series, getting sent home following major surgery without playing a Test. In 1995, during a beach run in the West Indies, McDermott tore ankle ligaments, getting sent home without playing a Test or one-day game. His body was averse to overseas tours.
McDermott is often overlooked by people when considering Australia’s best players, which proves how much harder it is to bowl rather than bat.
His average, 24.71, is good, as are the strike rate and economy. McDermott doesn’t open the bowling in my team, but he was too good to miss out.
| games | wickets | average | s/rate | econ | best | 5 for | 4 four | runs | |
|
250 |
381 |
22.02 |
34 |
3.88 |
7-15 |
7 |
9 |
8391 |
Glenn McGrath was never considered quick, which is surprising for a man of his height, 195 centimetres. Batsmen, though, said he hit the bat hard despite the medium pace, about 132 kilometres per hour, much slower than Lee, Dennis Lillee, Thompson, McDermott and Merve Hughes.
He was still quick though. On 16 January, 1994, McGrath hit South African Peter Kirsten in the head on a bouncy Perth pitch. The ball reared up unexpectedly off a good length. Kirsten didn’t play a shot, didn’t sway or attempt to get out of the way. Simply, he ducked his head six inches, in the way of the ball and got knocked out.
The vision is sickening.
England’s Keven Pietersen famously boasted about charging McGrath during the 2006/7 one-day series. True to word, Pietersen charged, ending up with a busted rib and retiring hurt.
The vision is hilarious.
McGrath, it seems, could bowl quick when he wanted to.
Mostly though, he set the ball at a nagging length, the corridor of uncertainty, his height a natural enhancement to bounce. On a helpful pitch he caressed the spot, short of a length where the batsmen had to play.
Like all fast bowlers, McGrath sledged when things weren’t going right. The words, without the ability to bowl a bouncer, grew more hostile as he aged. Verbals aside, his aggression was taken out on the pitch, a nagging length that induced a snick here, an edge there, another wicket.
McGrath proved blinding pace isn’t necessary, a constant tease instead, metronomic and predictable, not much to hit from everything to play at.
He debuted against South Africa on 9 December 1993 at the MCG. Like most rookies, McGrath didn’t perform well, 0-28 from 8.4 overs. Three days later, against New Zealand in Adelaide, he took 4-32 from 8.2 overs.
It took McGrath two games to make an impact. After ten games he’d taken 19 wickets, an exciting prelude to his first slump, wicketless for five matches, all against South Africa. The recovery, for a rookie, gained momentum in his 24th game, 5-52 against Pakistan on 30 October 1994 in Colombo.
From 1993 to 2007, McGrath bowled as if in a replay, his action the same, the ball landing in the same spots, rarely getting belted. McGrath attacked and contained the batsmen with the same delivery, bowling with plenty of passion and subtle variation in length. Accuracy his greatest weapon, McGrath didn’t need to deviate, ever, from his game plan, on the spot, in the zone, difficult to score from, hard to defend against.
Labelled robotic, dull, a bowler without charisma, McGrath was lucky he didn’t need any. Wickets answered the critics. He played in four World Cup tournaments, taking six wickets in three victorious finals.
McGrath opened the bowling for Australia, trusted, relied upon, heady responsibilities. He was splendid in execution. Currently he is Australia’s greatest wicket-taker in one-day cricket. Brett Lee continues to steam in and will take the number one spot.
They formed a grand combination, helping Australia dominate the one-day game for years. In a hundred years, people will be comparing Australia’s fast bowlers to two men, Glenn McGrath and Dennis Lillee.
| games | wickets | average | s/rate | econ | best | 5 for | 4 four | runs | |
|
63 |
103 |
20.82 |
34.8 |
3.58 |
5-34 |
1 |
5 |
2145 |
Denis Lillee played in one of the toughest eras in the game’s history, the mid-seventies, a decade where South Africa was expelled from international cricket, the West Indies started building and Kerry Packer tore the game in two.
Lillee is widely regarded as Australia’s greatest fast bowler, despite Glenn McGrath’s stellar career. At his peak, Lilled formed a deadly combination with Jeff Thompson, two lightening quick bowlers who terrorised England and the West Indies. Injury struck Lillee down at his peak, when he was quick and mean. He is perhaps the first bowler diagnosed with a stress fracture in his back, a bad one.
He wore a plaster cast for several months to allow the fracture to heal. During the comeback, he employed a running coach, learning how to sprint. When he returned to the Australian team, Lillee’s approach was slower, tighter, without flamboyance. He never regained the pace, reinventing himself, swing, seam and a wicked leg-cutter.
One-day cricket was in infancy in Lillee’s era, he played 63 games, but his record depicts a bowler adept at the game. He took 103 wickets at 20.82, a terrific average, almost three runs better than his Test average. His strike rate and economy are comparable, if not better than Australia’s best bowlers.
Tall, hairy with a fashionable moustache, Lillee looked like a fast bowler. One-day cricket allowed short, explosive spells, where his aggression was amplified. More than a quarter of his games, seventeen, were played against the West Indies, yielding 24 wickets at an average of 27.50.
Lillee is unlucky to be named twelfth man, but he didn’t make the Ramble’s side because of the brevity of his career. Undoubtedly he was a great fast bowler, and there can be no greater reserve.
If you’re wondering how Lillee’s acquired his nickname, Fot, this should clear it up. The story, and it may be embellished, has an exasperated captain, Ian Chappell, hands on hips, yelling at Lillee.
‘What the hell is the matter? You’re bowling like a fucking old tart.’
From that moment on, Lillee was known as Fot.
