‘There will be an inquiry’
– Former New South Wales Premier Neville Wran in the months before his Corrective Services Minister, Rex Jackson, was jailed for accepting bribes to secure the early release of prisoners.
Before England toured Australia in 1986/87, they were in disarray. Their previous eleven Tests had yielded eight losses and three draws. David Gower had been dumped as captain following six consecutive losses, five of those against the West Indies. His replacement, Mike Gatting, had captained five Tests for two losses and three draws. The British media labelled the tourists as the country’s worst squad ever assembled to defend the Ashes.
In focusing on age, form and fitness, the tabloids ignored England’s strengths, an abundance of mental toughness and experience. The tabloids ignored Australia’s weaknesses, a lack of mental strength and experience. Collectively, England’s team had played 378 Tests, Australia 183, with 84 of those to their captain, Allan Border.
Although England had won four of the previous six Ashes series, the tabloids and the fans expected the worst. England’s form during the first class games was dreadful, prompting a famous quote from The Independent’s Martin Johnson, who wrote of his countrymen, ‘England have just one problem, they can’t bat, they can’t bowl and they can’t field.’
Bad form was a ruse.
Gatting led an able team containing Ian Botham, John Embury, David Gower, Graham Dilley, Phil Edmonds and Chris Broad. The Poms won the first Test in Brisbane at the Gabba by seven wickets. Botham, in a savage mood, hit a belligerent 138 in the first innings total of 456. In his fourteenth and last Test century, Botham treated Merv Hughes with disdain. The faster Hughes bowled, the further Botham hit it. In one infamous over, Hughes went for 22 runs.
During a rain interruption on the second day, Hughes was sitting outside the dressing room when Botham asked how he was. The conversation was short, a recollection, Hughes telling Botham they’d met before, years earlier during a coaching clinic in country Victoria.
The following transcript of Hughes’s recollection is taken from the biography, Merv, the Full Story, written by Patrick Keane:
‘…but I was at a clinic you (Botham) did at a place called Benalla when you were playing for University in Melbourne grade cricket. He looked at me and couldn’t believe it and asked, “Did I pass on any words of wisdom?”
‘…I said I was right into cricket and wanted to become a fast bowler but he’d told me to give it away and take up tennis or golf because there was a lot more money in it and they were both more enjoyable. He (Botham – during the rain interruption) looked at me, stood up, and said, “You should’ve listened to me.”
Hughes, dejected, wanted to learn the vagaries of Test cricket from a legend and got sledged instead, during an unscheduled break on the second day.
That moment, as described in Keane’s book, typified the difference in attitude and belief between the two teams 24 years ago. The Aussies had none. The Poms, after bowling Australia out for 248 and enforcing the follow-on, wondered how they could possibly lose the series. With three wickets, Botham was the man of the match.
Tests in Perth and Adelaide were drawn. In Melbourne, Australia was in trouble early. When Border was out caught behind, the Aussies were 3-80. Dean Jones batted patiently and intelligently. When he cheered his half century, Australia was 3-99. Less than an hour later, they were all out for 141 on the first day. Jones hit Australia’s only half century, top-scoring with 59.
Australia’s team was interesting, only five recognised batsmen, Geoff Marsh, David Boon, Border and Jones. Steve Waugh came in at five, followed by Greg Matthews at six and Peter Sleep at seven. The team was light on batsmen, heavy on spinners and laden with an unproven all-rounder (Waugh) who averaged 17 in Tests at the time.
The collapse was heard on ABC radio, an incapable AM artefact with a low threshold for volume. The trip to Point Lonsdale, in a big orange van, didn’t take long. A mate, Russ, spent summer with his family in a caravan park right on the beach. I was tagging along. His parents had a big caravan surrounded on both sides by annexes, a neat set up. Russ said the cold waters offered good swimming and fishing, and a New Year’s Eve party.
England was all out for 349 on the second day, a lead of 208. On 28 December, the third day of the Test, Russ and I ventured into the water to hunt fish with spear guns as Australia’s openers, Boon and Marsh, went out to bat.
Clad in wetsuit, calves aching from paddling, we hunted for hours. About midday I hit a huge cod dead centre at close range. The fish bucked and kicked, spinning, swimming in a frantic circle as it tried escaping the spear lodged in its belly. Grabbing the fish by the gills, I surfaced, calling Russ for help. Slow motion through the water, Russ kicked toward me as I held onto the desperate fish, as Australia lost Marsh, run-out for 60. The dreadful mix-up left the Aussies on 4-153. Moments later, as the fish threw the spear and its fins scratched my arms and belly, I let it go. It weaved fatally through the murk of sand and blood as Matthews was out, bowled for a duck.
As Russ and I hunted the fish, finding it dead nearby, Sleep was run-out by Steve Waugh. Tim Zoehrer was caught for one. Emerging from the water, I carried the dead fish, a big one about seventy centimetres long, fat in the belly. People gathered around the spear fishers, gawking at the fish, taking photos.
Surprised by my emotion, I gave the fish to Russ, as a man congratulated us on the kill. ‘I haven’t seen a cod that size around here for years,’ the man said. Russ and I walked the beach, an attraction, hunter gatherers, as Hughes was the last wicket to fall, Australia bowled out for 194, losing inside three days.
Carrying the fish into the caravan park, Russ asked an old-timer what was happening in the cricket.
‘We didn’t make enough to make them bat again,’ the old man said. ‘The Poms won by an innings and 14 runs.’
How a Test side couldn’t make 350 runs across two innings seemed incomprehensible. The loss was embarrassing, hurtful, disgusting. Russell’s mom, Lorraine, cooked the fish for dinner. There was too much. People in nearby caravans were offered a piece. The conversation was duplicitous, nice fish, how about those Aussies.
The big cod was the last fish I have ever shot. Its death coincided with the day Australia lost the Ashes on home soil for the first time in a decade. Eating the fish for dinner wasn’t enjoyable, and not just because I killed it.
On 29 December, the day following the dreadful defeat, I bought a paper from a kid on the hustle in the caravan park. The coverage left me unsatisfied, because I wanted more than what was printed. The loss couldn’t be explained in photos, short profiles on key performers and a basic chronological article featuring the dismissals. I wanted a coronial inquest and didn’t get it from the newspaper. In the caravan, clearing the intrigue of a late night, ABC radio offered greater analysis, experts discussing random topics, ways to mend the team, why Matthews didn’t bowl, why good players were playing without hope or confidence.
The ABC provided intelligent discussion. Much was learned.
Australia bowled 120.6 overs in the Boxing Day Test. Sleep took 1-65 from 28 overs, Matthews, who took 61 wickets from 33 Tests, didn’t bowl a ball. Border mustn’t have wanted Matthews in the team. Perhaps he’d argued with the selectors. Sleep didn’t bowl well but was retained for the last Test in Sydney. Matthews was dropped, in favour of Peter Taylor.
Two weeks later, Australia won the last Test in Sydney, our first victory in eleven Tests. Sleep and Taylor took 13 wickets between them for the match. Having left Russ at Port Phillip Bay, I was at Corinella, in Western Port Bay, with my family, watching the cricket on an aged black and white television, or, when forced outside, listening to a relic radio that distorted madly if the volume was turned up beyond six. I fished from the pier rather than hunting with a spear.
Killing fish wasn’t as enjoyable as winning a Test. Winning was euphoria, proof the side was on the way back. In the ensuing years, I have savoured each Australian win, no matter the opponent. Losing, while aggravating, is as fascinating as winning.
Following the Ashes defeat in 1986/87, Australia reviewed their processes, stuck with a band of cricketers who exhibited talent and mental toughness, and discarded players like Zoehrer, Sleep and, with the exception of a small cameo, Matthews. The team learned from the defeat and rebuilt, winning the Ashes back two years later.
This summer of cricket, the 2010/11humiliation, will become known as the summer Australia had to have. Statistics don’t lie, which means it is easy to find reasons for losing. We weren’t good enough. Losing so badly to England has already created a massive inquiry. People will lose their jobs. Players will be dropped.
The simple question, though, needs to be answered by the marketing department, because Cricket Australia’s message must get through to kids, as it did in the seventies with World Series Cricket.
Our Shield sides aren’t producing stars. Cricket Australia needs to find out why. It needs to reach out to every kid throughout the country and spread the message, there are two seasons, football and cricket. You must play either. Those who don’t are un-Australian.
Let the former stars work out why our bowlers can’t swing the ball, and our batsmen love getting edges, and why Shane Watson can’t concentrate.
This Ashes series has been fascinating, if not satisfying. I’ve watched, listened and read everything I could, given cricket all the time I could muster, showing my loyalty. Two things about sport I love, you’re always losing faith or affirming it. And when it is lost, there will be an inquiry.
