In the 70’s prior to World Series Cricket, all international players were part time. It seems extraordinary to think that so many champions had to subsidise their wage by working as teachers, or salespeople for sporting goods, alcohol and cigarette companies.
Visiting Indian, West Indian and Pakistani teams were in heaven coming over for a test series in the Aussie summer. If we thought our players were doing it tough you could triple the challenges experienced by the tourists.
Those teams were laden with talent and frankly many of them could easily have held their own against the millionaires of today.
They were always good natured and took full advantage of what was on offer in Australia. I always remember the former Pakistani captain Intikhab Alam, a rotund leg spinner with a great smile.
He was tenacious but never seemed to take himself too seriously, a bit like our own Doug Walters. No doubt he relished the catering at every ground around the country and much like a certain blonde haired Australian leg spinner in the decades to come, spent little time in the outfield!
Alam’s closest friend was the late Bishen Bedi, a brilliant Indian off spinner who recently passed away. It was typical of that generation of cricket, in that the game was the catalyst for such a beautiful friendship even when politically there was a divide.
Cricket and rugby union have always had a culture of playing hard then letting bygones be bygones over a beer. That didn’t happen in the recent Ashes Series unfortunately and England aren’t the only guilty party.
I’ve struggled to watch cricket over the last ten years simply because of the player attitudes. That good-naturedness and spirit of cricket I grew up with, has probably decreased congruous to the money that’s being offered to the players.
At the full time professional level there have been some memorable on and off field ‘barney’s’ that developed into full blown grudges. Root v Warner, Warner v South Africa, McGrath v everyone, Greg and Trevor Chappell v the population of NZ, S. Waugh v Ambrose and many more.
But when it came to the sub-continent teams, there never seemed to be conflict. Yes Pakistan had fearsome fast bowlers but any friction never seemed to escalate.
Likewise with the Indians. The thought of players like Bishen Bedi and Sunil Gavaskar ‘doing their block’ was simply unthinkable.
All that changed in the mid 2000s when Virat Kholi arrived. He snubbed his nose at the authoritarian Australian bowlers in no uncertain terms and changed the culture of how Indian cricket would be played in the future.
There was one cricketer from the sub-continent before Kholi, who perhaps wasn’t as graceful a batsman as Kholi but no less aggressive and passionate, ‘The Streetfighter’ Javed Miandad.
This is a man you would want in the trenches with you. At only five foot 8 inches tall, he scored almost 30,000 first class runs including 8832 at test level for an average of 52.57. One tough cookie.
Javed would confront the legendary Dennis Lillee at the WACA in 1981 in what was one of the most bizarre incidents ever in test cricket. But before that, I think my younger brother and our Mum may have witnessed the genesis to this ugly outcome.
In the summer of 1976, my younger brother Glen and I accompanied our Mum on the Indian Pacific from Perth to Melbourne to visit our sister Pam who lived there with her husband.
It wasn’t the greatest three day trip for kids of 13 and 10 respectively. We mostly counted kangaroos and emus as well as played the occasional game of Snap. When it all got too much, it was World Championship Wrestling time. I was always Mario Milano and Glen, Bulldog Brower.
Melbourne was incredibly exciting and we couldn’t wait to get to the MCG. The city was abuzz in anticipation of the Centenary Test which was a couple of months away. As a leadup to this landmark game, the Aussies were to play a couple of games against New Zealand and Pakistan.
I still get a tingle going to the MCG as a sixty year old, so going for the first time as kids from WA with 80,000 others was mind-blowing. We were seated in the nose bleed section but it didn’t matter. The crowd was at fever pitch supporting what was a star studded team of our heroes.
Dennis Lillee was at his dominant and intimidating best. Having returned from back surgery, he had lost a little of his ferocious pace but his line and length were laser-like.
He destroyed the Pakistan top order taking two consecutive wickets, setting up a dramatic attempt at a hat trick.
Enter nineteen year old wunderkind, Javed Miandad for his first test innings on Australian soil. Fresh from making a century on debut in New Zealand, Javed was now confronted by Lillee who was determined to knock him down a peg, and 80,000 pro-Australian spectators, many of whom who were halfway through their ‘one carton of beer per man’ ration.
I’ll never forget the chant of Liii-Lee! That day. The noise was palpable and made my brother and I giddy with laughter. We were beside ourselves and physically shaking.
As Javed took his guard and tapped the pitch nervously, Lillee had made his way to the MCG sideboard, well past the commencement of his run up and stood staring resolutely at Javed.
To the ear bleeding chant of Liii-Lee, Liii-Lee!, the moustachioed, hairy chested, chain dangling man of steel cheekily pushed off the sideboard for dramatic effect as if propelling himself toward an uneasy prey.
The noise when he released the ball was explosive and when it hit Javed’s pads, it was combustible! Lillee’s characteristic appeal, knees bent, legs spread, fingers pointing upward were sternly rejected by the umpire.
Lillee then decided to launch a few chosen words at the young Pakistani, gave him an evil eye then returned to his mark accompanied by another raucous build up.
I don’t think Lillee’s show of disrespect that day was ever forgotten by Javed. Five years later they would meet again in an Australian test series, Lillee now an aging veteran and Javed one of the world’s foremost batsman and captain of his country.
At the WACA test Lillee made a few futile attempts to intimidate Javed whilst bowling to him and then inexplicably blocked him as he was taking a run. It made for one the strangest moments in test history and could have had serious implications for both players as well as a possible disqualification of a test match.
Having investigated some explanation as to what drove Lillee to make such an appalling choice that day, he has said that the friction between the two went back over years, so maybe we did witness the source of the aggro that fateful day in 1976?
Good on Javed for defending himself and as for one of my all-time heroes in DK, he had plenty of credits in the bank. His legacy will never be diminished.
As Paul Kelly sings in ‘Little Decisions’:
Hard times are never over, trouble always comes
Still I’m looking forward to tomorrow when it comes
I’ve done a little damage to myself, I didn’t care
There are things a man can’t manage, and that’s the devil’s share
So many memories of cricket at the MCG when I first moved to Melbourne in the late seventies… Inspiring thousands of reenactments playing street cricket. thanks willo.