‘He is irreplaceable’: Warnie my match-winner, Warnie my mate

Shane Warne mastered the craft of leg-spin and changed the way cricket was played, bringing subtlety back into game with his lovably brash manner.

After an era dominated by champion West Indies fast bowlers, who would blast you out, Warne winkled batters out with guile and showmanship, mentally tormenting them until they could take no more.

Fast bowlers have pace, bounce and aggression to intimidate. As a spin bowler, Warne did not have that. He had his flippers, zooters and so-called mystery balls, which were mysterious for the fact they largely existed in the heads of his opposition. They just did not spin.

Warne was the best at creating mental turmoil for a batsman. Just ask Daryll Cullinan, who was utterly bamboozled by Warne’s flipper.

He had arrived in Australia in 1993 as their gun cricketer but, like many of his South African teammates, was not a great player against leg-spin, as he had seen so little of it.

Warne got under his skin, no doubt about it. Firstly, Cullinan had no idea how to play his flipper, and from his body language and comments in the media it was evident by midway through the series he was in all sorts of trouble. Warne knew he had his number.

For all the wickets Warne took with the flipper in the first four or five years of his international career, he bowled that ball better before he made it to the top.

I remember leading a developmental Australian side on a tour to Zimbabwe in 1991 with Steve Waugh as my vice-captain alongside younger players such as Warne, Tom Moody, Rod Tucker and Peter McIntyre.

Waugh and I were both in awe after seeing him dismiss Andy Pycroft and Dave Houghton, both fine players, with the flipper. We had not seen anyone bowl that delivery, which in his younger days swung back to the right-hander.

The older he got, the less potent the flipper became for him, but he did not need it, as he had honed the accuracy of his leg-break. His unrelenting competitiveness and subtle variations of his stock ball had the unsettling effect of making batsmen think something was always happening.

The ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’ which accompanied his bowling was borne from the belief he could take a wicket with every ball. He would often say after being hit for six that he was within a couple of overs of getting a player out – often that was true. Only the greats have that bravado.

He would often say after being hit for six that he was within a couple of overs of getting a player out – often that was true. Only the greats have that bravado.

Ian Healy and I used to joke who had the best seat in the house. I said it was me as I did not have the batsman in the way and, being at first slip, I did not have to take every ball. It was my days in the cordon for NSW to the likes of Greg Matthews and Bob Holland that I learned about spin bowling and the subtle field placements needed.

Warne brought another stratosphere of stardom into the dressing room but never did it take over. Two years ago, he invited me backstage to see Ed Sheeran. I met him, watched him play then had a beer and walked back to my hotel.

Bravado: Shane Warne, centre, pictured celebrating victory over England at Old Trafford in 1997.Credit:Rui Vieira, AP

Warne would never coax me out on the town with him because he knew that was not my way. It was this respect on which our friendship off the field was based despite our different lifestyles.

We did not always agree on matters of cricket and life. He was more black or white whereas I live my life in the grey. He’s either full on or full off. At times that rubbed people the wrong way.

But you don’t always have to agree with someone to be good friends with them. My worry today is people are so quick to judge. That if you’re not for me, you’re against me. If we had lived our lives that way we would not have been mates.

More recently, he was widely referred to as ‘The King’, which doesn’t sit well with me as no player should ever be the king of the game. We are all equals. He would not have enjoyed the recent criticism of his commentary, but perhaps he could have been better served by having more senior figures around him, like Ian Chappell and Allan Border, who he respected, to provide dissenting voices.

But if his commentary and lifestyle polarised 10 per cent of the population, you still had 90 per cent who loved him. I suspect even those who did not love him for his off-field behaviour still respected him deep down for his on-field deeds and loved the fact he was Australian.

I suspect even those who did not love him for his off-field behaviour still respected him deep down for his on-field deeds and loved the fact he was Australian.

I was in disbelief and shock when I first heard the news of his death. Now, the overriding emotion is of great sadness. It will really hit home next summer when the cricket is on and there’s no Warnie. There will never be another one like him. He is irreplaceable.

Most Viewed in Sport

From our partners

Source: Read Full Article