Sydney spectacular

ON my only visit to Australia, 11 years ago, I was lucky enough to walk through two of the most sacred of all cricket grounds. My ticket Down Under had been paid for by a bunch of political scientists at La Trobe University, in Melbourne. Reaching a day before the conference, I had time to visit the Melbourne Cricket Ground. That institution was celebrating its tercentenary, as part of which a very fine photographic exhibition was on display. One saw here portraits of the great cricketers who had played at the MCG.

It was comforting, among all the English, Australian and West Indian names, to find mention of two of my countrymen, Kumar Shri Ranjitsinhji and Bhagwat Chandrasekhar. The exhibition was a delight, not least because the official guide had half-a-century of cricket watching behind him. Indeed, his first outing at the MCG had been in 1932-33, when as a eight-year-old boy he watched Bradman get a first ball duck and then a second innings century against Douglas Jardine's Englishmen.

I had a day or two free after the meeting as well. These I spent in Adelaide, where my old flatmate from Bangalore had settled, marrying a local girl. I wished to see him, of course, but also the Adelaide Oval, that charming ground underneath a wooded hill, a splendid cathedral overlooking it. I walked in through the Clarrie Grimmett Gates, across the ground where my hero Vijay Hazare had scored 100 in each innings 40 years previously, and out through the Victor Richardson Gates. I was satisfied, although the icing on the cake would have been a walk across the turf at Sydney as well. I shall leave that for a future occasion, I thought, and returned home to India.

Now there will not be another time. For the turf at the Sydney Cricket Ground (SCG) is to be completely relaid. The mud and grass dug up to be replaced will be packaged in individual containers, and sold. One can thus have as one's own property tufts of turf once trod upon by the studded boots of Bradman, Sobers, Warne, Gavaskar and the like. There will be a long queue of buyers, and the tins will be sold out before I next get to Australia.

The SCG is the home of the New Sough Wales cricket team. For years, decades even, the Sheffield Shield was dominated by the rivalry between New South Wales and Victoria. Then, after Bradman moved from Sydney to Adelaide and Clarrie Grimmett joined him, the Shield became, for a time, a three-cornered contest. After the Don retired, South Australia returned to being an also-ran, until its revival, in the Sixties, under the leadership of the Chappell brothers. In the Seventies the hitherto unfashionable State of Western Australia, with cricketers such as Graham McKenzie, Rodney Marsh and Denis Lillee within its ranks, made a strong bid for supremacy. Later still, the Queensland of Allan Border, Craig McDermott and Ian Healey started staking its claim to the Sheffield Shield.

Through all this, New South Wales and Victoria have remained the Big Brothers of Australian cricket. The staggering strength of New South Wales cricket, as well as the consistently high standards the State has maintained, become pretty clear if one chooses an all-time eleven. Who, for instance, will open the innings? One place might be safely assigned to Victor Trumper, that saintly character and majestic strokemaker who old-timers held to be even greater than Bradman. But who will partner him? His own contemporary, the skilled defensive batsman Warren Bardsley? Or that other left-hander, if a more fortright one, Arthur Morris? Or, indeed, an outstanding southpaw of our own time, Mark Taylor, who was also a brilliant slip fielder to boot?

Against the position of number three we shall mark down the name of D. G. Bradman, and the captaincy to go with it. That was easy, but consider now the two remaining batting places. Surely we must include Charlie Macartney, the "Governor General", whose character is revealed in the compliment he once paid the great S. F. Barnes ("How good is Barnes? Before I went out to bat in the Lord's Test of 1912 I told my team-mates I would hit the beggar for six. I had to wait until I was 68 before I did so. That's how good he was.") But can we leave out Dough Walters, the Dungog Dasher, maker of many Test hundreds and a handy medium-pace bowler besides? Where then does that leave Stan McCabe, who played three of the greatest attacking innings in Test history (at Brisbane in 1932-33, at Johannesburg in 1935-36, and at Trent Bridge in 1938 - of the last his captain, Bradman, remarked, "If I could bat like that I would be a proud man, Stan")? Or a certain Steven Rodger Waugh, bravest of men, never better when placed in a corner, than whom no cricketer has ever loved the baggy green cap more? Or Archie Jackson, that precociously gifted contemporary of the Don who died of tuberculosis at 23? The list might go on, and on - Michael Slater, Mark Waugh, Norman O'Neill, Syd Barnes, Syd Gregory ...

After two most contentious places, number six can be uncontroversially allotted to Keith Ross Miller, originally of Melbourne, but who came to play for and captain New South Wales. Yet there are other greatly gifted all-rounders too. One, who came before Miller, was J. M. Gregory, maker of the fastest 100 in Test cricket, also a furiously fast bowler and high class first slip. Another, who came after, was Alan Davidson, master of swing and seam and a brave lower-order batsman, and also the finest fieldsman of his time (and known thus as the "Claw".) A third, who bowled at the other end to Miller, was Ray Lindwall. Lindwall is known for his flowing action and mastery of pace and swing - his opponents, always the best judges, reckoned him to be finest new ball bowler of his time. He was also a forceful batsman in the lower middle order, the scorer of two Test hundreds.

Turn now to slow bowlers, and confront again an embarrassment of riches. Make a list, a short list, of the 10 best wrist-spinners who have ever played anywhere, and find that three of them played for New South Wales. These were Arthur Mailey, millionaire of spin, W. J. O'Reilly, known with reason as the "Tiger", and Richie Benaud, who, though not as destructive as the other two, was a vastly better batsman and fielder. Not that Sydney has been short of finger spinners either. Indians of my generation will remember well the name of Ashley Mallet, who took 28 wickets on an Australian tour of this country 30 years ago. Much further back in time there was M. A. Noble, an artful slow-medium off- spinner who also happened to be a capable batsman and superb captain.

The stumper's slot is, I think, a straight toss-up between Hanson Carter, an undertaker by profession who came, originally, from Yorkshire, and the man who replaced him for both State and country, W. A. "Bertie" Oldfield. Both could bat usefully, and both excelled in keeping to spin. The "pure" fast bowler's slot is likewise a straight duel - between two mean, moody and batsman-hating men. One is F. R. Spofforth, the Demon, who terrorised W. G. Grace and lesser Englishmen. The other is Glen McGrath, possessed of almost equal skill and a fouler tongue to go with it.

My own final choices, based on some knowledge and a certain amount of prejudice, are 1. Arthur Morris 2. Victor Trumper 3. Don Bradman (captain) 4. Stan McCabe 5. Steve Waugh (vice- captain) 6. Keith Miller 7. Richie Benaud 8. Ray Lindwall 9. Bertie Oldfield (wicket-keeper) 10. Bill O'Reilly 11. Frederick Spofforth.

I am not a Sydneysider, nor an Australian even. To choose an eleven of this nature must therefore be an act of blasphemy. I shall seek forgiveness by offering an alternate, New South Wales eleven, an eleven that might as swiftly annihilate the best of Victoria or Queensland or Western Australia. The NSW Second XI would read, in batting order: 1. Mark Taylor (vice-captain) 2. Warren Bardsley 3. Charlie Macartney 4. Archie Jackson 5. Doug Walters 6. M. A. Noble (captain) 7. Jack Gregory 8. Alan Davidson 9. Hanson Carter (wicket-keeper) 10. Arthur Mailey 11. Glen McGrath.

RAMACHANDRA GUHA

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