Over moon when Warnie lands one
I’M not old enough to recall Neil Armstrong walking on the moon, but I can remember where I was when Warnie bowled Mike Gatting with his first ball in Ashes cricket.
It was June, 1993. I’d just turned 16. I was at Mum and Dad’s, watching late at night on a telly I bought the day before at Venture.
It had a remote control, and cost 299 hard-earned dollars.
I’d saved up for it by delivering newspapers and with a part-time job at McDonald’s. I reckon S.K. Warne and M.W. Gatting would have been regular Maccas customers in those days.
I bought the TV because to watch the 1993 Ashes series and, in particular, to see Shane Warne revive the dark art of leg-spin bowling. He did that, with one ball. If you have no idea what I’m talking about, this column might not be for you ... or Google “The Gatting ball”.
You’ll see Warne fresh-faced and peroxided, spinning the ball in his fat fingers. It’s overcast and windy. His long sleeves are buttoned down, but his shirt neck is open, and his gold Lillee-esque necklace is on display. He breathes deep, approaches the crease at a brisk walk and delivers a flattish ball towards Gatting’s legs. It drifts further on that path, then curls sharply the other way, defying the Englishman’s pad, thigh guards and his tentative bat. The only thing it doesn’t miss is the stumps. It crashes into the off-bail. Bullseye! It’s perfect; the cricketing equivalent of Robin Hood splitting his rival’s arrow. Like Gatting, Aussie keeper Ian Healy is fooled by Warne. Lured leg-side, he does a TV commercial-quality Toyota leap behind the stumps.
Behind the microphone Richie Benaud does the occasion sweet justice. He lets a breathtaking moment breathe.
There’s a pause, then: “And he’s done it. He’s started off with the most beautiful delivery.” It’s almost deadpan.
There’s a slight hold of the “thhh” on “with”, but no yelling or hyperbole from the master commentator.
The scene’s a bit different at Mum and Dad’s place.
I’ve jumped from bed and started cutting laps of the darkened loungeroom in my PJs (ie: Looney Tunes silky boxers and hypercolour tee), throwing punches in the air and waking everyone up.
It’s a moment to treasure. A memory that, 26 years later, still has me up late, hoping for another Ashes moon walk.