BILLY’S HARDEST CALL
How heartbreak brought hope
How heartbreak brought hope
A BOUT OF BAD LUCK SEALED THE SPORTING ICON’S FATE
When Brent “Billy” Bowden stood at his mailbox, ominously eyeing up the letter he’d received from New Zealand Cricket, only one thought crossed his mind: “What have I done wrong now?”
But the affable Kiwi umpire – best known for his crooked finger – needn’t have worried.
The letter announced New Zealand Cricket was appointing him an honorary member, in recognition of outstanding service to cricket, alongside the likes of former players
Lance Cairns, Shane Bond,
Ann McKenna, Bev Brentnall, Ewen Chatfield and John Reid.
“It was such a shock and a tremendous thrill, because, believe it or not, I’ve had quite a few letters from them in my time and not as positive as this one!” laughs the 56-year-old.
“No umpire has ever received this honour, so it’s a feather in my cap, not just for me but for umpiring in this country.”
In typical Billy style, when the Weekly calls him at the Hamilton motel where he’s based for that day’s match, he answers the phone, “Hello, penthouse suite.”
Currently officiating for the domestic first-class season and women’s international games, Billy jokes he’s been around so long people probably think he’s “almost 80 years old, but with the body of a 40-year-old”.
“I can say with a smile on my face that I’m not the oldest umpire in cricket. Nor has growing older toned me down. Actually, I think I’m a better all-round umpire than I was 15 years ago,” he muses.
“I’ve had plenty of knockdowns and there’s always an element of truth in criticisms so I’ve never stopped learning. Of course, I hate making mistakes, but I’ve learned not to sweat the small stuff.”
Although never looking for fame, Billy found himself attracting a lot of it after debuting a wacky array of signals and an eye for showmanship, while umpiring hockey in the late 1980s.
“I was just expressing myself and enjoying the moments,” he says matter-of-factly.
His first “expression” saw him moving like a crab towards the centre line, blowing the whistle when the goal was scored.
“It wasn’t staged at all, it was 100% me, natural, concentrated, no additives. Then I passed that through to my cricket umpiring.”
He fondly remembers when the England touring team came over for an opening game of Cricket Max at Mt Smart Stadium, for Danny Morrison’s testimonial match.
It was January 7, 1997, and New Zealand captain Martin Crowe encouraged Billy to “let your hair down”. Cricket fans started to take notice of his flamboyant moves.
“Three weeks later, I umpired the one-day international [ODI] at Eden Park between England and New Zealand. The next day when I woke up at home, Dad came into my room at 7am, threw the newspaper at the end of my bed and said, ‘Well, son, you’ve done it now!’”
There on the front page was a four-photo segment of the umpire with the headline “Billy Bowden does the Hokey Cokey”.
“I wasn’t expecting that at all. It’s just who I am! I need to move around and have fun. Sure, once you do something different you’re going to have people loving you or trying to knock you down. But one thing’s for certain, I’m having more fun than the critics are.”
He insists his intentions
were never to bring the game into disrepute or to draw attention to himself.
“I’d like to think I’m also known for my professionalism and the respect I had for the game. Dad always drummed into me: ‘Respect the game, son, and let the other man go first.’
“That advice has helped me tremendously over the years and it’s why I’ve always let the players leave the field first.”
His dad Marcus and mum Jeanette, who’ve both passed away, were his biggest fans.
“They looked at everything that went in the paper, good or bad, and cut it out. They would have been proud as punch to see me get the recognition of being an honorary member of New Zealand Cricket.”
Born in west Auckland’s Henderson, Billy grew up as a “preacher’s kid”. The family moved every five years or so, depending on where Marcus was called to work as a baptist church minister.
While at high school, Billy quickly earned his nickname from classmate and former All Black and Kiwi rugby league star Frano Botica.
“It was a combination of Billy Bunter – I was always first to the school tuck shop when the bell rang – and Billy the Kid, ready to fool around.”
After leaving school, the promising cricketer was named in the Auckland A squad only to have his sporting dreams dashed when he was hit by a virus which developed into rheumatoid arthritis.
It affected his elbows, left wrist and fingers, giving him the trademark crooked-finger dismissal he has used since 1989.
“I was 21, fit, healthy and raring to go places, when suddenly I woke up feeling achy throughout my whole body and I lost two stone [13kg] within a few weeks,” he explains.
Dreams of playing professional cricket were left behind as he was sick for almost two years and admits it was a bleak time in his life.
“I was angry and disillusioned for a while there. But then I thought, ‘Well, I could whinge and moan or I could turn the negative into a positive and try to not let arthritis beat me,’” he says. “Although it may have shut a door, it’s opened up a few windows for me too and got me where I am today.”
Billy’s umpiring statistics are impressive – 84 test matches, 200 ODIs and 24 Twenty20 games – but, he says, these milestones pale in comparison to his other passion: his family.
His two children from his first marriage, Brooke (30) and Fraser (27) are now parents themselves.
“It’s quite surreal being a grandparent. And of course, my wife Jennifer and our youngest sons Samuel (9) and Caleb (5) bring so much joy to my life as well.”
He adds, “I love walking the kids to school and doing the cooking and house duties, which I find therapeutic.”
Jennifer (47), a registered nutritionist and columnist for New Zealand Listener, does the “heavy parenting load” over summer while Billy’s away. In winter, it’s his turn.
Going out on top is one of his goals and Billy believes the toughest call will be off the field when the time comes to hang up his hat.
“I want to go out at ‘five to’ not ‘five past’. At this stage in my career, I believe it’s around ‘20 to’. I’ve still got a few more minutes up my sleeve,” he winks conspiratorially.
“When I retire, I’d like to coach and mentor the new breed of umpires coming through. That excites me, because I love people and I love talking and would like to think I can offer something from my 30 years of umpiring.”