Where there’s a will, there is a way to winning at the WACA
Derek Pringle looks back at his good, bad and indifferent experiences of one of England’s least favourite venues
The WACA – it’s even pronounced like it is meant to hurt. And for England it has. Their record there, one win, nine defeats and three draws since 1970, is about as bad as it gets for teams at a single venue in Test cricket.
There are reasons for this poor showing, some masquerading as excuses. The WACA pitches, made from a special kind of clay sourced from a place called Bulli Creek, have been the quickest and bounciest in cricket history.
It is quite usual there for the wicketkeeper to stand 30 yards back and still take the ball head high, though maybe not these days now the clay has lost some of its spring. Even so, it is unique, which makes the decision to stop playing Tests there one of the more unfathomable in a game known for its barmy decisions.
Once Australia discovered fast bowlers, teams playing at the WACA needed courage, patience and a strong back foot game to survive let alone flourish. But flourish batsmen can, providing they check many of the shots that get them runs elsewhere when the ball is not flying through waist high and above from a good length.
I played an Ashes Test at the WACA 35 years ago. On that occasion it was the first Test of the series. We prepared for it by playing Western Australia there first, a team that included their big guns Dennis Lillee, Terry Alderman, Rod Marsh, Kim Hughes and Bruce Yardley. They also had Graeme Wood and Bruce Laird who’d both opened the batting for Australia as well as rising stars Geoff Marsh (father of Shaun and Mitch, both in the current Australian squad) and Ken MacLeay. So no easy ride.
We won a hard-fought game by one wicket, which boosted confidence. What struck me most, given Lillee had dropped a yard in pace by then from his 70s peak, was not how difficult batting was but how tricky bowling could be, especially for a medium-fast seamer like me.
I remember bowling to Laird, probing what I felt was a decent line and length, and he’d just raise his bat and watch it bounce over the stumps. Even when I pushed it up a bit further and straighter, he’d still leave it alone. Obviously, if I dropped short he was on to it like a flash, cutting and pulling the ball away for runs. But then I knew he was a good back foot player so was determined to keep the short stuff to a minimum.
Basically, he frustrated me into bowling half-volleys which he’d punch back past me, not for four, but for two or three. Of course today’s batsmen don’t have the patience to do that so line and length can bring its perils. But basically I felt toothless. After all, my height, which brought me extra bounce on flatter, slower surfaces, was not an asset here, at least not against those used to batting on this trampoline of a pitch.
In the Test we batted first and made 411. Chris Tavare, an obdurate batsman in England colours anyway, took occupation of the crease to new levels of self-denial. Opening the innings, he’d reached 49 by tea on the first day and 66 by the close. When Yardley finally dismissed him just before lunch the following day, he’d made 89, an innings that had lasted just under eight hours and taken 337 balls (Alastair Cook please take note).
His solidity allowed Derek Randall, David Gower, Allan Lamb to indulge
England’s record in Perth; one win, nine defeats and three draws since 1970 is about as bad as it gets
their natural flamboyance, all of them good back foot players. Our tail wagged too, Bob Taylor adding 69 precious runs with numbers nine, 10 and 11.
My contribution was a 19-ball duck, Lillee trimming my off bail with a legcutter I would not have got a bat on had I played it a hundred times. In fact, Lillee went up for a caught behind and was just about to give me a gobful of his mind when he saw the bail lying on the ground.
Randall, who was batting, rather brilliantly as it happens, at the other end, told me afterwards that I should have been further forward when playing it. Given it was difficult to hit the stumps at the WACA unless batsmen missed a very full ball, he had a point. But Lillee was still quick enough to pin you back with the short stuff, so getting on the front foot was not my first thought.
When we bowled, my job and that of Geoff Miller, our spinner, was to bowl into the Fremantle Doctor, the stiff breeze that tends to blow from the southwest after lunch. The Doctor helps to cool players down though not if you have to bowl into it. As in the State game, I was fairly toothless.
With Greg Chappell making a fine hundred and their lower order wagging well, they overhauled our total to take a first innings lead of 13. With just five sessions of the game to go, the draw looked nailed-on especially as they were a bowler down in Alderman.
At the fag end of our first innings,
during a drinks break, the pitch had been invaded by two dozen drunken oiks. One of them had swiped Alderman’s sunhat, something, unsurprisingly, he’d taken umbrage to. Seeing red, Alderman chased and tackled the miscreant and in the ensuing melee, which Lillee had joined, somehow dislocated his shoulder. Police made 26 arrests but Alderman was out for the series.
Even so, we still conspired to get ourselves into trouble and closed the fourth day on 163-5. Fortunately, Randall, who’d already batted superbly for his 78 in the first innings, was not done yet, making one of the finest Test hundreds I have ever seen from the other end.
He and I shared a stand of 50 for the eighth wicket but watching him was an education in how to bat at the WACA and to handle yourself against a rampant Aussie bowling attack. People talk now about sledging and its iniquitous effects, but it was no exaggeration to say that Randall was abused almost every ball of that innings, especially if Lillee was bowling.
What the Aussies didn’t realise was that Randall liked to be distracted between balls as it stopped him fretting. In any case, he gave as good as he got, with blade as well as brickbats, making the game safe in the process.
I finished unbeaten on 47 and found the experience exhilarating. I could not cut, pull or carve as well as Randall, but I concentrated as never before and eventually felt in control. For some reason Lillee did not sledge me though he did say “well played” afterwards.
Unfortunately, my lack of wickets meant I was dropped for the next Test, which saw us defeated.Yet, I’ll always cherish my memory of that WACA Test, one of only four, hopefully rising to five in a few days time, England have not lost.