Rapid bowlers and quick-witted too
BETWEEN them Dennis Lillee and Jeff Thomson took 555 Test wickets and created a reputation that is still talked about in Ashes circles today.
Lillee claimed 355 victims and Thomson 200 to become one of the most fearsome double acts in cricket history.
They were the fire and brimstone of fast bowlers. Like all the best practitioners of their craft they tested the very limits of an opponent’s nerve and technique.
They came together in 1974-75 against an England side led by Mike Denness. In the first Test on an underprepared wicket in Brisbane, Thomson bowled with such speed and venom that legendary paceman Keith Miller, commentating, said: ‘‘Thommo even frightened me and I was 200 yards away.’’
Colin Cowdrey was sitting at home watching the may- hem on television and thinking, ‘‘Rather them than me’’, when he received a phone call asking him to report for duty.
A few days short of his 42nd birthday he found himself facing Lillee and Thomson on a bouncy track in Perth.
Out in the middle he introduced himself to Thomson and shook his hand. This confused Thomson for a moment but didn’t stop him plastering Cowdrey with bouncers.
In his autobiography Denness gave a graphic account of the way the two fast bowlers frayed batsmen’s nerves.
Describing David Lloyd returning to the dressing room after facing Lillee and Thom- son, Denness wrote: ‘‘Within seconds of his dismissal the whole of Lloyd’s body was quivering. His neck and the top half of his body, in particular, were shaking. He was shellshocked . . . . the reaction from his continual ducking and weaving to get out of the firing line.’’
In that series Thomson took 33 wickets and Lillee 25.
What made them formidable was their different approach to the same job. Lillee’s run to the crease was long and dramatic.
In the delivery stride the left arm was cocked, the head still and aimed down the wicket with the left shoulder as the sight.
Thomson by comparison ambled to the crease but in the delivery stride the casual turned into the dramatic.
Lillee said that he worked on his fitness and technique.
Thomson, on the other hand, was a freak of nature.
Asked about the secret of bowling fast he said: ‘‘Aw, I just trot in and let it go.’’
They first came across each other in a state game in Queensland. When Lillee came in to bat Thomson bounced him and hit him painfully on the hand.
Lillee came down the wicket. ‘‘I hope you can look after yourself when it‘s your turn to bat,’’ is a loose translation of what he said.
Thomson told him to mind his own business ( another rough translation).
Lillee knew he had found a soul-mate.
‘‘ I used to love standing close in when Thommo was bowling. You could see the fear in their eyes,’’ Lillee said.
‘‘The psychology of fear is an important ingredient in fast bowling.’’
Though different in style, both Lillee and Thomson shared the same hero, Yorkshireman Fred Trueman.
Thommo said: ‘‘I loved the way he got up the batsman’s nose. He was a ratbag.’’
Lillee admired him for his thrilling approach to the wicket, his classic style in delivery stride and, more than anything, the way he was able to swing and seam the ball.
Lillee and Thomson also shared a ripe sense of humour. Thomson greeted David Steele on his England debut with the words: ‘‘Cripes, they’ve picked bloody Groucho Marx.’’ Lillee had a Sussex batsman plumb lbw with a ripe apple and gave Dickie Bird a sweater concealing a rubber snake.
Bird was over the fence and on his way to the gate when he was finally caught and persuaded back to the middle.