Keeping it simple, Benaud was game’s great salesman
“After you Ian,” were the first words spoken to me by Richie Benaud.
It was 1962 and South Australia had just enjoyed a rare victory over star-studded New South Wales. Benaud, as the not out batsman, magnanimously stood back to allow Les Favell’s team to walk off the Adelaide Oval first. I was on the field as 12th man and wasn’t about to leave ahead of the Australia captain and a man whose leadership style I’d admired from afar, but he insisted.
The story is indicative of Benaud. He was a thorough gentleman and meticulous in his preparation — I was staggered he knew my name.
He was also a generous man. Not long after the Adelaide Oval experience, a Gray Nicholls bat arrived in the post while I was playing in the Lancashire league. It was from Richie and so began a relationship that only ended after 52 rewarding years with his sad passing on Friday.
I say rewarding; that was from my perspective but I’m not sure what he received in return. Often when I spoke to him or called, he had a helpful suggestion, which emanated from a mind that was regularly in lateral thinking mode.
As a young man he advised me, “Ian, it’s (cricket) a simple game. The simpler you keep it the better off you’ll be.”
When I retired and turned my hand to writing and television, he organised for me to commentate on the BBC during the 1977 Ashes. He also suggested (Richie rarely advised), I become a member of the Australian Journalists Association so there would be no objection to me writing columns.
He did offer me advice once. It was the 1976-77 season and we were commentating on the 0-Ten network. Over a drink he told me, “Ian, there’s a better way.”
I was eagerly awaiting his thoughts on how I could improve my commentary, when he expanded, “You don’t have to tell every pest to piss off. There is a better way.”
He listed some options but I don’t think they registered, as I replied, “But sometimes I get a lot of satisfaction from telling someone to piss off, Benords.”
The very next day a strange thing happened. I accepted an invitation to lunch with the officials, where there was an even stranger occurrence. I told a former schoolmaster of mine who’d recently written me a scathing letter that I’d enjoyed reading his missive.
I walked away feeling buoyant and thinking, Benords is right; “There is a better way.”
He was the game’s great salesman but he could be hard-hitting when he felt the need. When Greg Chappell ordered brother Trevor to deliver the underarm against New Zealand he was quite critical of the move in his after-match summary.
Richie was always welcoming of new commentators but Mark Taylor was rather surprised to receive a note from him after one of his early stints. Taylor had just described the fall of a wicket as a tragedy and when he unfolded the note it simply said, “The sinking of the Titanic was a tragedy.” On his first meeting with Benaud