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| ISBN-13: | 9781741762174 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Allen & Unwin Pty., Limited |
| Publication date: | 01/01/2007 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 308 |
| File size: | 775 KB |
About the Author
Read an Excerpt
Chappelli Speaks Out
By Ashley Mallett, Ian Chappell
Allen & Unwin
Copyright © 2005 Ashley MallettAll rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-74176-217-4
CHAPTER 1
A PIECE OF PAPER
At the time I wasn't too fussed about the idea, but a couple of days later I thought, 'Why not?' So I took a piece of paper and wrote, 'My ambition is to captain Australia'.
Ian Chappell, the man they call Chappelli, became the Australian Test cricket captain on Thursday, 4 February 1971. As was his habit at lunchtime, away from duties as a sales representative with WD & HO Wills, Ian had ducked into Adelaide's Overway Hotel for a schnitzel and beer when the barman called him to the phone.
'Congratulations Chappelli, well done,' The News reporter Allan Shiell called down the line. 'You are now the Australian Test captain.'
Ian reached for his wallet and took out a crumpled piece of paper. He looked at the words: 'My ambition is to captain Australia'.
It was in 1959 that Ian Chappell, aged 16, was picked to play in the South Australian State Schoolboys' Team of the Year after he showed good form in a match between metropolitan juniors and country schoolboys. The reward for his selection was two days' coaching at the Adelaide Oval from then state coach Geff Noblet. 'We had the coaching,' Chappell says, 'but I remember being very disappointed that we didn't get the chance to bat against some of the state squad bowlers. That would have given us all a good indication of how much we needed to improve, how much work we needed to do to get to district level.'
During a break in training, Noblet took all the boys out onto the main ground, Adelaide Number Two Ground, to have a look at the wicket. There he stood, with the others, on the lush green of magnificent Adelaide Oval within divine reach of St Peter's Cathedral, which stands majestically beyond the Moreton Bay fig trees to the north-east of the ground. This place was an inspiration, a young cricketer's dream.
Noblet then led us up the stairs to the inner sanctum of the South Australian dressing-room. We had another good look around, then he said, 'Now boys, as you are walking down these stairs, make a little mental note to yourself that you want to be back here walking out to play for South Australia one day.'
When we got to the bottom of the steps, he spoke again: 'In fact, the best thing for you all to do is to write down your cricket ambitions on a piece of paper, then stick the piece of paper in your wallet and carry it with you always as a constant reminder of what you wish to achieve in this game.'
At the time I wasn't too fussed about the idea, but a couple of days later, I thought, 'Why not?' So I took a piece of paper and wrote, 'My ambition is to captain Australia'.
Frankly, to this day I don't know why I wrote down those words, because I don't think I really had any great ambition to be captain of Australia. I think what happened was that I thought: 'What was the highest thing you could achieve in Australian cricket?' The answer was, logically, to captain Australia. So that's what I wrote on my piece of paper. I still had that little piece of paper in my wallet the very day I learnt that I was picked to be Test captain in 1971. It had done its job, so after some time I tossed it away.
Ian Chappell went on to play 75 Tests for Australia. He scored 5345 runs at an average of 42.42, with 14 centuries and 26 50s. He led Australia 30 times — winning 15, losing five and drawing ten — and is regarded alongside Mark Taylor and Richie Benaud as one of Australia's most outstanding captains. As a batsman, he hit out with belligerent joy, taking the attack to all opposition bowlers. And he hits out still, as a commentator on the game of cricket and, more recently, as a crusader for worthy causes such as heading the drive to have Cricket Australia officially recognise the Australian Aboriginal cricket team which toured England in 1868, and lobbying for fair treatment of asylum seekers. Ian Chappell is totally honest — in fact brutally so, for he doesn't hold back. Like his father, Martin Chappell, he pulls no punches and will not curry favour with anyone.
Chappell's mother, Jeanne, says, 'Mart would say absolutely what he was thinking and sometimes it was pretty rude. Sometimes people didn't take it the right way, which made it rather embarrassing. It wasn't my style. I wouldn't say things to hurt people, but he didn't care whether he did or he didn't.'
Ian Chappell is not an easy man to describe, for he is a lot of things to a lot of people. He could be rude when refusing to sign his autograph in a crowded bar, but as a batsman and a captain he was smart. He learnt from his mistakes and he had the knack of empowering his players. He never bawled anyone out on the field.
When relaxed Chappell is articulate, with interesting and provocative ideas about the game and the direction in which it is heading. Unlike many former cricketers, he doesn't think that all the players from his era were better than the players of today. He lauds the likes of oldies such as Garry Sobers, Keith Miller, Richie Benaud and Graeme Pollock, the spin of Indian maestro Erapally Prasanna and the pace of Dennis Lillee, Andy Roberts and John Snow, but equally he marvels at the skill of the moderns, among them Ricky Ponting, Adam Gilchrist, Shane Warne, Glenn McGrath, Sachin Tendulkar and Brian Lara. Alan Knott is his choice as the best wicket-keeper he has seen, just ahead of Rodney Marsh.
Loving nothing better than a debate on sport, Chappell is in his element with someone similarly passionate. But what Chappell calls a debate, others might call a heated argument; his discussions with Allan Border are legendary on the cricket circuit, invariably ending in a blazing row, yet there has never been any animosity between the pair. Whether playing cricket, tennis or backgammon, it is 'game on' with Ian Chappell. The fighting spirit fairly exudes from his being; a smack-in-the-face combativeness that can be compelling to watch, but intimidating to face.
He is perceived by many as being the tough, uncompromising cricketer who led the 'ugly Australians' in the 1970s and thumbed his nose at authority. In reality, Ian Chappell led a highly committed bunch of cricketers, possessing a collective desire to become the best cricket team in the world. His men were not 'ugly' in the sense that they verbally abused opponents on the field. The talk was mostly gamesmanship. It could be brutal, but it was usually clever and funny. In England in 1972, after repeatedly playing and missing, the captain of Combined Universities found he had a bootlace undone and gestured at Chappell with a request to tie it. The Australian captain's response was: 'You're not doing anything else out here pal; do it up yourself!'
In his book Innings of My Life, English cricket writer Jack Bannister wrote, 'If I wanted someone to bat for my life, it's Ian over Greg. Just. That is if I am convinced he thinks my life is worth saving'.
Former Test team-mate on the 1972 tour John Inverarity said:
Ian Chappell was the embodiment of the warrior. He is a man with a strong and compelling personality, a man who is drawn to contests — pitting his will, his physical prowess and his psychological assertiveness against opponents — like a moth to a flame. As a player and a captain he used his very considerable cricket skills and his team-mates to seek and engage in battle. He loved it all and inspired others to 'go there' with him. There are many reasonably good captains, and a very few outstanding ones. Ian Chappell was most certainly an outstanding captain.
Ian was always Ian: forthright, fearless and with no time for deference. It was a happy coincidence for Ian and for Australian cricket that he won the captaincy of South Australia and then Australia in 1970/71 at a time of significantly changing social attitudes; the 1960s and all that came with it. There was a harmony from which a powerful force arose. He was the central figure in the development of one of Australia's finest and most talented teams: the team of the 1970s.
Ian Chappell was destined for greatness in sport. Weaned on a potent mix of cricket and baseball, sport was in the blood.
The eldest of three boys born to Jeanne and Martin Chappell, Ian took his first stance in this world on 26 September 1943, 12 months to the day after his parents married. Throughout his childhood, Ian's father taught him lessons that would not only help him cope in sport, but in life generally. When Ian was about nine or ten he used to score for the Glenelg third-grade team. Martin was captain and young Ian was ever the optimist — not many scorers wear whites to matches, but Ian was hoping that he might get a game if someone failed to turn up. He was fitted out in his cricket gear, just in case.
Well, one day one of the players didn't turn up and I ended up getting a game to make up the numbers. I was in seventh heaven. I batted about number nine. The fast bowler for the other team was a fiery redhead called 'Blue' Ballantyne. When I was thirteen Blue seemed like an enormously big bloke and I thought he was frighteningly quick. However, I was able to stay in for about 45 minutes. I didn't make many runs, but I was delighted that I had been able to stay in so long.
In the car on the way home I kept expecting Dad to say something like, 'Well done,' or to give me a pat on the back. But there was nothing. We sat down to dinner later. Still no word from Dad. I was mulling this over when Dad finished his dinner, pushed his plate away and spoke for the first time. 'That's it son, you're not playing C grade any more.'
I was stunned and just managed to mutter, 'Why? I batted for 45 minutes and I reckon I did all right.'
He said, 'No, you are not playing because you are scared. Until you learn not to be scared you're not playing with the men any more.' I questioned him, asking what he meant about being 'scared'.
He replied sharply, 'Well, you backed away from one delivery from Blue Ballantyne and until you get behind everything you are not playing in C grade again.'
It would be a pretty fair guess that Ian Chappell never again backed away from any fast bowler in his whole career. To the contrary, he loved the thrill of the battle against the quick bowlers and he was always looking to cut or pull or hook the short stuff. The quicker the better, it seemed. His body language was ever an open invitation to any bowler: 'Bring it on, the faster the better.'
Martin came up with a novel way to help his sons catch a ball. Years later he explained: 'I worked out that if you stand in front of your son trying to get him to catch a ball his eyes follow yours and therefore he doesn't watch the ball at all. So I decided to experiment. First try worked. I showed Ian the ball, then tossed it gently underhand against a brick wall. Ian's eyes followed the ball and he easily caught it. I taught Greg the same way. Both of the boys could catch a cricket ball long before they had reached the age of three.'
Martin never used a soft ball. It was always the hard cricket ball, and Ian revelled in the play.
Cricket was in the blood. Jeanne was the daughter of Vic Richardson, a great all-round sportsman and captain of both the South Australian and Test cricket teams. Martin played district cricket as an opening batsman and off-spin bowler for some 22 years. He was in the South Australian state squad one season and had a reputation for being a tough character on the sports field. Martin represented South Australia as a baseball catcher as well. There was never a hint of having been pushed into cricket. I just loved it.
Martin sensed the need to have Ian coached, but he was wise enough to seek someone else to do the job. In Lynn Fuller, a former AIF player and a good country cricketer, he reckoned he found the perfect coach for his lad.
Lynn had a good reputation as a coach. He was a retired farmer and came to live in the city, and through his two sons he became involved with the Glenelg Cricket Club as curator and coach. It all started one day at Unley Oval when Dad and one of Lynn's sons were playing B grade for Glenelg. I was sitting in the stand with Mum and Dad, and Lynn was there too.
Dad introduced me to Lynn and said to him, 'I'd like to have Ian coached ... When do you think would be the right age for him to start?'
Lynn asked how old I was and Mum told him I was five. Lynn said, 'You might as well start him now.'
So every Sunday of every summer from the time I was five until I had reached the age of 17 I went around to his home for coaching.
Lynn Fuller worked hard with Ian on correct technique — elbow up, front and backward defence — but, whenever Martin was throwing a few balls to him in the backyard, Ian would play correctly for a while then lose patience and hit the ball over the fence.
Dad used to get annoyed with me when I whacked one over the fence and, after the blast from Dad, I'd play correctly for a while then I'd let fly again. Because Lynn told me not to hit the ball in the air, I never did while I was with him. If I did accidentally, he would say in his calm manner that it was the wrong way to go and eventually I just didn't want to hit the ball in the air when I was with Lynn at his coaching sessions. He was very patient with me and spent hours working on perfecting my forward and back defence. He would say, 'Son, you can't make runs sitting in the pavilion ... You've got to be able to keep the good ones out.' He also explained that if I could get the forward and back defence right, all the other strokes would develop from those two basic shots.
Lynn would bowl to me for long periods. Despite his age he was an accurate medium-pacer and would send them down to me for an hour or so, sometimes for even longer spells.
Ian's brothers Greg and Trevor were also coached by Lynn Fuller. Greg remembers Lynn as a real student of the game, particularly on batting technique: 'There we would be at Lynn's place with three or four other kids and Lynn would be working on our batting technique, especially in the area of defence. Afterwards Dad would throw the ball to us for half an hour or so to give us practice at hitting the bad ball.'
Martin's baseball years had given him a strong throwing arm — a necessity for all those hours chucking the ball at the boys in the backyard net. When the boys were still very young, around 1960, Greg reckoned it was time to upgrade the net. The worn patches in the lawn were covered with a bag of black soil the lads had secured from the club ground down the road. However, a few scattered bits of soil was hardly satisfactory for a decent net so, with help from Lynn Fuller, they brought in a few trailer loads of rich, black soil — enough to make a proper wicket about half the normal length and twice the normal width of a pitch. The extra width gave the boys lots of room in which to move the stumps, limiting the wear in one particular spot. The boys all chipped in and helped, taking turns to prepare the track with the aid of an old tennis court roller, also from Lynn Fuller.
Those backyard 'Tests' were fiercely competitive and, at times, tempers became frayed. Jeanne Chappell was forever coming out to intervene. According to Ian, 'Most of the time, it seemed to me, Mum would settle any argument in Greg's favour, probably because he was younger. She'd say, "Let him bat and get on with it ... and keep the noise down."' However, Greg reckons he invariably paid for his mother's intervention in his favour: 'We never used pads or gloves in those days and whenever Mum gave me the benefit of the doubt and I batted on, I'd pay with whacks to the legs and the hands. I remember that when the track got too slow we wet the wicket a bit to liven it up. One particular day Ian gave it a bit too much water and the ball leapt all over the place. Inevitably he hit me on the fingers and I went down in a heap. Ian stood over me: "Don't worry about the fingers, mate," he said. "Next time it'll be your head." '
By the time Trevor was old enough to face his brothers in the backyard he found the same competitive edge. Greg had learned the hard way playing against Ian, and he, in turn, gave Trevor the 'treatment'. Knocks to the fingers and too much water on a good length contributed to Trevor also developing a thick hide. There was a time when Trevor became so incensed with Greg's antics that he chased him around the backyard brandishing a tomahawk. Luckily for Greg, Trevor and Australian cricket, Greg proved too elusive to get the chop. Trevor says of his brothers Ian and Greg: 'Ian always stood up for me against Greg, or so Ian tells me anyway. Because of the nine-year age difference between Ian and I, we didn't battle each other directly that often in the backyard. I can remember facing some short-pitched bowling off the Leak Avenue ridge from Ian and losing a few fingernails in the process. I wasn't wearing any batting gloves and after the first whack I said to Ian that I wanted to put on some gloves. Ian said that wouldn't be necessary as it was an accident and that he wouldn't bowl short again. Stupidly, I believed him.'
The backyard net was used for most of the year — an estimated 300 days. When it rained and the wicket was too wet to bat on, the boys would get out the baseball gloves and have a throw. If it was too wet to venture outdoors Martin might take the opportunity to give the boys a blackboard lesson on rules and strategy, the importance of concentration, or tactics in batting, bowling and fielding.
Over the years the pitch at Lynn Fuller's place became a good deal higher than the surrounding grass, through constant top dressing.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Chappelli Speaks Out by Ashley Mallett, Ian Chappell. Copyright © 2005 Ashley Mallett. Excerpted by permission of Allen & Unwin.
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Table of Contents
Contents
Preface,1 A piece of paper,
2 Fearless at the wicket,
3 Born leader,
4 1972: The defining tour,
5 Ashes to Ashes,
6 A year to remember,
7 Duelling with Bradman and Botham,
8 World Series Cricket,
9 Caribbean crisis,
10 Last hurrah,
11 ITL[Tampa]ITL and the 1868 Australians,
12 Heroes have heroes too,
13 Steve Waugh,
14 The mellowing,
Bibliography,
Acknowledgements,