Glenn McGrath Line and Strength Read online

  As one of the selectors who’d picked McGrath for the Dubbo XI, Brian Gainsford was ecstatic at the way the boy who had started out at the Backwater club handled the step up in class.

  ‘Glenn had played some representative matches and I thought it was time to throw him in headfirst, to see if he would sink or swim,’ says Gainsford. ‘It was an exhibition match – and he’d shown enough that year to justify selection and he made the most of his opportunity. We all knew he would.’

  McGrath’s effort was no mean feat – he was bowling on a pitch that could be described as, at best, a cur of a thing.

  ‘The pitches we played the Toohey’s Cup matches on had an aluminium base with a strip of synthetic stretched over it,’ Walters says. ‘We’d put them down in places that didn’t have a turf wicket, like Pioneer Oval at Parkes. The way they played depended really on how they were put down: if it was done properly the pitch would be okay, but because most grounds have little ridges on them it was sometimes impossible to lay them dead flat. A consequence of that was we had little ripples up and down the pitch, so if the ball hit the down slope it didn’t bounce. However, if it hit the up zone it took off – and if I remember correctly, Glenn was hitting that up zone quite regularly when Parkes played Dubbo! But what I most vividly recall thinking to myself was that if this bloke could bowl so well on an aluminium wicket, imagine what he could do on a good pitch.’

  McGrath’s main memory of the aluminium pitch is that he couldn’t wear spikes. He was also denied a hat-trick through sloppy fielding, and it surprises him to think that Mark Taylor, who is remembered as one of Australia’s great slips fieldsmen, dropped a sitter.

  ‘It went straight to him, too,’ rues McGrath. ‘I had four dropped that night.’

  While Taylor remembers spilling the chance, he says McGrath has forgotten the Pioneer Oval lights – they were so dodgy the fieldsmen should have had coalminers’ helmets with lamps so they could see.

  Beverley McGrath felt great pride and emotion as she and Donna sat in the grandstand and watched Glenn play in a game involving such big names. Watching Walters in action made Bev think of her cricket-loving father, who’d often told her how he’d played cricket against Walters’ dad and uncles before World War Two. In 1965 she’d sat beside him and watched the family’s black-and-white television as Walters, then a fresh-faced kid of 19, nailed a Test century on debut against England.

  ‘As I watched Glenn bowl at Doug, it struck me as being special that my dad knew his people,’ Bev says. ‘It was a great experience, because apart from being happy that Glenn was playing, having Doug Walters out on the field gave me a connection to Dad as well. Donna and I had a great night, and we were so proud of Glenn.’

  Walters was eventually dismissed for a scratchy 20, though he fared a little better than Parkes’ other guest stars. Mark Waugh was dismissed for 8 and Graham Smith was sent packing for a duck. The Parkes Champion Post was disappointed to report that after falling 40 runs short, their team had lost the grudge match to Dubbo for the second consecutive summer. ‘Parkes were never in the hunt,’ was the Post’s unnamed correspondent’s matter-of-fact view.

  After the game Walters peppered the Far West officials with questions about McGrath. He also requested a contact number because he knew his old team-mate Steve ‘Stumper’ Rixon, then the NSW coach, would want to make a call to Narromine after they’d spoken. Rixon, a former Test player, was always on the lookout for fast bowlers. He had maintained strong ties to Sutherland, his old club, and had a good reputation for knowing how to foster talent.

  Many years later, when McGrath retired with the mantle of Test cricket’s most successful fast bowler, it was suggested to Doug Walters that he take a bow for unearthing this gem. While most people would be keen to wear such praise as a badge of honour, Walters shook his head slowly and deliberately as he recalled that line and length which had almost driven him to despair two decades earlier.

  ‘Make no mistake about it, Glenn McGrath would have been discovered,’ he insisted. ‘I take no credit for discovering him because he had more talent than the average guy. If anything, I may have helped him get to where he was headed that little bit quicker, but make no bones about it, he was definitely headed there.’

  Toohey’s Country Cup Challenge

  Dubbo vs Parkes

  Pioneer Oval, Parkes

  3 October 1988

  Dubbo: Mark Taylor*, Steve Smith*, Greg Matthews (captain)*, Steve Wheeler, Luke Morrish, Cameron Humphries, Tony Campbell, Andrew Grant [all from Dubbo], Mark Pope [Wellington], Stuart Border [Gilgandra], Glenn McGrath [Narromine], Mark Heffion (12th man) [Dubbo]

  [* Denotes guest player]

  Parkes: Doug Walters (captain)*, Graham Smith*, Mark Waugh*, Alan Day, Graeme Tanswell, Ken Keith [all from Parkes], Tony Beasley [Grenfell], Graeme Newcombe, Scott Gilmour [both from Cowra], James Dargan [Condobolin], Andrew Chapman [Forbes]

  [* Denotes guest player]

  Umpires: Kevin Pye and David Davis

  Dubbo 218 (Smith 85, Pope 50, Taylor 20. Day 2 for 41, Tanswell 1 for 12) defeated Parkes 178 (Beasley 40, Walters 20, Dargan 20. Grant 4 for 48, McGrath 3 for 44)

  8

  The Narromine Express

  In all honesty, Glenn didn’t really stand out.

  Sutherland’s chairman of selectors,

  Tom Iceton, after Glenn McGrath’s

  first net session

  In southern Sydney, the Sutherland Cricket Club’s selection committee stood in a small group near the Caringbah Oval practice nets to cast a critical eye over their latest recruit, who’d been signed – sight unseen – for the 1989/90 Sydney grade season on the recommendation of Doug Walters and at the invitation of Steve Rixon. Perhaps they’d expected too much because he’d been anointed by Walters as ‘something special’. However, after watching Glenn McGrath bang down a number of deliveries to the likes of John Dyson – the first-grade captain and former Test opener – the committee wasn’t overly impressed. No-one was prepared to describe McGrath as anything more than just another fast bowler.

  Twenty years later, Tom Iceton, who’d been chairman of selectors at the time, maintains there was nothing to indicate that he and his peers had witnessed the unveiling of a future champion who’d rewrite the game’s record books and set standards very few could ever hope to attain.

  ‘But you have to realise Glenn came to Sutherland with quite a raw style – it was nowhere near as refined as the one people saw when he played for Australia,’ Iceton insists. ‘I thought he was all right ... but in all honesty, Glenn didn’t really stand out.’

  At the end of the session McGrath was told he’d start his grade career in Sutherland’s third XI. ‘I never thought I was much of a net bowler, so I had no idea of what the selection committee thought about me when I bowled in front of them that first time,’ he says. ‘They picked me in the thirds, and that was fine by me because I just wanted to play. Though, after our preseason trip to Nowra I was promoted to seconds because I took 3 for 1. I was young and impressionable, and while I listened and learned at the net sessions, I was happiest when I was out on the field and playing.’

  The fact that Iceton and the boys didn’t roll out the red carpet for their new player didn’t faze Rixon, but he insisted McGrath be given a fair go. Rixon believes that a player with skill can be nurtured. For instance, it matters not to Rixon if a young spin bowler struggles to get the ball on the pitch, because if the kid can really spin it, he has a foundation to build on. It was the same with McGrath. Rixon knew the so-called ‘Narromine Express’ would be raw, because after fielding the tip from Walters to take a look at this bush player who bowled a rare line and length, Rixon had done his research. He’d phoned former first-class player Stuart ‘Webby’ Webster for his local knowledge. Webby played for NSW in the mid-1970s and lived in Dubbo.

  ‘I called Stuart to ask for his thoughts on McGrath,’ says Rixon. ‘Stuart was honest, saying all he knew about Glenn was he came from Narromine,
he played basketball and he was relatively new to cricket. It wasn’t enough information, so I pressed him and asked what he actually saw in McGrath as a bowler. It turned out Webby liked the look of Glenn because he was tall and skinny, but he added that he’d need plenty of work if he was to develop.’

  After watching McGrath bowl, Rixon listed the advantages he thought the 19-year-old possessed. First, he was 1.95 metres tall (six foot five), which to Rixon meant that when McGrath delivered the ball it would rain down at the batsman from close to eight feet.

  Another positive was McGrath’s simple action: ‘When you look at some fast bowlers you think to yourself, yeah, he can bowl. But you can also see he is going to have some problems down the track. That was never the case with Glenn.’ Rixon could see that McGrath released the ball well and had a natural ease in his approach to the crease.

  ‘I needed Glenn to understand early on that, over and above everything else, his simplicity was his strength. I found that the more we talked about that, the more he started to believe it. Glenn had a nice open mind when it came to his bowling, but he also knew when to say, “Thanks very much but I don’t need that.” ’

  When Rixon invited Glenn to try his luck with Sutherland in 1989/90, it generated what Bev admits was some much-needed cheer in the McGrath household after her marriage to Kevin had ended in divorce and Lagoona had been sold. Apart from providing Glenn with the opportunity to play a much higher standard of cricket, Bev believed Rixon’s offer would also expose her eldest child to greater opportunities than those available in the far west. There was nothing wrong with life in the country, but her mother’s intuition suggested Glenn wanted more. Playing for Sutherland would provide him with some direction.

  But his move to Sydney also added to the family’s financial burden, made heavier by the divorce.

  ‘When Glenn joined Sutherland we had to buy his cricket gear – there was no sponsor – and to get the boots and the whites and the bat and pads was expensive. We paid for it all on a credit card,’ Bev recalls. ‘Glenn was working but he wasn’t making much as a bank teller. But we always managed to get by somehow, though it was a real struggle.’

  Bev helped to prepare Glenn for the next step in his development as a cricketer – and as an adult. McGrath bought a caravan to live in because it would be much cheaper than renting an apartment, and Bev hit the telephone to find the most affordable caravan park near Caringbah Oval. They eventually chose the Grand Pines Tourist Park at Ramsgate, a 15-minute drive over the Captain Cook Bridge from Sutherland’s home ground and about the same distance from the Hurstville branch of the State Bank, where McGrath would be working. The plot cost $18 a night, cheap by Sydney standards, but it stretched McGrath’s meagre budget. Caroline Weir, who’d taken Bev’s call, sealed the deal when she assured Bev that the caravan park’s ablution block was always kept in immaculate order.

  ‘We also did some training before he left home,’ says Bev. ‘He’d never really done any fitness training before, so we’d get on our pushbikes and ride for miles around town. Glenn would push on after I’d stop. He’d ride along the highway because he wanted to go to Sydney fitter and stronger.’

  McGrath felt very little nostalgia about leaving his home town. He welcomed the opportunity for a different life and new challenge.

  ‘I think I was ready for a change,’ he says. ‘I was working in the bank and playing sport of a weekend – there was no real big picture of where I wanted to go, I was drifting along a bit. So when the cricket took off it gave me something. Thinking back on it now, part of me always thought I would play for Australia – but it is easy to say that now – but I’d experienced what playing representative sport was about and I loved it.’

  McGrath spent his last week at the Narromine branch of the State Bank quietly telling the customers he was headed for Sydney, where he’d give cricket ‘a real go’. The overwhelming mood among the locals was extremely supportive and positive. The few prophets of doom who suggested he was setting himself up only to be knocked down did nothing to dampen his enthusiasm or quest for adventure.

  ‘I never even thought about failing,’ he says. ‘But I didn’t think about succeeding either. All I wanted to do was have a go and to see what could happen. I was off.’

  Donna remembers little of her elder brother’s departure for his new adventure, but she does remember his determination to make it.

  Bev volunteered to tow Glenn’s Millard caravan (after which he would be given the nickname ‘Millard’) to Sydney, while he followed in his prized Commodore, a car he bought after saving his money from labouring in the cotton fields and working on properties in the district. It rained almost every kilometre of the journey and the dangerous conditions caused the trip to drag out for seven long hours.

  ‘I got lost when we reached Hurstville,’ McGrath recalls with a laugh. ‘I arrived at the caravan park about half an hour after Mum and she pretty much had everything set up, so it was good timing! I remember we were both so tired after the drive, it didn’t take too long to fall asleep.’

  Bev realised a world of opportunity – and adventure – was opening for her son, but saying goodbye to him the following morning was one of the toughest things she’d ever done. She and Glenn shared a strong bond and the sight of him standing alone on the quiet side road and waving farewell brought tears to her eyes. All she could do was to trust everything would work out, hope he’d be safe and believe he would be happy. However, long after she’d crossed the sandstone curtain – the Blue Mountains – that divides Sydney from the western plains, Bev found herself fighting the urge to turn back and make sure her son was okay.

  The realisation he was all alone hit McGrath soon after his mum left. He was standing on the outskirts of a city where he knew nobody. McGrath returned to his caravan and, as he surveyed what was to be his home for the next 13 months while he established himself with the Sutherland Sharks, a few home truths hit him. He’d now have to cook for himself, wash and iron his clothes, and keep the caravan clean.

  Lying down on one of the two single beds, he imagined he must have looked like a comedy skit character because his long legs dangled hopelessly over the edge of the bed. In a few days’ time he’d rectify that by extending the base with a large piece of masonite and adding a chunk of thick foam as a mattress. And only when he stood up did he realise how low the caravan’s ceiling was – he was forced to hunch over so as not to bang his head. Indeed, the only way he could stand square-shouldered and at his full height was to put his head through the vent in the ceiling.

  The clock revealed his mum had been gone for eight whole minutes. He didn’t feel like watching the small television set perched on the counter that doubled as his dining table. Ever the practical son of the bush, McGrath told himself he was in Sydney to fulfil his dream to play cricket for Australia, so he decided then was as good a time as any to start. McGrath took a single stump and a cricket ball from his kit, and made his way to the nets he’d noticed in the park across the road. He measured his run-up and was soon in full stride.

  ‘I don’t mind admitting that the 13 months I spent in that caravan was a pretty lonely existence, but I never minded my own company,’ he says. ‘The isolation was probably good, in the sense it made me think a lot about why I was in Sydney. I wasn’t there to party or to attend social events, or even climb my way up the bank’s management chain. I was there to play cricket, to make the Australian team, though even at that stage I still hadn’t told anyone that. I made some good mates through Sutherland, but I was a loner. The funny thing is I never felt homesick for Narromine in that first year, though I missed my family terribly – Mum especially.’

  Rixon knew only too well the problems McGrath faced. He had also moved to Sydney from the country to play grade cricket as a teenager. Although he had an aunt in the Harbour City, he remembers his first 12 months as the hardest year of his life.

  ‘I hated it,’ he says emphatically. ‘There were a number of times when I cou
ld quite easily have jumped on a train and returned to Albury. However, the reality was that, like Glenn, I was in Sydney for a reason. He had a dream and his desire to achieve it was strong enough to overcome a lot of issues that would certainly have challenged him.’

  A few weeks after moving into the caravan, McGrath woke up one Sunday and realised he had absolutely nothing to do, so he went for a long walk, just as he sometimes did at Lagoona. He began to walk the 15 kilometres to the city, following the Princes Highway, passing through suburbs overcrowded with shoeboxes that passed as units and apartments. He stopped only to drink water from taps in reserves. There was no point to his walk except to escape the regimented lifestyle that had become like a form of solitary confinement.

  ‘I didn’t need to keep a diary when I settled in Sydney because I had my daily routine down to a tee: I’d wake up; shower; eat breakfast; brush my teeth; make my lunch; go to work at the bank; have lunch; either train with the Sutherland boys or practise alone at the local nets; go for a walk along Ramsgate Beach; eat dinner; iron my work clothes for the next day; brush my teeth and hit the sack. Day in, day out, that was it! So on this day I went for a walk, a long walk, and what struck me when I walked around the city was that even though there were a lot of people there, it was still a lonely place – at first. I walked back because I didn’t know how the train system worked but I caught a cab from the airport because I was too tired.

  After 13 months, McGrath left the caravan to move into a two-bedroom flat in Cronulla with his Sutherland team-mate Tony Clark. ‘A terrific bloke,’ says McGrath of Clark. ‘We hung around with a few of the other Sutho boys – Evan Atkins, Justin Kenny, Phil Wetherall and Mark Chapman – and while I was a bit younger than them, they helped open a new world to me. It was one of having fun in between the hard work. It was so different to the lonely life of the caravan.’