Thursday 23 August 2012

  

Don Bradman and the International Cricket Hall of Fame.

By Owen Zupp.


Only a little more than an hour from Sydney lies the NSW Southern Highlands and the hamlet of Bowral. Set to a backdrop of green fields that would not be out of place in Britain, it was the boyhood home of Sir Donald Bradman, the famed cricketer. Today it is home to the International Cricket Hall of Fame http://www.internationalcrickethall.com/, which includes the Bradman Gallery.

As I wandered through the halls past intriguing artefacts and interactive displays, I couldn’t help but be impressed at this tribute to not just a man, but a wonderful game. And yet, something even more striking pervaded my thoughts; just as the game had changed, so had we. Time has seen an amateur game grow into a global business being instantaneously flashed across the globe via satellite. Families no longer huddle around the wireless to hear the broadcast from far flung fields, but check the latest scores on their iPhone Apps.

It’s almost a case of innocence-lost in an effort to keep pace with the ever-changing world and ever-increasing competition for market share. And yet in these halls, there are interviews continuously broadcast with elder statesmen using well chosen words in modest tones; there are no ‘high-fives’ here. One can only wonder at the sponsorship dollars ‘The Don’ would have accrued in the 21st Century.

And yet, just as the Hall of Fame takes the guest on a journey through the ages, I recognise that change is inevitable. I respect the professionalism and dedication displayed by our modern players in a game that now demands so much of their lives beyond the picket fence. But like life in general, we all have a secret longing for a ‘simpler’ time I suspect. Furthermore, all too often the good that stems from the sport can be overlooked. The Bradman Foundation is a charitable organisation with a specific charter. A number of players past and present have their own foundations; Glenn McGrath,  Steve Waugh and  Ricky Ponting just to name a few.

As we move forward at an ever-increasing pace and seemingly demand instantaneous gratification from everything, including our past-times, maybe we should stop and pause. Stop and pause to remember those who have founded our institutions, those who have excelled and those who have tirelessly kept the dream alive. Stop and pause to think about the simple pleasures and the sheer joy of youngsters playing the game for the game’s sake and little else. Stop and pause about where the future lies and making change for the right reasons.

Sport in itself is not life, but is rich in life’s lessons. From a young age, it teaches humility, disappointment, determination and joy. It teaches co-operation, patience and the fact that anything worthwhile takes time and effort. There are so many fledgling qualities that can be introduced through sport and carried through on the larger stage of life.

For my part, I will continue to wander these hallowed halls in Bowral and step lightly between yesteryear and today, trying to learn what I can from past and present. I will recognise that it’s ‘only a game’ but value the lessons and respect the traditions. Places like the International Cricket Hall of Fame are national treasures and not just for the sporting enthusiast, for they offer a glimpse into the past with one foot in the present. And as we know, there is much to be learned from those who have gone before.

Cheers.



Please support these very worthy foundations.

The Bradman Foundation. http://www.bradman.com.au/

The McGrath Foundation. http://www.mcgrathfoundation.com.au/

The Steve Waugh Foundation. http://www.stevewaughfoundation.com.au/

The Ponting Foundation. http://pontingfoundation.com.au/

Monday 20 August 2012

Howzat! Kerry Packer's War from a Kid's Perspective.



Howzat!

Kerry Packer's War from a Kid's Perspective.

by

Owen Zupp


There were a couple of advantages to being born in the mid-1960s. Firstly, you were able to get a handle on the Metric system before feet and inches had been firmly burnt into your brain and secondly, you were a young teenager when World Series Cricket exploded onto the scene.

When the news broke of the WSC signings, it was May of 1977 and the Australian cricket team were on tour in England. For me, that meant listening to the broadcast on my radio which was slipped beneath my pillow, willing Doug Walters to achieve that elusive first century on English soil. Doug played for our local club, Cumberland, when he wasn't on representative duties and I would ride my bike to catch a glimpse of the boy from Dungog. Now I listened intently with fingers crossed as the school day loomed only hours away.

When Doug returned to Australia, he had still yet to record a Test century in England, but that was a mere sub-paragraph compared to the real story of World Series Cricket. As WSC set about establishing its competition, the Australian Cricket Board busily began building an Australian Test team without the vast majority of its key players. As both camps bullied for position, they also pro-actively sought the support of the general public and specifically, the youth.

World Series Cricket led the way with a slick marketing campaign on the back of their theme song, "C'mon Aussie C'mon". There were caps and badges, autograph books and board games, free tickets and coaching clinics. Not to be outdone, the 'Establishment' ramped up their bid for an audience and followed suit with giveaways and personal appearances by the players.

In an era when the extent of sporting paraphernalia was 'Footy Cards' or the jersey of your favourite team, now entire shelves at supermarkets were crammed with offerings. Cans of fruit had labels to collect and every newspaper had a competition of some form. As a kid it was a wonderland and I personally attended coaching clinics from both sides of the cricketing divide.

I would watch Sheffield Shield matches and chat with the new generation of Test players like Peter Toohey, but similarly when WSC night cricket came to the SCG, I was there too; including that famous first night when there was standing room only. Those night games were particularly magical. At the end of a school day, I would jump on a train and then 'leg it' to the ground from Central Railway Station while the masses queued for buses. 

I can still recall sitting in the top deck of the Noble Stand when Tony Greig lofted an on-drive straight at my Adam's Apple. Fingers pointed up, I was certain that ball was mine until it faded and fell short. Or the night when Hookesy was cheered to the wicket by 50,000 voices, only to be dismissed cheaply and lamented all the way back to the pavilion by the same 50,000 voices in a lowered tone.

You were free to wander around the sacred Member's Stand and mingle with the players after the match. I spoke to Richie Benaud about the ground at North Parramatta that bears his name and Viv Richards about that 'S-S' bat. One evening, the usually 'forthright' Ian Chappell took some time out and let two of us walk into the front of the Member's and pointed out various aspects the Australian change room through glass. It was a fantastic public relations exercise one that is still with me thirty five years later.

For the game it was a time of upheaval, but as a kid it was a golden age. Now many of my mementoes of that time are dusted off and set to be displayed at the International Cricket Hall of Fame's upcoming WSC exhibition. Once commonplace, these pieces now speak of a time past when cricket fought its own revolution and the face of the game changed forever. However, undoubtedly it is the memories that remain with me the strongest and as I watch my own children grow, there are a whole new set of memories just waiting to be captured.


...and maybe that's another reason 'Why Cricket Matters'.



Sunday 19 August 2012

Michael Clarke's Cricket Academy



Michael Clarke's Cricket Academy.

by Owen Zupp
 

Hi All,

....and thanks for the great support of the 'Why Cricket Matters' blog so far!

Today the news has broken that the Australian cricket captain, Michael Clarke, is poised to establish a cricket academy in the Southern Highlands of New South Wales. A mere stone's throw from Sir Donald Bradman's hometown of Bowral. This is tremendous news on a number of grounds.

Firstly, there can never be enough facilities provided for the youth of any nation, be they sporting, for the arts or academic in nature. These young people represent a country's greatest natural resource, despite what mining advertisements may say.

Secondly, I strongly suspect that this is no whimsical fantasy. Michael Clarke's parents have an established track record managing sporting facilities and bring valuable experience and expertise into the equation. Combined with the very marketable brand that is 'Michael Clarke', any sporting entity with such pedigree has a very substantial base to build upon.

Thirdly, the heritage of cricket in the Southern Highlands is strong. Sir Donald Bradman moved here at two years of age and honed his skills on the ground that today bears his name. The same ground on whose boundary fence stands the wonderful "International Cricket Hall of Fame (ICHOF)" that features the Bradman Gallery Click Here to Visit the ICHOF. This fantastic facility will be the subject of its own blog in the very near future.

However, beyond the base facts of Michael Clarke's Cricket Academy venture lies a very important message; one of re-investing into the game of cricket. Now people will want to focus on the dollar value of the Berrima property and cynics will seek out some ulterior motive. The fact remains that Michael Clarke could have had a financial adviser direct the funds into a tax-efficient share portfolio; but he didn't! He re-invested into the game of cricket, so save the cynicism and give credit where credit is due.

To my best recollection, I first briefly met Michael Clarke when he made an appearance at a youth cricket coaching camp at which I was one of the coaches. He may have been in the NSW team at the time, but certainly not in the Australian national side. Even then he was giving up his time to speak to the next generation of cricketers and he connected with them effortlessly.

The next time I saw Michael Clarke was at the rear of the Sydney Cricket Ground Member's Stand during the Test Match versus India this year. It was the morning before he was to resume batting and was on the verge of a triple century. He looked very fit and very composed as he fielded a few questions from various folks before disappearing into the change-rooms and readying to create SCG history.

It was Jane McGrath Day at the Test Match and my wife and I took our seats amidst the sea of pink that has become synonymous with the celebration of Jane's amazing life. Out in the middle Clarke passed the triple century and stood on the verge of Sir Donald Bradman's mark, but declared the innings closed before he stepped through the doorway. Days later as I walked through the galleries of the International Cricket Hall of Fame, there was a pair of Michael Clarke's batting gloves from that record-breaking innings. They weren't up for auction, or stashed away to accrue in value, they were at the heart of Australian cricket's home and there for all to see.

There was no fanfare about Michael Clarke's contribution to the ICHOF's display, but it was yet another indication of the Australian Captain's respect for the game and its history, just as when he relinquished his helmet to don a Baggy Green cap the day he scored his maiden Test century. Now it's 'hats off' to Michael Clarke for proposing to establish a cricket academy for the next generation. Undoubtedly there is a lot of ground-work to be laid and details to be finalised, however, the intent should be applauded for what it is. A great of the modern game, preserving that game for those who will take his place.

Well done Michael.

Wednesday 15 August 2012




Why Cricket Matters.

A Cricket Blog
by
Owen Zupp


It's the middle of winter as I sit with my back to the fireplace at a local tavern while outside it is dark, cold and wet. All in all, the situation is about as far removed from the sunny surroundings of a cricket match as could ever be conjured. And yet, here at this moment as I sit caught between a shiver and an ale, cricket is central to my very being.

Across the table from me sits one of my best mates; Predds. We discuss everything from raising kids to learning to fly, making "billy carts" and jogging with strangers that possess an unscheduled urge to use the bathroom. It's a relaxed evening for two friends to catch up, chew life over and most importantly, share a laugh. And still cricket is as distant as the first days of summer, but a central theme.

You see, Predds and I met through the wonderful game of cricket some time late in the last century. His first memory of me is when I ungraciously tore a hamstring, while my first memory of him is the bloke who laughed so hard that I was sure that he was going to tear a hernia. A more amenable gentleman and doting father you could not hope to meet. Predds is also a very accomplished cricketer, playing first grade in Sydney while still a schoolboy and graduating to the NSW State "Colts" team. Today, he still possesses that air of natural sporting ease that we less-gifted folk envy. He is on first name terms with a number of cricketers who have worn the Baggy Green cap and there is little doubt that had he chosen that road, he would have had a fair shot at the title too. But another vocation called for Predds.

By comparison, I was an average schoolboy cricketer who clambered to captain my school's First XI and play a little grade cricket before my vocation took me down another road. I played against some of the greats when they were just lads and that only served to reinforce the difference in ability between those who can and those who REALLY CAN play the game. Even so, I maintained a passion for cricket and played here and there as the odd working hours of my career permitted.

Despite the significant gap in our cricketing pedigree, it was the game that led Predds and I to become friends; to share common interests away from the game, to interact socially and compare photos of our children. Furthermore, our perspective on life has been shaped in many ways by the virtues of cricket as lessons in disappointment, pressure, humility, perseverance and satisfaction are all wonderfully imparted in those hours 'in the middle'.

Like a chess match where humans are the pieces, cricket calls for both the ability to respond in the instant and yet contemplate the future with measured patience. It exposes our shortcomings for all to see but the simple satisfaction of that one shot that cannons off the bat is an instant that can cross the decades. Sportsmanship and the value of teamwork are key to success and essential in an honourable defeat. And once the sun has set, the covers are on the pitch and the game has concluded, the friendships continue to grow.

So here Predds and I sit, two beers and a few hours down the track. The conversation has touched on cricket, but more on those folks we have come to know through the great game and the wonderful settings that have provided a spectacular backdrop to even the most mediocre performances on the pitch. At its deepest core, cricket is about the flesh and blood, the grass and skies, and less about the willow and the leather.

Perhaps that ís why cricket matters............


Hi All,

Welcome to my new blog, "Why Cricket Matters" where we'll look at life, the universe and the odd picket fence. If you've played the game, watched the game, or had cause to drive within a few blocks of the game, there'll be something here for you.

The door is open and the kettle is on, so join me for a chat about this great game and where it fits into the big picture. For as anyone who has played cricket will tell you, it is the experiences gained and lessons learned that are of the truest value. The intensity of the pitched battle is a blink while the memory of the same lingers somewhat longer. However, it is the people, places and friendships that last well beyond the time when stumps are drawn. Perhaps that's why cricket matters?

Let's find out......