How David Warner made Australia smile again, with a little help from above
|
Version 0 of 1. Just before 11am in Adelaide on Tuesday, Varun Aaron, the Indian quick who put Stuart Broad in hospital four months ago, unleashed a bouncer that fizzed past a ducking, swaying David Warner. The crowd gasped, then cheered and applauded. It was the 19th ball of the Test match. One small step for a cricketer, one giant leap for cricket. About 15 minutes later, 800 or so miles east of Adelaide at the Sydney Cricket Ground, Sean Abbott, the young man whose bouncer felled Phillip Hughes a fortnight ago, bowled a short ball to Queensland’s Joe Burns in a Sheffield Shield match. “Yes, Abba!” came the cry from the New South Wales slip fielders. There were more bouncers from the Indians in Adelaide and each was cheered. This was what Ricky Ponting meant in his pre-match newspaper column about clearing the air and “announcing that the game was on”. The air, whether cleared or not, was hot and heavy. It was the warmest Adelaide day since the teams rolled into town last week. A good toss to win in normal circumstances. But these were not normal circumstances and who knew how batsmen might react to the emotional surge of the pre-match rituals. Michael Clarke decided to bat first anyway. Big cheers. Half an hour later the players from both sides emerged, wearing black armbands, and lined up behind their respective flags and a giant 408 painted on the outfield. Next to the players’ entrance to the field were placed all of the Australian players’ bats, with baggy green caps perched atop the handles. The unmistakable voice of Richie Benaud, the sound of Australian summer, filled the Adelaide Oval while footage of Hughes’s career appeared on the big screen. Just like his commentary, Benaud’s words were apposite and sparing. “RIP, son,” closed his recorded address, which led into 63 seconds of applause, followed swiftly by Advance Australia Fair. It was a moment. Warner raced out on to the pitch to a huge roar, his pigeon-toed partner Chris Rogers pacing solemnly in his wake, much as their opening stand turned out. Rogers scratched around for nine in 40 minutes while Warner smashed three fours off the second over of the innings and never looked back until he was caught on the deep midwicket boundary four hours later. This was the guy who had to withdraw from Australia’s first training session last Friday. The morning before the Test he walked laps of the Adelaide Oval with the team psychologist, Michael Lloyd. Warner, a close friend of Hughes, was the one who seemed to be struggling the most to ready himself for a return to action. If any Australian player was likely to be over-charged on this extraordinary occasion, it was surely Warner. “It was quite tough early on with the 63 seconds applause,” Warner admitted after making 145 off 163 balls, his fifth Test century of the year. Inevitably, he dedicated it to “my little mate” who he believed to be batting with him through his innings. “The national anthem set me off a little bit inside. Then coming out and playing the way I did there was a lot of adrenaline. I had to really bring it back after I got going.” And he did. He scored at a fierce pace, as he always does, but without undue risk until he was dismissed. “The demons got me out,” he said. Cricket is a numerologist’s fantasy at the best of times but this day’s play took the game into new territory. Michael Clarke raised his bat when he had 37 (the number of runs Hughes was short of a century when he went down) and when Warner reached 63 the crowd rose while the batsman punched the blade of his bat towards the sky. Warner said he was not sure whether to celebrate the moment but felt the presence of Hughes telling him to “keep jumping”. Later, as the day seemed to be petering out, captain-in-waiting Steve Smith reached 63 and it all started again. The “63 not out” posters given out by the local newspaper were held up and the applause rang out again round the 25,000 crowd. Is 63 the new 50? In Australia maybe it is. Some on Twitter are even referring to the score being a “Hughesy”. Warner had mixed feelings. “The hardest part of the day for me was when I was on 63,” he said. “It was such a horrific incident and such a rare incident that even though a spinner was bowling, when I was on that number I felt in the back of my mind that it wasn’t right. I just wanted to try and get past it.” He was on 98 when he pulled Aaron to deep midwicket for a single and breathed deeply at the non-striker’s end. Four balls later he eased Aaron into the off-side and completed his 100th run. He raised his arms, looked up, kissed the badge on his green helmet and leaped in the air. As he turned round, he was greeted mid-pitch by Clarke and he buried his head in the captain’s shoulder. “I did have a tear in my eye,” Warner said. “However long my career goes it’s going to be a special moment.” This was starting to feel like scripted drama. Short of a Clarke hundred, this brazen, brave, beautiful hundred from Warner was the ultimate crowd-pleasing resolution. There would be no Clarke hundred. Instead, there was more drama – and concern. He had 60 when his back twinged as he tried to play a pull shot. Three more runs maybe, just for yet another excruciatingly neat numeric detail? Not to be. Real life kicked in. Down on to his belly he went, trying to stretch out his endlessly troublesome back. He left the field, left the ground and was having pain-killing injections before the day was out. Clarke’s injury and three late wickets changed the complexion of what was a uniquely memorable day. India were still in it, having bowled and fielded wretchedly for much of the three sessions. Over on the hill, below the iconic scoreboard, a few beery punters urged a female television reporter in their midst to reveal herself. A more sober spectator turned to his mate and said wryly: “Nothin’ changes.” And in a sense he was right. If the past fortnight had never happened, this is the sort of day’s play we could have expected. India, appalling overseas, go through the motions and are put to the sword by David Warner and others. The sun beats down and the Aussies have racked up three hundred and plenty. Australian cricket was smiling again. |