The
rich legend - BENAUD
The morning after his return from playing for Australia in India,
Richie Benaud presented himself to the night news editor of the
Sun newspaper in Sydney and asked for a job. The day's paper carried
news of Benaud's 11 wickets in the third Test in Calcutta, won by
Australia, but four years into a long and distinguished Test career,
Benaud was thinking of the future. He wanted to be a journalist,
a proper journalist, not just another former player putting his
name to a ghosted column.
"Everyone
wants to be a journalist" was the terse response of Lindsay
Clinch,the editor. Benaud, though, was not to be deflected, so two
days after leaving the field at Eden Gardens he was doing the police
rounds as a night news reporter, learning part of the trade that
has provided his livelihood for so long.
What
marks out Benaud's commentary is not just his absolute economy of
words, but his unerring eye for a story. He was thinking like a
journalist when he became the first Australian Captain to allow
pressmen into the dressing room at the end of a match. The invitation
had one condition: no conversation within the sanctum was to be
directly reported. The Australian Board were horrified and told
their Captain so.
The
tale tells much about Benaud's ambition and his tenacity, even more
about his desire to do things properly. He wanted to be accepted
as a journalist, so he needed to do the training. It was the same
with television. At the end of the 1956 Ashes tour, he enrolled
in a three-week television course run by the BBC. He was sent to
shadow Peter O' Sullevan at Newbury's autumn meeting. "Follow
me and don't say a word," O'Sullevan said, "and then we'll
have a beer later and talk about it."
In
time, Benaud's much mimicked accent became as much a part of a cricketing
summer as O'Sullevan's mellow commentary on a Saturday afternoon.
The importance of organization and preparation, Benaud reflects,
were the skills he learnt those two days, as well as a love of the
horses. A summer spent listening to the gentle rumbles of Henry
Longhurst at The Open and Dan Maskell at Wimbledon furthered his
education. Longhurst's a simple mantra - "don't speak unless
you can add to the picture" - has never been more tested than
during the past month of an Ashes Series Benaud regards as the best
he has seen.
Take
the final overs of the fourth Test at Trent Bridge and the growing
possibility of an Australian victory. The audience of more than
eight million could not have been in safer hands. There was no need
for embellishment or flourish, as Benaud well knew. "All I
had to say was the number of runs to win, that Australia had three
wickets to take and that if England did win, Australia would have
to win at The Oval to retain the Ashes," he says. I just kept
reminding people of those facts because they were coming in second
by second wanting to know what the situation was. The whole thing
revolved around not saying anything, which suits me anyway.'
When
Ashley Giles duly turned Shane Warne away for the winning runs,
Benaud said: "Australia have turned in a fabulous performance,
Warne and Lee have been simply magnificent, but millions of spectators
here and all over the world have seen England go 2-1 up in the series."
Then the final masterstroke: "Giles finish not out seven, Hoggard
not out eight."
Do
you know which achievement Benaud holds dearest in a broadcasting
career that began at Old Trafford in 1963? "I taught myself
to say 'Australia' or 'the Australians' Not once in 42 years have
I used the word 'we'."
The
final day of the fifth Test will mark Benaud's farewell to commentary
in his second home, a matter of conscience as much as age, though
his 75th birthday is only a month away. Perfect timing was always
one of his gifts. He is, he says simply, a "free to air"
man and with the controversial transfer of Test coverage to Sky
next summer, Benaud has no terrestrial air time to fill. Test Match
Special would benefit from his gravitas, though you cannot see a
man as serious about his cricket. Waffling on about chocolate cakes
and red buses. It will be a surprise if Benaud, as he devoutly wishes,
sneaks off air without a fanfare. John Arlott was applauded all
the way up the steps for his final stint of commentary. Benaud would
love and hate such attention.
He would want the cricket to do the talking as it has so eloquently
through this summer.
"We
came up with a wooden cigarette box from the 1956 Pakistan tour
and a plate with the signatures of the Indian Cricket Board etched
into it," says. The caps and the blazers have gone. But the
proceeds help finance a new swimming pool at Jugiong. On the walls
of his house in Sydney, he has photographs of the 1961 Australia
side and the two horses he once owned with his wife, Daphne. Rebel
Thrust won twice at long odds long after the Benauds had given up
backing him and later became an international dressage horse; Enthuse
won six in a row at the country tracks in New South Wales.
These, you can be assured, were two of Benaud's less shrewd investments.
No more perfect finale could have been scripted with an Ashes series
of breathtaking brilliance hanging in the balance and the whole
nation poised to honour a new era of English cricket. "The
only series I've watched that comes close was in 1981, with Botham
being sacked as Captain, Mike Brearley coming back and the Old Trafford
Test," he says. "But the players on both sides are better
than in 1981".
Had
he been behind the microphone and not playing that day, you can
be sure Richie Benaud would have been the coolest man in the commentary
box. "Australia win a thrilling series 2-1, Mackay not out
3, Martin not out 1". And if England bring home the Ashes at
last, you can be guaranteed two things; first, that Benaud will
be at the heart of the action and, secondly, that not for one moment
will he miss a beat.
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