“I liked loud music, I smoked, drank and bowled a bit of leg-spin. That’s me.”
Shane Warne described himself rather simplistically in the documentary Shane that released recently. It defined him well as a person—flamboyant, larger-than-life, fun-loving—and briefly as a sportsperson whose impact on cricket was much bigger than bowling a bit of leg-spin.
“Standing on top of my mark with the ball in my hand and I am looking down the pitch, it was my domain, my spot. I owned it,” he said.
Warne, who died on Friday of a suspected heart attack at age 52, had the kind of effect on a cricketing field that’s not been seen since. With the ball in his hand, he would trot off for what looked like a gentle stroll in the park. A few quick steps near the crease camouflaged what was about to follow—a delivery that ripped off his wrists with devastating results that include 708 Test match wickets. He was particularly effective against Australia’s traditional rivals England, taking 195 wickets in 36 matches. It included what is commonly known as the “ball of the century” that got Mike Gatting out in 1993, announcing Warne’s arrival on the international stage. It’s the delivery that would always be associated with Warne’s memory, a bit like Diego Maradona’s “hand of god” without the negative connotations.
“There was never a dull moment with you around, on or off the field… You always had a special place for India & Indians had a special place for you,” Tweeted rival and friend Sachin Tendulkar.
Shocked, stunned & miserable…Related stories
Will miss you Warnie. There was never a dull moment with you around, on or off the field. Will always treasure our on field duels & off field banter. You always had a special place for India & Indians had a special place for you.
Gone too young! pic.twitter.com/219zIomwjB
— Sachin Tendulkar (@sachin_rt) March 4, 2022
But set aside the statistics, Warne’s appeal—and popularity—lay in the drama that surrounded him. Part of an all-conquering Australian team of the 1990s, there would be an inevitable hush of expectation the moment the ball was tossed to him. He played to the gallery in part, talking down batsmen, moving the field around, bustling with unhurried aggression and confidence, all of which added to the allure. There was always anticipation, fans expected something to happen, something magical which would astound them then and intrigue them later.
“Everything was theatre,” said England batsman Andrew Strauss in Shane.
Warne initially wanted to be a football player with the Australian Football League but an accident left his leg in plaster, which is when he used his hands and that played a big part in strengthening his wrists. His cricketing skills were refined by the late Australian leg-spinner Terry Jenner, who became a “Mr Miyagi” (from the 1984 film The Karate Kid) to Warne. Football’s loss was cricket’s triumph.
“The highlight of my cricketing career was to keep wicket to Warnie,” wrote former teammate Adam Gilchrist. “Best seat in the house to watch the maestro at work. Have often felt a tad selfish, that Heals (predecessor Ian Healy) and I pretty much exclusively are the only ones who had that thrill and pleasure at Test level.”
Warne’s skills brought back attention to the sport at a time when the exciting West Indies and their battery of fearsome fast bowlers were on the decline. Test cricket would have stuttered, suffered, had it not been for the Australian who revived the difficult, elusive art of leg-spin, proving that the ball didn’t need to be hurled at 90 miles an hour to make batsmen sweat. He bowled with the enthusiasm of a kid, with the ability of a wizard, mischief and skill in one package.
Nilesh Kulkarni, who played against Warne for Mumbai in a warm-up game and in the Chennai Test of 2001, remembers the leg-spinner as someone who was always in for a win. “It was something different. Everything about his bowling, the planning and strategy, the variation, subtle angles that he would explore, using the crease, in hand delivery, he would think of all of it.”
“What was phenomenal about that character was he fought so hard on the field and was so different off it. He would go all out to win a match and then would discuss that valuable piece of information, the reasons and thought behind the implementation. As a sportsperson, he believed in sharing knowledge,” said Kulkarni over the phone.
Warne was a constant headline grabber, particularly in Australia and England, with his blonde hair, a series of indiscretions, love for partying, getting banned for taking a diuretic and forging deals with bookmakers. He dated actress Elizabeth Hurley, sexted women, played poker and also became a television commentator. “Warnie was larger than life,” wrote Glenn McGrath, who took a cumulative 1011 wickets from 104 Tests with Warne, on a social media platform. “I thought nothing could ever happen to him. He lived more in his life than most people would live in 20.”
He attracted attention with everything he did, for losing weight, for his ever-changing hair styles, for his face and skin that at times looked like it had used medical intervention. He could be a smart and witty commentator, a person who knew what he was talking about and could say it without filters.
Warne retired from international cricket in 2007, but came back to play in the inaugural season of the Indian Premier League in 2008, captaining Rajasthan Royals, a team with no major stars, to their only title win in the league. It validated a long-held notion that Warne was one of the best captains Australia could have ever had but never did. Because spin bowling is not just about the skill, but about cricketing intelligence.
“Everybody saw the maverick that he was and the energy he infused,” said Raghu Iyer, who was then the chief executive officer of Rajasthan Royals. “He ensured language was not a barrier because many Indians boys could not understand him. He communicated what he wanted to so brilliantly that the young players delivered five times of what was expected of them under him.
“He was ahead of the game. Before anyone could understand it, he had worked out the T20 format. We won, with newcomers, before others even caught on.”
“People hear about the late nights… But if there was an 8am shoot the next day, Shane would land up at 7:59,” said Iyer, who spoke recently with Warne about possible roles in the IPL.
Warne said in Shane that his Gatting dismissal was a fluke, because he never repeated that delivery. But the rest of his 1,000 international wickets, they came with attitude, the kind that cannot be replicated. With Shane Warne, a small part of spin bowling died on Friday.
Discover the latest Business News, Sensex, and Nifty updates. Obtain Personal Finance insights, tax queries, and expert opinions on Moneycontrol or download the Moneycontrol App to stay updated!
