Mr Cricket

by Michael Hussey

  MOST FIRST-CLASS TRIPLE CENTURIES SCORED BY AN AUSTRALIAN

  DONALD BRADMAN

  452* NEW SOUTH WALES V QUENSLAND, SYDNEY 1929–30

  369 SOUTH AUSTRALIA V TASMANIA, ADELAIDE 1935–6

  357 SOUTH AUSTRALIA V VICTORIA, MELBOURNE 1935–6

  340* NEW SOUTH WALES V VICTORIA, SYDNEY 1928–9

  334 AUSTRALIA V ENGLAND, LEEDS 1930

  304 AUSTRALIA V ENGLAND, LEEDS 1934

  BILL PONSFORD

  437 VICTORIA V QUENSLAND, MELBOURNE 1927–8

  429 VICTORIA V TASMANIA, MELBOURNE 1922–3

  352 VICTORIA V NSW, MELBOURNE 1935–6

  336 VICTORIA V SOUTH AUSTRALIA, MELBOURNE 1927–8

  MICHAEL HUSSEY

  331* NORTHAMPTONSHIRE V SOMERSET, TAUNTON 2003

  329* NORTHAMPTONSHIRE V ESSEX, NORTHAMPTON 2001

  310* NORTHAMPTONSHIRE V GLOUCESTERSHIRE, BRISTOL 2002

  The final straw came during a one-day match on a freezing cold day at Gloucestershire. I was facing the Australian Ian Harvey, their overseas player, and went to flick one down the leg side. It hit the back side of my thigh pad, went back on a dodgy angle and bowled me. It was a very unlucky dismissal, but I was so upset with myself. I sat next to Bob afterwards and apologised. ‘You must think I’m the worst overseas player you’ve ever had,’ I said. But, far from getting angry or trying to rev me up, Bob just sat back and calmly said, ‘Not at all. We’ve got another game in a couple of days, against Warwickshire back at home. When you bat in that game I want you to go out there and throw caution to the wind. Go out there and have fun. You can’t go any worse, so you might as well just have a good time.’

  Luckily for me the pitch was beautiful for that next game and I got away to a decent start. I followed Bob’s advice and played with total freedom, as if without a care in the world. I scored 96 that day and straight away I felt my shoulders relax. At least now they could see that I could bat a bit. Using Bob’s advice became the launching pad for the rest of my season.

  Even though it was a while before I scored a century – more than two months – by season’s end I’d piled up 2055 county runs. If you get 1000 runs in a county season, you’ve done well. My goal was to get 1000. To score 2000 was huge. Among my knocks that season was my first triple century, 329 not out against Essex. I also scored plenty of one-day runs, which was a part of my game I desperately wanted to improve.

  But Bob wasn’t to last at the club. When our results started to taper off again the board decided he should be sacked. I was on the club’s cricket committee, which answered to the club’s top administrators, but I didn’t get a say in the decision. The board members called a meeting to discuss the coaching role and myself and another clubman, Duncan Wild – who they knew were huge supporters of Bob’s and would stick up for him through thick and thin – were not invited. Through a majority vote they sacked him without us knowing.

  MY FIRST TRIPLE CENTURY, 329 NOT OUT AGAINST ESSEX.

  Granted, we hadn’t been playing well but it wasn’t Bob’s fault. It couldn’t be easy coaching a team in which one player is romantically involved with another player’s partner, for instance. There were a lot of things going wrong and Bob should not have been held entirely responsible. I believe he was made the scapegoat and I was furious that I didn’t get the chance to defend him or at least discuss it with the board. The people who voted him out were not part of the playing group and they had little understanding of how the team operated.

  After Bob left, the club replaced him with the former South Africa and Australia international Kepler Wessels. Kepler was very much a disciplinarian, a bit of a dictator at times and we were all on edge around him. By now I was captain and, though I was disappointed Bob wasn’t there, there was a positive aspect to it because I felt that the players needed a kick along. They were pretty slack, they whinged a lot and wouldn’t do things properly. I knew it was part of my job as captain to instil a better attitude, but I didn’t know how to do that without losing the friendship of the players. Kepler quickly got them into line. He told them a few home truths straight away, knocked some heads around and, sure enough, we had an amazing season.

  Kepler had an aura about him and we’d heard the stories about how tough he could be. The first hint of what lay ahead came on his very first day at the club. One of our players, Graeme Swann – a fantastic cricketer who had an uncanny ability to impersonate people, whether it was imitating people’s batting styles, accents or mannerisms. Kepler came up to Swanny and said: ‘I heard you do impressions.’ Swanny replied: ‘Yeah, yeah! Do you want me to do one of you?’ To which Kepler said deadpan: ‘If you do one of me, I’ll belt the shit out of you.’ The boys had a bit of a laugh about it afterwards, but it was a very clear message that whenever Kepler was around, you had to shut up and not put a foot out of place.

  Dealing with Kepler behind closed doors was no easier, especially for me as captain. I was still lacking confidence and couldn’t work out how best to stand up to him without getting flustered or making him angry. Luckily our assistant coach, Nick Cook, helped me out a lot in that department. Nick, a left-arm orthodox spinner who had played for England, took a leading role in the running of the team. Kepler, Nick and I were the unofficial selection committee for the side, but discussing selections with Kepler was hardly straightforward. Kepler hated losing and, if a result went against us, he would go off on massive rants. It wasn’t unusual for him to declare: ‘Right! These eight players have to go!’ I wasn’t strong enough to pull him up and say, ‘Come on, mate. What are you talking about?’ But Nick didn’t hesitate. ‘That’s rubbish, Kepler!’ he’d say, without flinching. We’d end up having a much more rational conversation about it after that, perhaps make one or two changes, and work out the reasons why we’d lost. There was no need to panic and we had to get that through to the coach. I wasn’t sure I could do it, but Nick’s input ensured many more heads didn’t roll.

  We ended up being a good team. Kepler was the dictator and disciplinarian, Nick wasn’t afraid of putting him back in line if needed and I began to feel more comfortable tactically because I’d had a good season behind me and I knew the guys and we were starting to get a lot of things right. Consequently, after being bottom of the second division in both competitions, we got promoted to the first division of both.

  I learned a lot about cricket that season. But learning how to deal with Kepler proved just as valuable. One afternoon after we lost to Glamorgan he called me into his office. I hadn’t been batting well and the whole team was disappointed in our performance. He pulled me aside and said, ‘Huss, do you want to say something?’ I thought he was asking if I wanted to address the boys about the game we had just completed. So I suggested we should perhaps leave it for the day, train well and then think about the things we need to do better closer to the next game. He said, ‘No, no, no. We need to talk about your game.’ We went into Kepler’s office and, only as he can, he tore strips off me. ‘How do you think you can score runs when your stance is like this!?’ he yelled. ‘You’re leaning too far forward and that’s why you were dismissed last game!’ And, on it went.

  I was terrified. But having seen how Nick had stood up to Kepler, I decided to contain my fear and, instead of cower to him, I very quietly and rationally said, ‘Okay, Kepler, let’s work on that and see what we can do.’ I was open to suggestions because I wasn’t batting well and wanted to know what Kepler thought. I knew that yelling wouldn’t get through to me, so I asked him, ‘Do you think I just need to move my head this way?’ He lowered his voice and said, ‘Yeah.’ We started talking openly and respectfully about what I was doing wrong and, consequently, I worked very hard on those tips over the next week. In the next game I scored 280.

  For all his faults, Kepler was a good coach. He was very sound when it came to technical advice and was brilliant to talk to about the mental side of the game. But his headstrong nature proved challenging for me to contend with. He made certain everyone kn
ew he was the boss and we had to do things his way or else there would be punishment. That might have worked for some guys, but it wasn’t for me. I was always worried about what would happen if we lost three or four games in a row. Would I be sacked like Bob? Would he drop the whole team?

  NOTES ON CAPTAINCY (2002)

  • I am getting quite angry at a lot of the players at the moment. So far this season, I have been open to suggestions and responsive to player wants.

  • In hindsight, I wish I came in strong and then lightened off as the season progressed. Our players don’t work hard enough, in particular our bowlers, who are inexperienced and need a volume of work. Our batters are also not hitting enough balls.

  • The players also make a lot of excuses and never look at themselves.

  From now on:

  1. Train more, every session has fielding

  2. Stamp out whingeing

  3. Jump on players making excuses.

  Captaincy (18-5-02)

  • It is important to foster a family atmosphere where the team can speak openly and honestly. Players can’t be carrying issues/ baggage as it will affect their performance. Players need to have a clear mind to be able to play freely and to be able to express themselves and to enjoy their cricket.

  • As a player and a captain, it is important to impress on myself and my team to lose the ‘fear of failure’ factor. It only holds you back from playing freely and to express yourself. I must play with a clear mind, free of fear – play the next ball with a clear mind.

  • I feel it is important to have a group of lieutenants or senior players who have similar beliefs and team ethics so that they can influence younger players and help build a good culture that will continue for years to come. There is a need to sit down with them as a group and get all our ideals/beliefs/ ethics out in the open and then if someone in the team steps outside of these, then one of the senior players can pull them back into line. The question to ask is: ‘How do we want to play/train/be seen?’

  • It is very important to sign good players, but also good people – people who love the game of cricket and live for the game of cricket.

  • We need to challenge and pressure the guys at training to do the basics right, like balls in the right area, treating nets as a match. Competitions or games could be used, but invariably motivation must come from within. It comes back to the type of person again.

  • If I am captain of WA next season, there are a number of things I’d like to change:

  - the coach and captain must have more say in team selection

  - sit down with Mike Veletta and discuss our training; make it more specific and structured

  - have my senior players/coach group discuss how we want to shape the team, define our morals for all to stick to.

  Northants had a good season in 2003, but I didn’t play the next season and the club’s results were quite poor, which suggests to me the authoritarian style of coaching has a shelf life. It’s good for some time, but the coach’s aura – the fear factor, if you like – wears off. Kepler moved on pretty quickly. I had a turbulent time in his company but I was happy with the way I learned to interact with him. It showed me that I could deal with different personalities respectfully and be able to keep my pride at the same time.

  There have been times, however, when no matter what I’ve tried there was nothing I could do to rationalise a situation. One such instance occurred with Noddy Holder, a batting coach I enjoyed working with, but with whom I had a falling out over something that seemed to me nothing more than a miscommunication. It proved yet another great lesson in understanding myself and the people around me.

  Noddy and I worked together at a time when I was very keen to learn more and improve my batting. We first met when I was having a hit with Kade Harvey at Scarborough, where Noddy did a lot of his work. He offered me a batting tip that worked really well and I began having hits with him. I liked his philosophy on batting. He made me think about the game and I felt like I was really developing under his watch.

  Noddy’s approach was about power. He told me I could play every shot in the book and should turn myself into a more dominating batsman. He’d talk about putting pressure on the bowler. ‘You could hit nearly every ball for four,’ he’d say. These words rang true in my mind because it was about the time when Australian batsmen were doing just that on the world stage and I believed that was what I needed to do to catch the selectors’ attention.

  CHAT WITH NODDY/TOM

  Routines take you forward, habits hold you back

  My cue is: watch the ball, see the ball. But after two years of saying the same thing, it isn’t as meaningful. Try changing my cues for a while to make it meaningful. ‘See the seam.’

  Think about batting at the end of a kitchen table. Clear away all the plates, knives, forks, other distractions and just bat on a clean, shiny table.

  Top players have strike rates over 60. Mine is 38. Focus on the ball better. Look to score.

  The falling out occurred when I was playing in England. Paul Terry, the Hampshire coach, who is from Perth, had initiated a program to bring a handful of young English players to Perth and train them in the northern winter. He’d sort them out with a house and a car and train them at the club, using the facilities there and bringing in various resources, such as WA team psychologist Sandy Gordon. Paul was only bringing out four or five guys a year and Noddy believed, rightly, that there was scope for the program to be expanded. He wanted to – and did – start a similar program.

  So I was playing for Northants and Paul was coaching Hampshire. Unbeknown to me, Paul came to our club one day to meet with the chief executive and they organised for two young Northants players to come to Perth to train. The two players were very keen and were good people. I told them they’d love it in Perth, Paul was a terrific coach and they would gain a lot from the experience. I told them about Noddy and suggested that they come down to have a hit with him too.

  I got back to Australia and told Noddy that Paul had organised for two Northants players to come to Perth. I said to Noddy that I’d told the players about him and that they wanted to come and have a hit. Noddy walked away. I didn’t know what the problem was. I chased after him but he drove away. I still didn’t know what the problem was. I tried calling him but couldn’t reach him. Eventually I turned up at his house and knocked on the door. ‘What’s the matter?’ I asked. ‘Is everything alright?’ To which Noddy replied sternly: ‘You had a chance to endorse my program, get a few players to come out and work with me. You obviously don’t rate my coaching. You’re just using me.’ I told him that Paul had travelled to Northampton, met with the chief executive, I didn’t know anything about it and had nothing to do with it. But he wouldn’t accept my word. I sent Noddy a card, a book, I tried lots of things to try to repair the situation, but it was never resolved.

  In my heart I know I did nothing wrong. I rate Noddy very highly as a person and a coach and I’d never do anything against him. I’d suggested that these guys work with him, but Noddy didn’t see that part of it. It was a very difficult situation that got worse when I turned up at WA training soon afterwards. Some of the boys had a real go at me. I had players who had also worked with Noddy asking me why I had done the wrong thing by him and others who said simply that the problem had to be solved. What had started as a private misunderstanding had become a public spat.

  I don’t like conflict and there was definitely no need for conflict in this situation, but sometimes there will be misunderstandings that cannot be resolved and it is important to hold your ground if your conscience is clear. This was one of them. I still see Noddy around the place. I always say g’day but we never converse much beyond that.

  I’m enjoying working with Australia’s new coach, Tim Nielsen. I know Tim from his time as assistant to John. He is enthusiastic and prepared to roll up his sleeves and do the hard yards. But the truth is I’ve reached a point where, whoever the coach is – and whatever personalities
I have around me – I have a firm grasp on what works for me and I won’t let anything influence that. It’s been quite a procedure, but I’ve arrived at a point where I feel comfortable with my game and comfortable with who I am.

  CHAPTER 5

  MENTAL FATIGUE

  Put yourself in my shoes. All your life you have dreamed of playing for Australia. You have trained to the point of oblivion. You have learned from psychologists, doctors, coaches, current and former players. You have read books, done courses and been through the Australian Cricket Academy. Throughout long winters you stuck to your training regimen and, later, travelled overseas in the hope of improving further and making a life out of the sport you love. You have been through good times and bad, but made sure every box was ticked in order to achieve your goal. And, finally, you have made it: you are a member of the Australian Test and one-day cricket teams. Sounds pretty satisfying, doesn’t it? Just say, then, that you were in the team meeting, talking about tactics for your next game and the coach, captain or a selector looks your way and says: ‘Huss, you’ll be sitting out the next couple of matches.’ How would you feel?

  It has taken me so long and so much toil and dedication to get the chance to play for Australia. To have someone tell me that I have to sit out a game or two or three is very upsetting. I don’t want to start picking and choosing which games I have to miss and I certainly don’t want to give another player an opportunity to take my place, do well and possibly keep it! No thank you.