Mr Cricket

by Michael Hussey

  It started just after the World Cup in the West Indies. It had been an amazing few months and I could hardly have felt better about the way things had turned out. I couldn’t wait to get home to the kids, and Amy, who was 26 weeks pregnant with our third child. So, as a special treat, I booked a family holiday to Fiji. The plan was to get away from everything and everyone and spend some quality, relaxing time together. It sounded perfect.

  However, a day before we left, complications arose with the pregnancy. I didn’t want to take any chances, so I took Amy straight to the hospital. It didn’t appear to be anything overly serious, but it was concerning enough for the doctors to recommend that she stay in hospital so she could be monitored. That, of course, meant we couldn’t fly or travel, ending our holiday plans.

  Amy stayed in hospital for a few days and everything was fine with both her and the baby. In the meantime, I became Mr Mum, which meant running around like crazy trying to keep the kids in check. How Amy does it, I’ll never know. It gave me a much greater appreciation of what she has to contend with while I’m away.

  For the next five days, while Amy was in hospital, things seemed to settle down. Eventually the doctors said she might as well go home and take it easy and a couple more days went by without incident. However, on the fourth night, the Saturday, that all changed and we had to call an ambulance to rush Amy back to the hospital. Amy was remarkably composed, while I was panicking. I was so worried about Amy and was convinced we’d lost our baby. Thankfully, the doctors were able to trace the root of the problem, there was little to worry about. However, we were advised that Amy should stay in hospital for as long as possible to give the baby every chance to keep growing before the delivery. We didn’t have to wait long. Within a few days, and in a flurry of drama, little Molly was born. She was just 28 weeks and 3 days old and weighed only two pounds and six ounces. Her head was barely the size of a tennis ball. I was relieved that my wife and our baby were safe, but it was obvious that the Husseys had a tough road ahead. It could have been a lot worse.

  It was later explained to us that, had we been away in Fiji, as we were supposed to be the day after the initial problem arose – or even just a short distance from home – we definitely would have lost Molly and there was a strong chance that Amy would have been in mortal danger too. Also incredibly lucky was the fact that the ultrasound doctor was on duty the weekend Molly was delivered. Had he not been, we would have had to wait until the Monday for a scan to discover Amy needed emergency surgery. According to the medical advice we received, that would have been too late.

  It had all happened so quickly and it was so hard to take everything in. In just a few short moments one Saturday afternoon my entire life could have been completely turned upside down. I could have lost my wife, my baby and I would have had two little children to bring up alone. My cricket career would have been over, for sure. It made me realise just how much you have to enjoy every moment of your time on this earth. To think how much my life – and the lives of my most loved ones – could have changed in just the blink of an eye shook me up in a big way. I still get chills when I reflect on it. Trying to digest the unthinkable is not easy.

  With the crisis over, we were able to start focusing on nursing Molly to health. She had to stay in hospital for the next two months which was difficult for all of us, particularly Amy, who went in three or four times a day to feed Molly, yet night after night had to leave the hospital without her newborn baby. Amy was very stoic, but we both knew there was no choice. As for me, I would try to get there each day for a cuddle with Molly and to try to form a bond. Each time I was there it was so nice because it was the only time that Amy and I could be together with Molly and we’d sit there and chat about our day and plan for the next. The other two kids would be looked after by one set of grandparents or some friends and Amy and I would just chat in peace for an hour or so and be with Molly.

  But even in such a private situation I was reminded of what my life has become and to what extent it will never be the same. We were often interrupted by someone asking me to sign a shirt or a hat or bat, which might not sound like a big deal, but I couldn’t help feeling it was a little bit inappropriate. I never knocked anyone back, but after a while I had a quiet word to the staff about it.

  Fame is a peculiar thing. I got a taste of it in the early days, even when I was playing first-class only. Perth is quite a small town and people would often recognise me. However, back then, it was only really cricket fans who would approach me. I think the World Cup was the big turning point. Since then, I’ve noticed that many people in the street know who I am. Suddenly, it’s not just cricket people, but everybody. It’s not something that sits very well with me and, in fact, it makes me feel a little bit uncomfortable. The thing that probably irks me most is that it puts the people I’m with in an awkward position. I’ve been out for dinner with Amy and people have stared at her simply because she was with me. Amy is quite a shy person and I don’t like that she is made to feel uncomfortable when we’re trying to have a pleasant night out. One time I went out for a meal with Amy and her parents and some friends. It was quite embarrassing because I had people coming up to me asking if I could sign plates and have photos taken with them. We just wanted to have dinner! What I’m saying is probably quite hard to accept for some people, especially cricket fans. I don’t want to sound ungrateful for my profile. It gives me a whole lot of pleasure to be able to make people happy by speaking with them, or signing something or whatever. I know that when I was a kid I would get excited about seeing a big-time cricketer, so it’s great to be able to repay the compliment for a youngster now. In addition, I also have that fear, as I’ve discussed throughout this book, of letting people down or having them speak badly of me. This is a really important point for me. I don’t want to give people a bad impression and have them go off and tell a dozen of their mates that I’m unfriendly or rude. Information like that gets around like wildfire and I don’t want anyone to ever have negative connotations about me.

  I have never been given advice about fame or how to deal with it. It’s been a learn-as-you-go process and I’ve had to construct my own methods of adjusting to it. My approach has been to do everything I can to make sure I stay the same as always. I was always taught to treat people courteously, equally and with respect. My parents were very insistent on their children having good values and being good to the people around them. I don’t ever want to appear arrogant. That trait is simply not in my make-up and to have people think that way of me would be extremely disappointing. I can’t stand the thought of it! I’ve always been just a normal bloke, down to earth and modest and I have no intention of ever steering away from that. I’ll never be rude to a fan, knock back an autograph or brush off someone. The only point I want to make is that fame is not as easy or straightforward as some people believe.

  AMY HUSSEY

  Mike and I have been together for more than a decade and he is still very much that same lovely guy I met at university. We were both studying education; I am a primary teacher and he was studying secondary education. He needed to make up some credit points and took a class that I was in. He didn’t turn up to the first two weeks but when he did, we discovered we had an instant attraction to each other.

  I had no idea Mike was a professional sportsman. He asked me out on a date but throughout the evening made no mention that he was a cricketer. He made a real point of not telling me his full name. We got in the car after dinner and I said, ‘Mike, I don’t even know your surname!’ He was so reluctant to tell me.

  I can understand now why he didn’t want to say it. He just wanted to be seen for who he is, not the fact that he’s a sportsman. It didn’t make any difference to me when I found out. At that stage I was pretty naive, but the fact that I went out for dinner with him says that I knew he was a trustworthy and decent person, whatever it was that he did.

  I had grown up watching the cricket with my dad and when I told him Mike’s surname we bo
th clicked that he was, well, not a big name, but someone who played for WA. Still, Mike and I didn’t talk about cricket on our early dates. We just talked about life and everything else. It’s probably lucky he didn’t tell me he was a cricketer because maybe I wouldn’t have gone out with him!

  We’ve come a long way since then. Nowadays almost everyone knows that Mike plays cricket for Australia but, up until quite recently, whenever Mike was asked what he did for a living, he would always just say he was a teacher – even though he’s never taught! It wouldn’t be until we got to know people quite well that he would say he was a cricketer.

  I love that quality about Mike. He has never big-noted himself or used his name to gain an advantage in any way. Because I’m so proud of him, I don’t want either of us to feel like we have to hide what he does. It’s just that he thinks of himself as an average guy and that’s how I see him too. Around our family, he’s not Mike Hussey, Australian cricketer. He’s just Mike, the dad, the husband, the son.

  I learned a lot about Mike about three or four years into our relationship, when he went through his tough times with the WA team. During that period he was quite reserved and, overall, a bit flat. Communication has been the key to our relationship but I could see that he became a little closed off to others. Our conversations around that time were often me saying to Mike, ‘You either love the game and want to keep playing – if that’s the case, you go back and work hard, do whatever you can and wherever you get to is great – or you give it away and you feel happy with that.’ I knew he would never give cricket away because he’d always been so passionate about it.

  Mike was quiet and a bit sad about the way things were going. I told him he should spend more time speaking with Bob Carter, who was a hugely positive influence on Mike. I could only ever talk with Mike about the emotional side of things and help him to organise his thoughts. But Bob had become a great friend who could also talk about the technical aspects of what was going on.

  Mike had got to a point where he had wanted to play for Australia so much that he was burning himself out. If there was a day off he wanted to be training because nobody else would be. An extra day’s training, he believed, would get him one rung up the ladder, a small step ahead of everyone else. His life had become cricket and not much else. I told Mike that he needed to take a step back and calm down. He was putting so much pressure on himself to reach the top. Some people might have thought he’d gone a bit mad, but I didn’t see it that way. I saw him as a man with incredible determination to succeed.

  Somehow Mike’s cricket obsession didn’t affect our relationship all that much. He was pushing himself very hard, but he is a very considerate person and would always make time for me. Probably the only difference from other relationships was that his time was always very structured. He would organise to see me at a particular time and would tell me that at, say, 2pm he was going off for a hit. It was never a case of spending the day together and we’ll see what happens. It was much more like, ‘Okay, let’s have breakfast together, then I’m going to train. At 6pm I’ll pick you up and we’ll go out for dinner.’ That might sound a bit awkward but Mike ensured I never felt neglected.

  Not a lot has changed! The first thing Mike will say to me most mornings is, ‘Right, what’s the plan today?’ Sometimes I just want to say, ‘Let’s not have a plan.’ Sometimes I want us to have a day where we just take it as it comes. But I can see why he does it. When you have three kids and you play cricket for Australia, you have to have a structured life. Mike has been like that since I met him. He always has a list of things he wants to accomplish. He finds it hard to sit down and do nothing.

  Mike has managed to balance things out very well as his commitments have grown. Sometimes I wonder how he does it. He is away a lot, but he always seems to find time to spend with our children. Sometimes he’ll race in from training and will have just a few minutes before he has to head off to do an appearance or give a speech, and he’ll get down on the floor and play with the kids. It’s beautiful to see. He’s a very selfless person.

  A great example of this came shortly before we got married in April 2002. In the weeks leading up to the wedding there was a lot of media speculation that Mike was going to be selected for an upcoming tour. If he were selected we would have had to postpone the wedding. Mike became very worried but I just told him that if he got selected there would be no question – of course he should go. I’d always be here for him and our wedding could wait. If he got selected, it would be fantastic and if not, we’d have our wedding as planned, which would be great too! As it turned out, he didn’t get picked. But we had a beautiful wedding.

  At various times over the years we felt that Mike was on the verge of being selected but just missed out. However, I always believed that Mike would get his chance. I just knew it. Even when he was dropped from the WA side, in my heart I always thought he would reach the goal he had set himself. He worked hard enough, he was good enough and I didn’t think there was much more he had to do. It was just about an opportunity arising at the right time.

  I guess a lot of my confidence in Mike making it in cricket comes from my faith. I just prayed for him over and over. I think prayer is quite a powerful thing and if you have people praying for you it has to be a bonus. I believe that God has a plan for your life and I kept saying to Mike that whatever will be will be, but know that there is someone in control of what’s going to happen to you. I’m also a believer in that you don’t ever get more in life than you can cope with. Whether it’s challenging times or good times, I always come back to that and we’ve applied that way of thinking to Mike’s career. I don’t know if it’s made much difference to the way Mike feels overall, but maybe it helped him to relax a bit through those testing stages of his career.

  One instance that sums up Mike very well was our recent drama with Molly. I first went into hospital just two days after Mike had returned from a very long tour to the West Indies. Straight away he had a full-time job looking after the kids and me. He would come into the hospital twice a day with the kids and always made sure they were at all the other places they had to be. I don’t know how he did it. There were a few things he could have done better: sometimes the kids would come in to visit and I’d think, ‘Oh dear, what are you wearing?’ Mike would say, ‘Well, Jas insisted,’ and I’d say, ‘Well, you don’t let her! You tell her what she’s wearing!’ But apart from dressing the kids in funny clothes, he was amazing. Not once did he whinge about the situation. By the time I came back from hospital my little boy didn’t want me; he just wanted his dad!

  Things have settled down now but life is still very hectic. It’s only occasionally that we get the time to enjoy where Mike is at. We’ll be driving along somewhere and I’ll look over at him and say, ‘Can you believe it?’ I may not have doubted it would happen, but I’m a bit surprised at just how incredibly well it’s all gone. He’s had twelve years of lead-up, though, and deserves the success.

  Mike is very much the same man now as when I met him: loyal, kind and thoughtful. If I had to pick one thing that’s changed recently, it’s that he has developed an intense dislike of queuing! He went in to Medicare the other day and complained to me that he had to wait twenty-five minutes to get served. I laughed and said, ‘Welcome to the real world, babe!’

  There is obviously a whole lot more on my plate nowadays than a couple of years ago. Even without the drama of what Amy and I went through with Molly, I’d have to say that having a family and being an international cricketer is not an easy combination. I quite often think about how much time I’m away from my kids. There is no getting around the fact that I will miss a sizeable chunk of their formative years and that leaves me with very mixed emotions. I try to be philosophical about it, but I’d be lying if I didn’t say that I had my down times, especially when I’m away on a long tour. I often wonder whether it’s all worth it. Amy’s battling away looking after the kids, Jasmin is off to kindy for the first time or Will gets his f
irst tooth and I’m not there to be a part of it. Missing a lot of the precious day-to-day stuff that comes from being the father of a young family is quite hard to accept.

  Obstacles are those fruitful things you see when you take your eyes off the goal.

  At the moment, my kids are still very young and they probably don’t understand as much about their dad not being around as they would if they were older. I know that Brad Hogg found it hard to balance things because his kids were a bit older and very conscious that their dad was away a lot. I keep that in mind, though I don’t think it’s easy either way, really. There are two things I keep saying to myself when I get down about this situation. The first is that playing cricket for Australia is my life’s dream and I will only be able to do it for a short time. I know that Amy understands that, which puts my mind a lot more at ease. Her support and understanding over the years has been greater than I could ever begin to explain. The second great chance cricket has given me is to set up my family for a bright and prosperous future.

  For all the positives, though, there are some negatives to life as an international cricketer. I cringe when I hear people say I’ve got the best life in the world, everything is laid out for me and there’s nothing I have to worry about. Don’t get me wrong: it is a great life flying around the world playing the game I love, meeting new people and coming across great opportunities. There is no doubt about that and I feel extremely fortunate. But, at times, it is very difficult to keep all the competing forces in check, and being a sports person, one moment of misfortune can have a lethal impact. The same thing can happen in your private life. You can do all the best preparation in the world to be ready for cricket and you can apply the same principle to other aspects of your life, but there are some things for which you can never be prepared.