Big hair, big deeds

	Players like Javed Miandad made brave runs, wearing their bruises with pride, playing epic innings' against hostile short-pitched bowling © Getty Images

If the 1970’s was the era of the cool giants of the game, the 1980’s was surely the time of the great allrounders. It’s not easy to compare players from different generations but it’s fascinating to compare the generations themselves.

The 80s was the decade when one-day cricket became a staple of the cricket diet. Slow, steady starts, wickets in hand and a crescendo in the last 10 overs. Once the chasing team’s asking rate got above the six runs per over figure, Richie Benaud pronounced many a solemn death. Today, that would be a stroll to the finish line.

It was also the first signs of West Indies' domination in ODI cricket coming to an end. India surprised even themselves when they famously won the 1983 World Cup and Australia were shock winners of the 1987 World Cup in the subcontinent. That ‘home’ hoodoo still holds true. No host has won a World Cup yet.

What about the allrounders though? So many genuine legends, all playing in the same era. Ian Botham, Richard Hadlee, Imran Khan, Kapil Dev and Clive Rice were similar players, genuinely capable of being selected for their batting or their bowling. Hadlee might be borderline as a batsman as was Malcolm Marshall who was just out of that true allrounder class but as bowlers, they were both peerless.

Perhaps age is dimming my memory but I recall attrition and hard work for batsmen. The West Indians were probably exempt from that - Gordon Greenidge, Desmond Haynes, Richie Richardson and Viv Richards were strokeplayers with a young Gus Logie and Carl Hooper showing signs of class too. The other great batsman of that genre painted their reputations with drops of blood. Players like Sunil Gavaskar, Allan Border, Graham Gooch and Javed Miandad made brave runs, wearing their bruises with pride, playing epic innings' against hostile short-pitched bowling. Dean Jones' death-defying innings (literally) in the tied Test in Chennai will rank amongst the most courageous sporting performances of all time, in any sport.

Martin Crowe and David Gower were as elegant as any in cricketing history. The early Steve Waugh model showed glimpses of style (his later technique was much more effective but less attractive) and Aravinda De Silva was always good to watch. Pakistan had Salim Malik’s artistry and India had the wonderful wrists of Mohammad Azharuddin.

This next statement may appear confused but the bowling seemed high quality without being memorable. Does that make sense? I know West Indies had their usual production line of fearsome quicks but there seemed to be an awful lot of good medium-pace attacks around. Bob Willis was quick enough at times, Craig McDermott had good wheels and Wasim Akram was freakish but I can’t remember being captivated by anyone in particular. The spin-bowling stocks were particularly uninspiring with lots of steady, reliable tweakers but very little in the way of flair. Abdul Qadir was the obvious exception and his legacy still lives today.

Australia were certainly a mediocre team of battlers for much of that decade, especially after the retirement of the Holy Trinity (Greg Chappell, Dennis Lillee and Rod Marsh) until we saw a glimpse of what the 90s had to offer. Border was the rock they were built around but it should not be forgotten that this was also the decade when teams started employing a full-time coach (Bob Simpson for Australia). Twenty years later, we now have a ridiculous circus of support staff and computer boffins who require their own coach (the bus variety).

We heard of the great African players like Graeme Pollock and Barry Richards but most of us never really saw how good they were. That is a great pity. How they dealt with Curtly Ambrose, Malcolm Marshall, Courtney Walsh, Patrick Patterson and Co would have been great to see. We’ll never know …

Something else we’ll never know is how the West Indians would have dealt with their own fast bowlers. Would they have ducked and weaved and worn bruises like a badge of honour or would they have taken on the short ball without fear? Would Viv have batted without a helmet against a relentless four-pronged pace attack? Probably!

The 1980s reflected the global economy of the time. These were hard men, eking out a living in tough times and the general style of play reflected that. Except for Botham in '81 of course!