The player behind the voice
Few cricketers have played the game and enjoyed as much respect as Richie Benaud without breaking down doors and throwing up flamboyantly eye-catching performances
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Achievements
Few cricketers have played the game and enjoyed as much respect as Richie Benaud without breaking down doors and throwing up flamboyantly eye-catching performances. The 2000-plus runs and almost 250 wickets may not impress young readers, as so many cricketers of much more modest ability in the modern generation return better numbers simply because of the amount of cricket played and the opportunity of easy pickings against lesser teams. But Benaud, with his polished legspin, was much more than the sum of the runs he scored and the wickets he took. His demeanour, always calm and collected, inspired the men he led to give their best. And when he gave up cricket, and slipped almost effortlessly into the press box and behind the microphone, he was no less imposing.
In 1958-59 Benaud was made captain of Australia after Ian Craig's career was cut short by hepatitis, and he led Australia to a 4-0 triumph at home and regained the Ashes, personally picking up 31 wickets at 18.83 from five Tests. And from there on, he was to retain the urn twice, in future editions, where he would play crucial roles.
Benaud's understanding of the ebb and flow of the game, and the manner in which he can communicate this to the relevant people, using as few words and only as much energy as is needed, is now well known to the world thanks to his long stint as a commentator. But as a cricketer even, this was evident to those who watched him, and he was a man of many parts. As a legspinner, he did not quite employ the same dramatic breadth of turn as Shane Warne, but Benaud certainly did use every trick in the book. He plotted and planned, thought and out-thought, tempted and trapped batsmen, till they succumbed.
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If you must quibble, then the charge can be levelled that Benaud was a bit of a late bloomer. In approximately the first half of his Test career, which spanned from 1952 to 1964, he achieved little. In fact, there was little to suggest that he was the man for the job when he was handed the captaincy. Perhaps you might also say that Benaud was so careful with his words that he sometimes was less critical than he could have been. But, to his credit, he was the one on air when the infamous underarm incident happened, and called it exactly as he saw it, not mincing words.
Benaud was one of Wisden's cricketers of the year in 1962 and also inducted into the Australian hall of fame earlier this year but it is how he is viewed around the world that will define him. Canny legspinner, and cricket mind inferior to none, Benaud has come to represent many things that are good about cricket. The fact that he was approached by Kerry Packer in the formation of World Series Cricket in 1977, his grey hair lending it credibility much in the manner Brutus's involvement lent credibility to the ouster of Julius Caesar, is testament to the respect he commanded across the board. Search, and you will find people ready to pick holes in Sir Don Bradman, but you'll struggle to find someone who has a bad word for Benaud.
"Marvelous, simply marvelous." Anyone who has heard Benaud say those words, caressing every syllable as though he was tossing up a legbreak and luring a batsman out of his crease, will know better than to ask about Benaud's life after cricket. His legend as a commentator is so formidable - and some of us can't remember watching a series where was not involved in some capacity - that recently, when he was interviewed on television, a young fan asked him, "Mr. Benaud, have you ever played cricket?" If his achievements in cricket were bettered only by a few, his achievements since, as a broadcaster and journalist, have been matched by none.
Anand Vasu is assistant editor of Cricinfo