by Brad Haddin
The squad included four new faces: all-rounder Marcus North, fast bowler Ben Hilfenhaus, leg-spinner Bryce McGain and opening batsman Phillip Hughes. I’d encountered all the new blokes through either Sheffield Shield or ODI games but Phil, who was the only NSW player, was the one I knew best. He’d made an impressive debut with the Blues the previous season, particularly in our finals win over Victoria, where he recovered from a first-innings six to score 116 in the second innings. Like a lot of players before him, he’d come to the Big Smoke as a country teenager hoping to make his mark. He was a very unworldly 19-year-old and his culture shock was bigger than most because the town where he grew up, Macksville, was so tiny, with a population under 3000. He had a car but wasn’t comfortable behind the wheel in Sydney traffic, so he often came to training with me.
Various other members of the group had also trained and played together, but the bonds between us weren’t yet strong. As far as experience went, only Punter and Mike Hussey had been on Australia’s previous tour of South Africa in 2006. Tim and Punter had a plan to build us into a cohesive force and mapped out all the training sessions ahead of time. In nets sessions Punter stood behind the stumps at the non-striker’s end and watched over everything. We formed groups in which we put into words what we wanted to achieve individually and as a group on the tour, and we developed ‘mission statements’. And we had a night session where Punter led the more senior players in telling yarns from previous tours. At the end of the story-telling session he said that it marked the end of talk about senior or junior players — we all had to be equally accountable to ourselves and each other.
The plan worked brilliantly. We got to know and trust one another over those six days and came together as a tight unit, ready to shake off the hoodoo and not be intimidated by the fact that the Proteas had won 18 of their previous 25 Tests, including the ones they’d claimed from us in Australia. Ricky won the toss and we were all expecting him to say we’d field first but instead he chose to bat, reasoning that there would be more nicks to be had as the ground hardened up on the second day (which proved to be the case). Phil Hughes was out for a duck and Huss and Simon Katich didn’t fare much better. At 3 for 38, a change of direction was needed to arrest our decline and it came in the form of a 113-run partnership from Punter and Pup, followed by another 113-run double-hander from Marcus North and me (I’d played a lot of cricket with Marcus and it was terrific to be there to see him get a brilliant 117 in his Test debut), plus a big 96 from Mitchell Johnson, who then went to work on their batsmen, giving them no hope of matching our 466 total. Ricky chose not to enforce the follow on, and we won by 162 runs.
The feeling of shared pride in what we’d achieved was immense. We all knew we’d been part of something special. It was a wonderful moment when Huss led us in ‘Under the Southern Cross I Stand’, out there in the middle of the New Wanderers Stadium. He finished by bringing the circle in and reminding us that while this was a victory to savour, we couldn’t get carried away with ourselves. We still had a series to win.
We did so with our victory in the Second Test four days later in Durban. Once again we batted first. Phil Hughes and Simon Katich came out firing on all cylinders, each passing 100, contributing the bulk of our 352 total. Unfortunately, in contrast to my 63 and 37 from the previous game, I was out for just five in the first innings of this one. However, I had a good time behind the stumps, beginning with a big stretching catch to get South African opener Neil McKenzie out for a duck off Johnno’s third ball.
Peter Siddle took it upon himself to get out the Proteas’ tail, including Dale Steyn. His attitude was, ‘We’re here to play and it’s a contest all the way to the end.’ He knew he’d cop it in the second innings from Steyn, who was one of the most feared fast bowlers around, but he didn’t care. It was a great instance of putting the team first. Again, Punter had the option of enforcing the follow on. By not doing so he allowed Phil Hughes to make history and become Player of the Match after his second innings 160 made him the youngest man ever to score a century in both innings of a Test. Our fifth wicket declaration meant I didn’t bat a second time, but I was very happy with my six catches and a stumping in the match.
Ricky said in the media conference afterwards that our series win with a game to go was his proudest moment as captain. He’d thoroughly earned that feeling, having shown great leadership in steering us from underdogs to champions in such a short time. It really felt like we had turned a corner. We celebrated with another memorable singing of the team song and a wonderful party, creating indelible, treasured memories.
There was a sanctioned visitor period during the tour. Some players’ family members had already arrived, but Karina and I had arranged that she and Zac would fly straight into Cape Town, site of the Third Test. We were looking forward to seeing each other but an 18-hour flight with a six-month-old baby is no picnic and when they landed Karina found the luggage had been sent to the wrong destination. She arrived at the hotel exhausted, wanting nothing more than to hand Zac over to me and fall into bed.
There was more than a week until the game started and we had a few days’ break before training recommenced, giving us time to splash around in the pool with Zac, go for ice creams on the waterfront and make the excursion to the top of Table Mountain with the other couples. It was very nice for those of us who had visitors but for various reasons not everyone did. Life on the road gets tough for everyone at some point — we’ve all been there — and after Karina and Zac had gone home I spent some time having a few beers and chewing the fat with Mitchell Johnson, Stuart Karppinen and bowling coach Troy Cooley (it’s easy for people to forget that the support staff go through the same things in terms of missing family and home as the players).
The team went into the Third Test feeling strong. Once again we won the toss and went into bat. But we’d somehow lost our mojo and the Proteas had found theirs. My 42 was the second-highest score of the first innings, in which they kept us to 209; they then easily eluded our bowlers, amassing 651 in their own first innings. It was all over on Day 4, when South Africa won by an innings and 20 runs. They also took the two T20I games. No-one was overly bothered about that but we would have liked to have taken out the one-day series. We had a good win in the first game, but they took the next three to clinch it. Dead rubber or not, we played to win in the final game and the victory lifted us to world number two in the one-day rankings. Pup and I opened the batting for the one-dayers and I was satisfied that I’d made a good contribution, scoring above a half-century in three of the five games.
Our major focus now was the Ashes series that would start in July, but first up we had a series of ODIs (and a T20I) against Pakistan. The subcontinent was going through a period of instability. Six months earlier, just after our tour of India had wrapped up, the world had been rocked by the Mumbai attacks, and Pakistan continued to be in turmoil. With the Australian Government, Cricket Australia and the Australian Cricketers’ Association deciding the situation was still too unstable for us to play the Pakistanis in their own country, the decision was taken to move the games to the UAE.
The move had been announced shortly after we left Australia in February, and the wisdom of it was confirmed in the most awful way just a few weeks later. Following the events in Mumbai, the Indian Government had barred its team from touring its northwestern neighbour. Sri Lanka stepped in to fill the hole in the schedule, and the team was on its way to a game at Gaddafi Stadium in Lahore in early March when a dozen terrorists ambushed the bus in a targeted attack. Six police officers, one of the drivers and another civilian were killed and six members of the Sri Lankan team and a member of the coaching staff were injured. The news reached us in South Africa and our thoughts were with all concerned, including Trevor Bayliss, who had left NSW the previous year and taken up the position of Sri Lankan coach. TB was on the bus when it came under fire, but narrowly escaped being hit.
We claimed the one-day series in UAE, but it was a good tussle, wit
h us winning three of the games and Pakistan two. It’s always a bit strange playing in the UAE in terms of atmosphere. The Emiratis themselves don’t have a huge interest in cricket. The migrant workers, who make up almost 90 per cent of the population, often do, since the vast majority come from South Asian countries. However, they frequently can’t afford the ticket prices or can’t attend games because they are working, leaving the stadiums largely empty. Despite that I really enjoyed the actual cricket, because keeping in those conditions, which mimic those of the subcontinent itself with their low bounce and lack of carry through, is so challenging. It’s hard work but it keeps you on your toes, which I appreciate. There was also enjoyment to be had with the bat, including a zippy opening partnership with Shane Watson in the fifth game, when we got to 51 in just eight overs. As a bonus, Karina and Zac (now six months old) flew over for a quick visit and we all got to spend time with Michael and Amy and their growing family, who hadn’t seen Zac since he was eight weeks old.
I got back to Sydney on 10 May but only had two weeks at home before it was time to head to Queensland for the pre-Ashes camp. This was all about taking care of the promotion and media side of the tour: having photos taken in all the different shirts, filing TV commercials and having briefings on Cricket Australia’s strategy — all part of the life of a professional athlete.
We arrived in England full of determination, bolstered by what we’d achieved in South Africa. Recent history had seen a win for each side: England had claimed the coveted trophy in the 2005 series then lost it 5–0 in the summer of 2006–07. But there’d been a changing of the guard in both teams since then. There was everything to play for.
At the beginning of June, a month before the First Test, we played against Sri Lanka and the West Indies in the first round of the World Twenty20 tournament. We lost both games and were knocked out of the competition. It wasn’t ideal, but it wasn’t Test cricket either. It didn’t affect our confidence as we headed into the opening match of the Ashes campaign, which was held at Cardiff in a Test first. I’d thought my previous experience of the Ashes was intense but, knowing I was going to play, everything was heightened to an incredible degree — the anxiety, the tension and the excitement. Even the tour match we played at Hove in the lead-up to the First Test was something else, with the ground sold out every day.
England won the toss and went in to bat on an excellent pitch. They produced a reasonable first innings score of 435. (I only took one catch, but it was a beauty, getting Paul Collingwood off a Ben Hilfenhaus ball.) However, we delivered a massive response. Simon Katich worked away until he had 122, Punter hung in there for a valuable 150 (having passed 11,000 Test runs on the way), and the scoreboard read 5 for 474 when I went out to bat just before stumps on Day 3. It wasn’t actually supposed to be me going out. Ricky was sorting out a nightwatchman and told Peter Siddle to get his gear on. I had too much nervous energy to just sit there. I saw my chance, flew into my own gear while Sidds was still only half ready, and ran out the door. I’ve never been a fan of the nightwatchman concept; my view is any batsman should be out there trying to score runs. I added four before the end of play. When I walked back into the change room I said to Ricky, ‘Mate, I just could not wait any more.’ If I’d got out he would have strangled me, but as it was he just shook his head with a laugh.
Resuming play the following morning, I was on four and Marcus North on 54. It was another one of those perfect days. I was so in tune that I almost felt I could control the approach of the ball. Three hours later I had reached 121 off 151 balls. To have made a century in my first Ashes game meant the world to me, and it was even more special that my parents were there to see it. I was going for my fourth six when Ravi Bopara caught me at deep mid-wicket off a Collingwood ball. With Marcus on 125 not out, Punter declared at 674.
We had this. We’d totally outplayed England. We had a 232 lead and more than a day’s play to go. All we had to do now was bowl them out and add a few more runs of our own and the game was ours. At 7 for 159 we were looking great, and at 9 for 233 with 40 minutes to go it should have been all but a formality. But their tail-enders, Jimmy Anderson and Monty Panesar, hung on ferociously. Peter Siddle, Nathan Hauritz and Marcus North all gave it their best but could not break through.
With the tension ratcheting up with every passing minute, we were very unimpressed by what seemed like blatant stalling, as their 12th man ran out with a change of gloves two overs in a row and their physio took a leisurely stroll out to the middle, despite not having been called for. There were also frequent confabs between the two batsmen, slowing things down. After the game, England captain Andrew Strauss flatly rejected the idea that his side had been deliberately wasting time — but a few years later Jimmy Anderson confirmed what was obvious to everyone: they had used ‘all the tactics we could’ to chew up minutes and avoid the loss.
Ultimately, though, as irritating as this gamesmanship was, it should not have been enough to cost us the match. We’d driven the game, controlled the tempo. It should have been ours but we failed to win the big moment by getting that final wicket. And so the match ended in a draw. In retrospect, I think having had a win in Cardiff would have made a huge difference to the way the series unfolded. It would have given us the mental armour we needed to push forward in every part of every game. Instead, the draw got the England side ‘out of jail’ and gave them the impetus to push and keep pushing.
Four days later, the Second Test started at Lord’s. Zac, Karina, and her sister, Danielle, had timed a holiday in England around the game and experienced some of the intensity of the Ashes passing through a cordon of paparazzi as they left the hotel each morning.
Australia had lost to England here precisely once in the twentieth century, way back in 1934. The day before the match, England’s Freddie Flintoff announced that as a result of ongoing knee problems that had flared up again at Cardiff, he would retire after the final Test in the series. There were also a couple of changes in the English line-up, including the fact that, despite his match-saving effort in the previous game, Monty Panesar was out to make room for Graham Onions. But far from being unsettled by all this, the Poms seemed to be inspired, with openers Strauss and Alastair Cook reaching 196 before we could make a breakthrough. Johnno got Cook lbw for 95 (his 100th Test wicket) and we started to fight back. By close of play we’d claimed half a dozen wickets, but England finished the day on 364, including Strauss’s 161 not out.
It wasn’t one of my best days on the field, that’s for sure. I slipped into the quicksand and Johnno was struggling too, spraying them left and right. Lord’s can be tricky for keepers at the best of times, with the ball moving in mysterious ways, wobbling and dropping. The byes started building up. Some of them were ones I just couldn’t reach, but others bobbled up and I missed them because I was second-guessing myself and Johnno. Wides were being called and the pressure was building up from the huge crowd. I didn’t miss any catches, but I started having trouble with Peter Siddle too, as we racked up 10 extras in two overs. I walked off the ground thinking, Thank god that’s over. As a team we had not performed well. Someone had to front the media conference but no-one wanted to, knowing what it would be like. I said, ‘Bugger it, I’ll do it. They’re going to get stuck into me either way.’
I walked into the packed media room and the first thing I said when I sat down was, ‘We didn’t have a great day today. I was partly to blame. I had one of those days when things didn’t go my way and I didn’t play the way I wanted to.’ Instantly all the tension went out of the room. It was fascinating. Five minutes before, the press had had the taste of blood and if I’d been defensive or tried to bluster my way through it would have been a mauling. Instead, I went straight onto the front foot and it took all the anxiety out of the situation. A few of the journos even clapped when we wrapped up. All my life I’ve had trouble sleeping properly when I’m worried. That night I slept perfectly. The experience reinforced the fact that it’s always better to deal w
ith an issue head-on rather than trying to duck it or leaving your mess for someone else to fix.
The following day’s play started beautifully, with Ben Hilfenhaus bowling Strauss on just the second delivery of the morning. We had them all out before lunch for 425, but we didn’t bat the way we needed to. In this case, the numbers did tell the story: Huss was the only one who got over 50 and we were all out for 215. Our 406 second innings was a hell of a lot better, including Michael Clarke’s 136 and my 80, but it wasn’t good enough, and England won the Lord’s clash for the first time in 75 years. It was a big blow to our confidence, although we reminded ourselves that the series was far from over.
I didn’t even make it into the game in the Third Test at Edgbaston. We’d already done the toss and were in the pre-game warm-up. Peter Siddle was bowling. I would normally never catch balls off the bowlers in a warm-up, but there had been some criticism of Sidds for running on the wicket. Troy Cooley had asked me to take a look at a few deliveries — no batsman, just watching how the balls came through. The ball wobbled, as it does in England. I caught it but it smashed down onto my left ring finger. I knew instantly there was real damage. I ran to the change room to see Alex, the physio, who asked me to move the finger. It bent in completely the wrong direction. He asked if I could play and I said, ‘I have movement.’ Alex put his hand on the finger as I moved it again and felt fragments of bone shifting inside. He couldn’t understand how I was able to move it at all, but the break had been bad enough to send me into shock, even though I didn’t realise it at the time. He told me I needed a scan and delivered the obvious verdict: ‘You’re out of the match.’
Punter went to see Andrew Strauss just as they were about to go out to bat and told him what had happened. The teams had been picked, the team sheets handed in. It would have been within the rules for Strauss to force me to play injured. But in a piece of good sportsmanship he said, ‘Send in your back-up keeper, that’s fine.’ Graham Manou was the man on the spot. As had been the case for me in 2005, he hadn’t really been expecting to play during the whole series, and he knew he wasn’t playing today because the team had been set. So it was no wonder the blood drained from his face when Punter and Tim Nielsen told him he was about to make his Test debut after all, in the most dramatic circumstances. (As it turned out, that was his only appearance in the Baggy Green.)