Underneath the Southern Cross

by Michael Hussey

  ‘Thanks Gill, yeah, it’s been tough, I’m glad to hear that.’

  We got down a few floors and Brad Haddin stepped into the lift. He took one look at me.

  ‘Aaargghh, Huss, that’s disgusting!!! Don’t make me look at that!’

  Oh well, I guess I appreciated Gilly’s efforts to pep me up.

  Eventually I could start to enjoy the tour. In Jaipur we set ourselves for a big game against England. We didn’t say, ‘Let’s put a marker in the ground for the Ashes,’ but most guys thought about it in that way. We particularly wanted to get Kevin Pietersen cheaply, and we didn’t want to just win. We wanted to give them a good belting.

  McGrath, Shane Watson and Mitchell Johnson bowled brilliantly and everything fell into place. We got Pietersen, continued getting wickets, and then Damien Martyn came out and every single ball was cannoning out of the middle of the bat. I was battling a bit, taking my time with a first real chance in the middle, but it was a joy watching Marto. I hit the winning runs off Steve Harmison, and for the first time I felt like I was really contributing on the tour.

  Leaving the field with Andrew Symonds after the team’s win in the ICC Champions Trophy match between Australia and England in Jaipur, India on 21 October 2006. (Photo by Hamish Blair/Getty Images)

  That win kickstarted our campaign. We faced the West Indies in the final, which surprised us as we’d been more worried about South Africa, India or England. We thought the West Indies were dangerous, because of Gayle and Lara, but we were confident after we’d heard that some of them, including Gayle, had suffered a bad bout of gastro. Nathan Bracken did a terrific job with the ball, before Damien Martyn and Shane Watson chased down the target comfortably. We were ecstatic to win the trophy for the first time, and I was very happy to bounce back after such a bad start.

  Back home, we had two weeks to get ready for the Ashes, and I had a first-class game against Queensland at the WACA. I was hardly playing any first-class cricket now, which was strange considering I’d played so many before I became a Test player. Prior to my Australian Test debut, I played 174 first-class games in eleven years. In my eight years of cricket as an Australian Test player, I played 79 Test matches and just 13 more first-class matches, seven of them for Western Australia.

  The consequence was, I found it tough playing for my state again. The expectation was to score runs, as I was a Test player. I put more pressure on myself, but as I wasn’t around the team and didn’t know the players or the dynamics between people very well, it was hard to feel comfortable. I batted best when I felt like I was part of a team and could help people. Also, I didn’t know the bowlers very well, and lastly, my mind would be drifting a little towards the next Test match. So my performances were not generally very good when I floated back into the West Australian team.

  In Brisbane, the hype was on. For our first team meeting, I’ve never seen an Australian team, before or since, so focused and motivated and intense. In a group that was normally very relaxed, there was definitely an edge.

  On the morning of the first Test, it was 32 or 33 degrees outside and Justin Langer went out in a jumper. I thought, What on earth is he doing? Is he crazy? JL was always intense, but this was bizarre. Clearly he had some reason, something going on in his mind, but it was another little sign telling me that this was not a normal Test match.

  Steve Harmison got ready to bowl the first ball to him. I don’t remember anyone saying he was going to bowl a wide. There’s always a big call like that, ‘Six off the first ball!’ and so on, but I was in the viewing area and the call that he was going to bowl a big wide might be an urban myth. At any rate, Harmie charged in and the ball went to second slip. There was an eruption in the viewing area. Whoa, what happened there?

  I didn’t think the Harmison wide set the tone of the series. There were those legends about Michael Slater hitting De Freitas for four off the first ball in 1994–95 and it having a huge impact, but I don’t think one ball can do that. Harmison’s first ball might have dented his confidence, but it didn’t set the tone. In 2010–11, we got Andrew Strauss out in the first over of the series, and then England went on and belted us. In Test cricket, you have so much time to think. You might think, while batting, all the signs are good and things are going your way, it’s your day, and the next thing, you’re out. It only takes one ball. Another day, you might feel terrible and scratch out good runs. There’s too much of a fine line, only millimetres here and there between success and abject failure, for signs and portents to carry any weight.

  But at any rate, Justin in his jumper was building momentum on that first morning. Having been an opening batsman for so long, I couldn’t believe how he was thrashing away, hitting massive drives. What are you doing, mate? He really did want to send a message. As a nervous batsman in the dressing room, it was hard to watch as JL was taking plenty of risks and they were coming off. The scoreboard was rocketing along and it went his way, and our way. His 82 off 98 balls got us off to a great start to the Ashes series.

  England were coming at us very hard, however; they were right up for it. They got Haydos, JL and Marto out and the game was right in the balance when I joined Ricky at 3/198.

  We put on 209 over the next two sessions. Early in my innings, I was facing Flintoff and he was bowling very fast. I let one go and it flicked my pad. The English appealed, and after I was given not out they were chirpy towards me. I thought, This is what Ashes cricket’s all about. Then Flintoff pitched up and I drove one past him for four to get off the mark. It felt beautiful being off the mark; I could relax a little. Flintoff gave me a bit of a look – just slightly wide-eyed – like he was thinking, This didn’t happen in 2005.

  But really the partnership was all about Ricky. We were able to take the game away from them. He scored so quickly, all around the ground, that it took all the pressure off me.

  When I was 86 and thinking about a hundred, Flintoff got me with a good ball from around the wicket. I felt I played a good forward defence and was disappointed and angry, but he’d got me with a great ball and I was happy to have got some runs early in the series.

  We made 602 at almost a run a minute, setting up the match well. Late on the second day, though, I was worried that I’d stuffed everything up. Strauss hooked a McGrath bouncer in the air behind square leg. I was fielding back there, and Brett Lee was at fine leg. We both ran for it and I got there first. But as I took the catch, we made contact and my spike sliced into his leg. I took off, celebrating and waving to the crowd and carrying on a bit, before stopping and seeing Brett lying on the ground. I thought, I’ve taken out our opening bowler on the second day of the Ashes series. I ran back and saw a huge bleeding gash in his leg. Oh no, what have I done? Thankfully it wasn’t too deep and they were able to tape it up.

  Though we bowled England out for 157, Ricky didn’t enforce the follow-on. JL batted brilliantly for a hundred and we declared, really confident. We got through their top order quickly but on the fourth afternoon it was getting frustrating when Paul Collingwood and Kevin Pietersen held out for a couple of hours. Pietersen blocked one back to Warnie, who got his throw back to Gilly all wrong and looked like he was trying to hit KP. They were meant to be mates! Pietersen gave Warnie a big spray. Not everyone’s confident enough to do that, and the episode fired everyone up. Collingwood charged Warnie and got stumped, and Flintoff pulled a half-tracker to JL at deepish mid-on, but at stumps we knew we still had to get Pietersen. Fortunately, very early on the last day he absolutely belted one off Binga and picked out Damien Martyn at midwicket.

  After the Test, Ricky pulled us together and said, ‘Enjoy this Test win but remember it’s the first match, they’ll come back very hard. Look after yourselves and be ready for Adelaide.’

  The Adelaide Test started at the end of the same week, so it was going to be a challenge to both sides’ endurance. England won the toss and batted really well, Collingwood and Pietersen making massive scores. They belted Warnie everywhere, which was a bi
t of a worry, and McGrath was struggling with a heel injury. Ricky had been keen for him not to play, but Pigeon had never let him down before and was determined and played with the soreness.

  England had us in the field for nearly two days, but had taken a fair while getting to 6/551. We just had to bat well for a couple of days, and we could go to Perth 1–0 up.

  It didn’t work out that way, initially. We’d lost three quick wickets for 65 when I joined Ricky. We were finding it very difficult to get on top of their bowlers, before Ricky pulled Matthew Hoggard to Ashley Giles at deep square leg and was dropped. It would have been 4 for less than 100, all our best batsmen gone.

  I had to work my backside off for every single run. Ricky on the other hand was making it look easy. At the end of one over he said, ‘Huss, have a look at this!’ There was a big crowd drinking under the scoreboard, and Ricky had spotted a woman on a guy’s shoulders, and the crowd was yelling, ‘Get your shirt off!’ She stopped in the middle of them and whipped her shirt off … to reveal that she was wearing another shirt underneath. They called for her to get that off, and she did … and had another shirt on under that. I couldn’t believe Ricky and I were standing in the middle of the Adelaide oval in an Ashes Test, watching her having fun with the crowd, laughing our heads off. But that was the way batting with Ricky could relax you.

  England took the second new ball and Hoggard had Ricky caught for 142. Not long after, on 91, I chopped one on. I was so angry at missing out on a hundred again and getting out to a still-new ball, with our score still 260 runs behind, and I remember storming off into the old dressing rooms, which are close to the public. It was the angriest I’d ever been after getting out. I would never throw my bat, but I was chucking my gloves and carrying on a fair bit. I didn’t realise people in the viewing area and the public could hear what I was saying. Ricky came in and said, ‘Huss, pull your head in, everyone can hear you; you’re going to get into trouble.’

  Pup, Gilly and Warnie all batted extremely well, which took the wind out of England’s sails. Their mentality started to change. We ended up 38 runs short, a fantastic effort, and figured we had saved the Test match now.

  On the fifth morning, England started at 1/59, ahead by 97 runs. It was a draw for all money. But Ricky had a glint in his eye, quite serious and intense. John Buchanan called a team meeting before we went out, which didn’t happen often. He and Ricky said, ‘We can win this Test match, but we’ve got to find out a way to do it.’ Warnie added, ‘We can win it if we believe it.’

  John and Ricky were asking us how we should approach it tactically – attacking fields, probably go for a few more runs, and go all out for wickets, or go the other way and strangle them, set defensive fields, bowl dot balls and frustrate them. As a team, that’s what we decided to do. Warnie would tie them down from one end and the quicks would attack them from the other. Those three leaders, John, Ricky and Shane, were very confident, and we all got on board.

  In my mind, I still thought that if England batted for two sessions we couldn’t do it. But Warnie was unbelievable, bowling non-stop for two sessions, hardly sending down a bad ball. England were in survival mode, which worked in our favour as well. We were lucky to get Strauss. I caught him off Shane when he’d missed the ball by at least six inches. The players who liked looking for the signs were saying, ‘It’s going our way today.’ A turning point was the run-out of Ian Bell. We got a sense that they were starting to panic. And then Warnie bowled Pietersen around his legs. The most sceptical among us started to believe. Flintoff recognised this and came out to try to change the momentum of the game: Stuff this, I’m going to get a quick fifty and take it away. But our quicks had the ball reversing nicely, and he nicked a big flashing drive. The English definitely started thinking, Oh no, we’re in trouble.

  But Collingwood was surviving, and as it got towards tea, time was becoming an issue and we got nervous again. Even if we got them out, would we have long enough to chase more than 150 runs?

  We kept picking up wickets, McGrath getting the tail-enders. When he got James Anderson, I got a big gush of nerves. I’d been hoping we would get a draw, and now it was, We’re a chance to win this. It’ll be tough, but we can win this and I may have to bat!

  With a target of 168 in 36 overs, I sat down hoping the guys above me would get the runs and I wouldn’t have to bat. But Test cricket rarely works out that way.

  Justin slogged Hoggard through midwicket for four off the very first ball, setting the tone, and we were away. Haydos belted a couple. They were both out by the time we were 33, but at least they’d relieved some pressure with a fast start.

  Ricky went in for Justin, and when Matty was out I was promoted to number four. The rationale was, the left-armer Giles would be bowling into the rough and it would be difficult for right-handers to score. Ricky wanted a left-right combination to counter him.

  As I walked to the centre, I was very nervous. It was a beautiful late afternoon, but suddenly England had a surge of belief, telling each other, ‘If we get a couple more wickets here, we might win.’

  Ricky said, ‘Let’s just stabilise, get a partnership going, and think about winning later on.’

  I tried to think of it as a one-day innings: get busy, work the ball, run hard between wickets. We put on 83 in 16 overs, a standard one-day partnership. Then, when Ricky got out to Giles, we needed 52 in 14 overs.

  Damien Martyn came out. I was geed up, intense – that flaw that the guys had told me I had to work on. I told Marto what the bowlers were trying. He was blank-faced, weirdly calm, detached, unaffected by the situation, as if he wasn’t even hearing me. Little did I know what was really going through his mind.

  On his first ball from Flintoff, Marto charged and smashed him over mid-off. I thought, You beauty, come on Marto, do this for twenty minutes and the game is all over. But the next ball, he charged again, sliced a shot and was unlucky, picking out Strauss at a fine gully.

  Pup came out, energised and bouncing around. We needed 47 in 13 overs, but suddenly every run was looking hard again. I wasn’t feeling fluent at all. It was a fifth-day pitch. I’d been hoping another guy, Ricky or Marto, could just finish it off. I wondered if I had to take responsibility and up the scoring rate. It was getting stressful again.

  We had a bit of luck. Pup played one off his pads and we ran three. It got thrown in to Pietersen for a relay. He hurled it as hard as he could towards the keeper, but it landed in the rough, took a funny bounce and ran off for four overthrows. We’d got seven off that ball and I started thinking, Yes, this is our day. It felt like two or three overs’ worth of runs, in just that little incident.

  As in that long-ago Shield final, people were pouring out of the city down the hill to the oval. They were making an enormous noise, counting the required runs down. I could feel the adrenaline building. When we were 4/163, I pulled Anderson for four, ran down the wicket and punched the air – I couldn’t control the emotion. One more! Come on! We had three overs up our sleeve but it felt like the last ball. I wanted him to hurry up and bowl. I was just going to hit it and run.

  He pitched it up. I cover-drove it into a gap and took off. To this day, it’s the best feeling I’ve had on a cricket field. Pup and I embraced each other, and then I looked up for the boys in the viewing area. Then, I saw something I’d never seen from an Australian team. Often sub-continental teams ran onto the ground after a win, but not Australians. Now they did; they were rushing down the steps and converging on us on the field. Seeing the excitement in their faces, I was overwhelmed. I was hugging everyone. Ricky and Shane said it was the best win they’d played in, after more than 100 Tests. We went in front of the scoreboard and clapped the fans. None of us wanted that moment to end.

  By the time I got into the dressing room, I was exhausted, mentally and physically, but didn’t know it yet. I did none of the proper recovery, the ice baths and Gatorade and so on. I went straight for a beer and it went straight to my head.

  B
ut there was something weird about that evening, too. Within half an hour, Andrew Flintoff and some other English players were coming in for a beer. I sat there thinking, Wow, they’ve just lost this amazing Test match. If I was in their shoes I couldn’t bring myself to congratulate the opposition so quickly. But Flintoff seemed happy to have been part of this amazing Test. I would be distraught for days or weeks after losing like that. I thought it was weird that they were taking it so well. Were they putting a brave face on it, or just not hurting so much?

  The series was still well and truly alive, and we were the ones who needed to win it to take back the Ashes. Some of our senior players, such as Ricky, Haydos, Marto and JL, didn’t want to be drinking with the Poms. So they went off into the physio room and had a few beers on their own there. Ricky said the next day, ‘I didn’t want to drink with those blokes, we’ve got a series to win here.’

  After a while, JL had great pleasure in coming out of the physio room and telling Flintoff it was time to leave so we could sing our team song. Flintoff was saying, ‘Come on, Justin, I’ll stay and we can sing your team song together!’

  ‘No chance, get out.’

  He was very happy to kick the England captain out, and we sang a particularly boisterous version of Underneath the Southern Cross, knowing they were next door listening.

  The party continued in our hotel, but I was too tired to stay for long. The rest of the boys stayed for a few hours celebrating. I’d had enough and, exhausted, collapsed onto my bed and let the adrenaline finally run out of me.

  I wasn’t part of what happened that night with Damien Martyn, but I heard about it later, like everyone else.

  Early the next day, we were at the airport and someone mentioned how Marto was nowhere to be seen. I thought he must be in bed after a big night. People were ringing him, but he wasn’t answering. Then the word got around that he’d taken off, he was retiring. I thought it was a joke. No way, he’s just sleeping it off, he’ll be fine, he’ll catch a later flight.