Test of Will

by Glenn McGrath

Economy rate: 3.36

  Catches: 16

  Test runs: 355

  ONE-DAY INTERNATIONALS: 67

  Wickets: 78

  Best bowling: 7–20

  Five wickets in an innings: 2

  Average: 31.57

  Strike rate: 41.7

  Economy rate: 4.53

  Catches: 19

  ODI runs: 471

  A few days after Andy Bichel’s Test career ended in 2003, our skipper Steve Waugh wrote him a letter that outlined how much he had inspired people. Tugger said something along the lines that he would have loved to have had ten players with Bic’s character and commitment, and while it was the ultimate compliment, it was also warranted. I remember Andy Bichel as being the type of player who, if he knew he risked getting injured trying to stop a four or take a catch, he wouldn’t baulk—he was all heart and it’s why I loved playing with him. He was one of the most unselfish cricketers I met, and while he wasn’t a natural—he wasn’t born with the raw pace of Bing or the height of Dizzy—he worked hard. He was physically strong and each of his 58 Test wickets were the result of determination at it’s very best and of someone who left nothing in the tank.

  Bic represented Australia in 19 Tests and was named the 12th man in just as many. I have no doubt it must have hurt him to be named to carry the drinks so often—there was one match when Steve forgot to tell him and he’d marked out his run-up because he expected to be bowling—he never allowed for it to show and he never allowed for it to stop him from smiling. And yet, his career had plenty of highlights. He dismissed Brian Lara on seven occasions during the 2003 tour of the West Indies; he took 60 wickets in a season for Queensland on two occasions; he was the Sheffield Shield Player of the Year in 1996–97; in 2005–06, at the grand old age of 36, he was named the Pura Cup Player of the Year after scoring 452 runs and taking 50 wickets; he hammered 125 against Sri Lanka in a tour match; and, make no bones about it, Andy Bichel was one of the reasons why we won the 2003 World Cup, because apart from his 16 wickets at 12.3 (and that included 7–20 against England), the gritty Queenslander featured in two match-winning stands with Michael Bevan, one of which was a 73-run ninth wicket stand. Bic or Michael Kasprowicz would be picked in the Australian 12 at the expense of the other, but it was not a problem because they weren’t only great mates, they lived in the same street in Brisbane! The story goes that when Bic was left out of an Aussie squad, he demanded to know who had replaced him. Upon hearing it was Kaspa (Kasprowicz), his response was said to have been, ‘Well, that’s all right then.’ Since his retirement, Bic has coached Papua New Guinea’s national team and had a stint on Cricket Australia’s selection panel. From all reports he did both jobs with his trademark enthusiasm and wholeheartedness. I remember Bic as someone who looked you in the eye when he had something to say, and his handshake was vice-like.

  MICHAEL KASPROWICZ

  I always found [a lot came down to belief]. You have to enter every match with a total belief that your preparation is right—not only your own preparation and skills, but all your mates around you. Generally during my time in the side you really noticed it. There was that total belief in the dressing room and it got you through those moments.

  —’KASPER’ ON SELF-BELIEF

  Full name: Michael Scott Kasprowicz

  Nickname: Kasper

  Birthdate: 10 February 1972

  Birthplace: South Brisbane, Queensland

  Major teams: Australia, Queensland, Essex, Glamorgan, ICL World XI, Leicestershire, Mumbai Champs

  Role: Bowler

  Batting style: Right-hand bat

  Bowling style: Right-arm fast-medium

  TESTS: 38

  Test debut: Australia v West Indies at Brisbane, 22–26 November

  1996

  Last Test: South Africa v Australia at Johannesburg, 31 March –

  4 April 2006

  Test wickets: 113

  Best bowling in an innings: 7–36

  Best bowling in a match: 8–92

  Five wickets in an innings: 4

  Average: 32.88

  Strike rate: 63.1

  Economy rate: 3.12

  Catches: 16

  Test runs: 445

  ONE-DAY INTERNATIONALS: 43

  Wickets: 67

  Best bowling: 5–45

  Five wickets in an innings: 2

  Average: 24.98

  Strike rate: 33.2

  Economy rate: 4.51

  Catches: 13

  ODI runs: 74

  Michael Kasprowicz never left anything on the field, including the time in 1998 when, due to injuries, he was forced to carry the brunt of the Australian pace attack’s workload during the tour of India. He lost eight kilos—one for each wicket he took—as a result of battling fatigue, heat exhaustion and, of course, the home team’s quality batsmen. He remembered the job of having to go out day after day and bowl in 40–50 degree heat, on grounds that were like deserts, as the most challenging thing he ever did as a cricketer. I wasn’t on that tour but I knew he bowled throughout that series with his trademark purpose and commitment, and that rather than look for shade to sit and cool his heels he was always up for one more over. He became known as a subcontinent expert because the conditions favoured his reverse swing, but Kasper described himself as the ‘fashionable bowler for the unfashionable tours’. That was his call; I saw him as a quality bowler with enormous stamina, a quality I think he gained from the training he undertook to make the Australian Schoolboys rugby union team. He repeated his lion-hearted effort of 1998 during the 2004 tour of Sri Lanka, when I wasn’t available, and finished with 12 hard-earned wickets at an average of 25.16.

  Kasprowicz made his first-class debut for Queensland against Western Australia when he was just 17 years of age. While he should have been preparing for another school year he was locking horns with the likes of Graeme Wood, Tom Moody, Mike Veletta, Tim Zoehrer and Tom Hogan—and what an education! It was the first step of an incredible journey because over the following 19 seasons he broke plenty of domestic records—he retired the second-highest taker of first-class wickets in Queensland with 501 scalps—while each of his 38 appearances in the baggy green cap allowed young bowlers to appreciate that the currency of their art is blood, sweat and tears. One of Kasper’s most memorable efforts was his 59-run partnership with Brett Lee during the 2005 Ashes series at Edgbaston. He was dismissed three runs short of victory, after scoring what I thought was an impressive 20 runs under intense pressure, when he gloved a contentious catch to their wicketkeeper Geraint Jones off Steve Harmison.

  Like his good mate Bic, Kasper was an unselfish player; he was all for his team and his teammates and that approach made him valuable. However, I have to admit I hated it when I had to glove to the big Queenslander during fielding drills. Kasper pegged the ball back at you so hard I always thought one of his missiles would put a hole in my hand. In terms of his unselfishness, I thought it said a lot about his character that when he called stumps at the ripe old age of 36—and after battling a string of injuries—he hung up his maroon cap because he thought it was time to give a younger bloke his chance.

  15

  SPORT INSPIRES

  Champions aren’t made in gyms. Champions are made from something they have deep inside them—a desire, a dream and a vision.

  —Muhammad Ali

  Long before Nelson Mandela became South Africa’s first black president, I understand he was an amateur boxer who ran two hours’ roadwork every day and then trained like hell by throwing leather in the gym. During his 27-year imprisonment, he followed a strict training regimen. I think it says a lot about the power of sport—and athletes—that when Mandela became a politician upon gaining his freedom in 1990, he viewed sport as a unifying force at a time when his nation was finding its feet and apartheid was being dismantled. Mandela realised sport would have a more positive impact on his people than protests, petitions and peace talks. One year after Mandela became president, his nation hosted the 1995
Rugby World Cup. When the Springboks—whose green jersey was perceived back then by black South Africans as a symbol of apartheid—played New Zealand in the final, he convinced the nation to pull together by making a point of wearing a Springboks jumper. South Africa won the World Cup 15–12 and as he watched people of mixed race celebrate as one, President Mandela revealed the reasons why he believed sport could be a catalyst for good. He said: ‘Sport has the power to change the world. It has the power to inspire. It has the power to unite people in a way that little else does. It speaks to youth in a language they understand. Sport can create hope where once there was only despair. It is more powerful than government in breaking down racial barriers.’

  I believe there are some athletes who inspire others by striving to be better people. The world heavyweight champion Muhammad Ali is definitely inspiring in this way. Ali was a showman, he was charismatic, he was a humanitarian, an activist and, from what I’ve gathered from reading a little bit about him, he is a man of principle. I like the story about him attended a graduation ceremony at Harvard University in the 1970s and someone in the crowd yelled ‘Give us a poem’, and Ali responded by saying ‘Me, we’. Apart from being described as the shortest poem in the English language, many people have interpreted it as a great summary of the collective human condition—that we are all in ‘it’ together.

  There has been a host of other great athletes who have inspired the world, including the German long-jumper Carl ‘Luz’ Long, who is remembered for his actions during the qualification round for his event at the 1936 Berlin Olympics. Long defied Hitler’s ideology of the supremacy of the Aryan race by helping Jesse Owens when it appeared as though this descendent of slaves from Alabama was in danger of disqualification after several fouls. As Owens sat on the track in obvious despair, Long advised him to jump a few centimetres before the take-off board to have a better chance of making the final. His advice proved to be so good it actually relegated him to the silver medal, because Owens won the gold. However, in full view of Hitler, Long overcame any disappointment he may have felt to congratulate Owens. In later years when he reflected on that victory, the man regarded as one of the world’s greatest athletes said of that moment: ‘You can melt down all the medals and cups I have and they wouldn’t be a plating on the 24-carat friendship I felt for Luz Long at that moment.’

  Long and Owens remained friendly after the Games and when the German fought in World War II he sent his friend in America a letter with a request should he die in battle: ‘When the war is over, please go to Germany, find my son and tell him about his father. Tell him about the times when war did not separate us and tell him that things can be different between men in this world. Your brother, Luz.’ The Olympian died of his wounds during the battle of Sicily and Owens sought out his son after the war and spoke of a friendship that was forged in the most incredible of circumstances.

  It’s great to see someone compete at the top of their game, because they prove there are no boundaries to what can be achieved and I think they inspire other people to better themselves. I was in England playing County cricket when Cathy Freeman won her gold medal for the 400-metre event at the Sydney Olympics. I consider her effort to rise above the immense pressure she was under to win as one of the best. I also couldn’t help but be impressed by the will to win that the swimmers Ian Thorpe and Michael Phelps displayed every time they dived into the pool. And I’ll never forget the thrill I felt when my skipper Steve Waugh, at a time when he was under massive pressure to hold his place in the Australian Test team, hit Richard Dawson’s last ball of the day for four to rack up his record-equalling Test hundred at the SCG in the 2002–03 Ashes series. I remember Pat Rafter showing that winning isn’t everything when he displayed great grace after losing a Wimbledon final, and I was in awe of Anna Meares coming back from having suffered a broken neck in 2008 to win gold at the London Olympics, because she must have overcome so many dark thoughts to get back on the velodrome.

  Despite the amazing achievements of these athletes, there are three (outside of cricket) who have made a lasting impression on me in the way they have performed. They are Roger Federer, Steve Redgrave and Usain Bolt. Each is different in so many ways but they are blessed with the right stuff to be acknowledged as champions. I would love to have been able to apply aspects of the greatness I see in them to my own game, because, in my opinion, they are inspirations. I’ve detailed below what excites me about them.

  ROGER FEDERER, TENNIS

  I enjoyed the position I was in as a tennis player. I was to blame when I lost. I was to blame when I won. And I really like that, because I played soccer a lot too, and I couldn’t stand it when I had to blame it on the goalkeeper.

  —ROGER FEDERER

  Born: 8 August 1981, Basel, Switzerland

  Titles: 17 Grand Slam titles

  One Olympic gold medal—doubles (2008)

  One Olympic silver medal—singles (2012)

  Swiss Davis Cup team (2014 champions)

  I view Roger Federer as sport’s consummate professional athlete. He is a quality player whose reputation is enhanced by playing the game with what I’ve long considered to be a sense of nobility. He refuses to allow anything to faze him while he is on the court, whether it is a poor call by the umpire, a bad shot, an opponent who may have tried to put him off his own game by throwing a tantrum, or even the disappointment of perhaps not living up to his own expectations. That was what I strove for, I wanted to perform day in, day out. I like the idea that Federer proves it’s possible to be in control for the entire game—I tried to live by that creed throughout my career, but there were times when I failed to do so. I just wanted to go about my business, and while I did to a degree, I wasn’t perfect and I couldn’t quite achieve that level of control Federer has attained. It amazes me that he makes the mental side of tennis, a game where it’s not uncommon for some players to have brain explosions and meltdowns, look so easy. I doubt whether anyone could be critical of the ‘Fed Express’, because of the way he has conducted himself over the years. I’ve long believed that particular trait is what sets him apart from all other athletes—he’s second to none for calmness.

  I can relate to the fact that Federer’s success didn’t come easily. I’ve read about him going through some tough times before breaking through for his first final, the Marseille Open in 2000, a match he lost. I can only imagine before that moment his defeats and disappointments must have challenged his belief that he had a future in the cutthroat world of the Association of Tennis Professionals. I went through my own trials and tribulations as a young cricketer, and I appreciate that rather than feeling sorry for himself he trained harder, he practised smarter and enjoyed small victories along the way, such as qualifying for that first final in 2000, even though he lost to fellow countryman Marc Rosset. From 2002–12—the year he celebrated his 300th week as the world’s No. 1—he was the world’s most dominant tennis player. I appreciated that while other players seemed crippled by nerves on the big stage, he thrived when the spotlight was on him.

  I met Federer when we took a break during the 2005 Ashes campaign to attend the Wimbledon final. He was coached by fellow Australian Tony Roche, and just before his win over Andy Roddick, Adam Gilchrist and I were invited to visit him in the dressing room. We found ourselves in the surreal situation of talking to him for 20 or so minutes before he went out to contest one of the most famous events in world sport. His mother is South African and he knew a bit about cricket. We talked about a few things as he loosened up and prepared, and his calmness made a huge impact on me. He was relaxed, happy and friendly and keen to engage in a conversation. We wished him well and as we returned to our seats he walked out to centre court to wipe Roddick all over the lawn. That brief brush with Roger Federer gave me a tremendous insight into how he could switch on when it mattered most. I played a bit on the NSW country tennis circuit when I was young and I have a distant relative named Vivian McGrath who was considered the original wonder boy of
Australian tennis. He was famous for his two-handed backhand, which was a revolutionary stroke back in the day, but I’ve also read that he could have been considered a great had he trained harder. I’d like to say Roger listened to my advice and took my tips, but I think he always had it in control. While I’m no expert, I have noticed how Federer’s head remains statue-still after he hits the ball. That interests me because when I watched a batsman who was in full cry, I always considered that poise, that stillness, as a sign of the calmness inside his mind; it exerted what I saw as a graceful control of the body and soul.

  The statistics note that Roger Federer has held the world No. 1 ranking for 302 weeks; in an all-time record, he has reached each Grand Slam final on at least five occasions; he’s qualified for the Wimbledon final on ten occasions and won seven. Federer’s name sits alongside Fred Perry (Great Britain 1933–35); Don Budge (United States 1937–38); Rod Laver (Australia 1960–62); Roy Emerson (Australia 1961–64); Andre Agassi (United States 1992–99) and Rafael Nadal (Spain 2005–10) as one of only seven men to have won a career Grand Slam. His full list of achievements could fill the next 20 pages but I think his mastering the mind game day in, day out is a far greater feat than all the trophies he’s won. There’s been a lot said and written about Federer over the years and one of the comments I believe resonates most was offered by the American player James Blake when, after being asked to nominate the world’s top tennis player, he said: ‘If you poll the top 500 tennis guys in the world, about 499 are going to say Roger. The only one who won’t is Roger himself because he’s too nice about it.’

  I believe that view says a lot about the spirit of the athlete.

  STEVE REDGRAVE, ROWING

  Self-belief is probably the most crucial factor in sporting success. The bodies are roughly equal, the training is similar, the techniques can be copied, what separates the achievers is nothing as tangible as split times or kilograms. It is the iron in the mind, not in supplements, that wins medals.