Ray Lindwall was arguably the greatest of all fast bowlers. At once graceful and menacing, Lindwall was able to send down an over of six very different balls with perfect disguise. This frightening ability derived from an exemplary action with a run-up so smooth that he gave the impression of being pulled on wheels by a wire. Rhythmically gathering pace into his leaping delivery stride, and with a classic sideways action, Lindwall in full flow made for a thrilling spectacle. When he bowled the first ball in a Test match anywhere in the world, the tension around the ground was electric as the batsman attempted to anticipate the outswinger, the inswinger, the bumper, the savage break-back, the slower ball, the even-faster-than-usual ball or one of his various cutters.
He took exactly half his Test wickets for Australia against England, and it was in this country that his skill bloomed most fully. Lindwall relished the damper atmosphere of Britain which gave the ball more chance to swing. This was particularly evident in 1948, when, in concert with Keith Miller, he produced some devastating performances. Despite his gentlemanly attitude, Lindwall landed six Englishmen in hospital during the course of that summer. His bumper was a fearsome weapon but sparingly used; forty-three of his eighty-six victims on that tour were clean bowled. He was, said Alec Bedser, a fast bowler with a medium-pacer’s precise control. Lindwall took 228 Test wickets in sixty-one matches, at 23 runs apiece; only four Australians, Lillee, Benaud, McKenzie and McDermott, have taken more Test wickets, all of them at an inferior average.
Ray Lindwall was a modest man who once said: ‘If you believe only half of what you read about me, I must have been a miraculous player, and I wasn’t.’ He could be somewhat bluff – as on the occasion during the 1948 tour, when Len Hutton asked Keith Miller to introduce him to Lindwall. Hutton had batted against him often but surprisingly they had never met off the pitch. Miller assured Hutton that Lindwall thought the world of him and encouraged the Yorkshireman to go over and talk to Lindwall, who was nearby. Hutton departed but returned moments later, looking downcast. Asked what had happened, Hutton reported: ‘He said he was sick of the sight of me when I was batting against him and told me to bugger off.’ ‘Told you he admired you,’ said Miller.
Raymond Russell Lindwall: b Mascot, New South Wales, 3 October 1921; d 23 June 1996