– 10 – POSTSCRIPT
The final contributions are from Richie’s sons Greg (born in 1955) and Jeff (born in 1958). Jeff has written the book’s postscript. Greg remembers a father who became an inspiration …
GREGORY RICHARD BENAUD
HE WAS A GENTLE, loving father to me and my brother. He firmly but gently applied discipline to us when we were children. He was successful at his job as a journalist and after that as a commentator.
In his day, he was the world’s foremost cricketer and the world’s best leg-spin bowler — captain of the Australian XI and the NSW XI, and the first player from any country to take 200 wickets and score 2000 runs in Test cricket ...
The words above were part of a ‘best wishes’ that I wrote to say on a ‘Richie Benaud … This is Your Life’ TV show in 1975. Due to circumstances, I was unable to deliver my message at the time.
I’m fortunate now to be able to convey some of the respect and love I have for Dad. To say thank you for the kindness and love shown to me by Dad and by Daph, both now and over many decades.
When I last spoke to Dad, he said, ‘We’ve been privileged to know each other the way we have.’
I’ve often thought the privilege has been all mine.
Dad, may you continue to inspire us, and also young cricketers and everyday Australians.
THE RICH TAPESTRY OF LIFE
‘IT’S JUST PART OF the rich tapestry of life, son.’
That is a phrase I will always associate with Dad. Said with a slow, dry, slightly sardonic delivery.
It was a phrase I did not hear very often. That’s because it usually referred to some person or event that wasn’t at the absolute apex of his list of favourites.
It wasn’t a complaint, really — because my father very rarely complained about anything. It was just an observation about another of the many challenges that life throws at all of us. Some large, some small.
The rich tapestry of life.
It’s not a bad way to describe Dad’s life.
There were certainly some very varied threads that formed the tapestry of his life. The thread of his Australian bush upbringing with a pioneer family. A Gallic shrug of the shoulders in adversity. The thread of a raw core of talent. But also understanding that talent alone is not enough. The thread of the unique professional in his work: he knew when to speak … and when to let the game speak for itself.
There are some other threads in his tapestry of life. There was the thread of being a good and gentle person that went to the very core of his being.
He was a strong person, very determined and not easily dissuaded from his objective. But it was strength that came without any threat of violence. His strength was strength of character. And what a rare and invincible Excalibur that gentle strength of character always proved to be against some mighty opposition.
Hard work was another thread. Not mindless slog for no purpose, but a determination to do what was required to meet the deadline, to be professional, not to let people down, to maintain standards and improve them, and to add something positive wherever he could. Dad wanted to win — but there was no honour in winning if it was achieved outside the rules and without good sportsmanship.
Dad could take some considerable time to make a decision, weighing up all the pros and cons and balancing all the options. He could not be pressured or rushed into anything — only good sense and fair play had a chance of success. He could not be forced into the mould — only reasoned into it. But once the decision was made, it was almost always final.
Another thread was a sensitive radar for hypocrisy.
At times my father was labelled a ‘rebel’, especially around the time of World Series Cricket. But the term ‘rebel’ was a misnomer. A rebel sounds like someone who is against anything and everything, including the traditional establishment. That wasn’t Dad.
What he was against was injustice. The injustice of a fair day’s work without a fair day’s pay. It was the injustice that motivated him to do whatever he could to right such a situation. World Series Cricket allowed him to do it in an ideal way. No one was happier than Dad when that injustice was righted and the cricket world was reunited.
And there was another thread in Dad’s life — the single golden thread around which his life was woven.
That thread was his genuine, gentle, enduring and consistent love for Daphne. Having Daphne as a partner in business, in laughter and in life was the defining thread. Daph made him happy. She gave him the chance to be all that he could be. Of all those many times he was asked to name his ‘greatest team in history’, I know the one team he always wanted to be in was his team with Daphne. They were the best team going.
My father has now lived his wonderful life. His time with us has passed, but his legacy lives on.
His legacy lives on in the game he loved and made better and stronger. And his legacy lives on in all of us who knew him, as a husband, son, brother, friend and colleague, or simply as the voice that reminded us it was summer. We remember him as a valued part of our life — a part of our life that is worth remembering with affection.
And when I remember him it is my very first memory that I treasure most …
I’m a three-year-old being tossed high into the air.
I’m soaring higher, higher,
Up to touch the bright, clear, clean sun.
I’m flying up, up, like I’ll never come down.
Laughing with a pure innocent joy.
Soaring.
Then falling, plummeting, sure to smash hard on the ground.
But strong hands and arms catch me and I can see Dad’s laughing face,
his jet black hair, tanned skin, flashing white teeth.
‘I’ve got you, son.’
Then launched sunwards again. Squealing with delight, arms
outstretched like a bird. Then down to the safety of Dad.
Again and again. Never missing. Always there. Never letting us down.
Ever.