40
Following the World Cup triumph and 17 years after McGrath had left Narromine in such a mad rush he didn’t even think to take a last look over his shoulder, he made a pilgrimage to the place he still referred to as ‘home’: Lagoona. But as he surveyed the landscape of his youth he felt disappointed. Drought had ravaged the countryside – but the deep cracks in the barren paddocks were more familiar to him than the old homestead. The new owners had made too many changes to the exterior for it to feel like his family’s spiritual home any more. For quite a while he’d entertained the idea of buying the property back, but now the illusion that it was still his home had been shattered. All McGrath noticed was change – and it stung.
‘I had this plan to get it back into the family’s hands and pass it on to the kids,’ he says, ‘but it had changed too much for that. It was no longer the place I knew. It was great to return “home” after the World Cup and to take a look around because I really needed to do that, but I was also sad to see how much it had changed from how I remembered it.’
McGrath took a last look at Lagoona and then hit the highway to return ... home – to Jane and the children back in Sydney. As the countryside rolled by in a blur he thought about the path his life had followed since he’d left the far west to live in a cramped caravan by the shores of Botany Bay.
‘I’d never really sat back and thought about what I’d achieved since that day I left Narromine; I just enjoyed living the journey. If someone had have asked me when I was a kid to describe how I’d want my life to turn out, I couldn’t have wished for it to have been any better. I’ve been lucky. You learn what life is about from what you do. Not long after the World Cup it seemed incredible to think I’d played cricket at the top level for so long. Though as I stood looking at Lagoona, I wondered what would I have done if I didn’t play cricket. I once thought there was no way I could’ve been a farmer like Dad and Dale, but it struck me that maybe I could’ve done it. I miss the land a lot more now than when I was 19. I guess I was ready for change all those years ago, but it feels so good to return to the country these days, to return to the fresh air and the openness. It just feels right.’
McGrath, however, didn’t dwell on the prophets of doom who told their junior bank teller he was only setting himself up to get knocked down by accepting Steve Rixon’s offer to play grade for Sutherland. Instead he returned to their town hailed as a great of modern cricket. But McGrath didn’t gloat or puff out his chest, because he saw himself as just another Narromine boy – even when his two nephews joined a queue for him to sign his autograph at a presentation night west of the Black Stump.
McGrath was chuffed, however, to learn the shire’s civic fathers had proposed to erect a life-size statue of him in the town’s centre. Apart from paying homage to their favourite son’s many achievements, they thought it might also lure tourist dollars into the area. News of the bronze statue was greeted with a sense of pride by his family, but they couldn’t help but laugh at the idea that pigeons would one day poop on the Pigeon.
There were other accolades on McGrath’s retirement. In January 2008 he and Jane were appointed Members of the Order of Australia in the Australia Day honours. McGrath was recognised for his contribution to cricket and the McGrath Foundation; Jane was lauded for her outstanding services to community health.
‘That was a huge honour and totally unexpected,’ says McGrath. ‘I was so proud and privileged to have been a member of the Australian cricket team, but the Order of Australia medal topped everything because of what it signified. The Foundation was the result of a lot of hard work by Jane because she wanted to make a difference for women who found themselves in the situation she did. It was courageous and it was compassionate. Jane and I are really proud of the Foundation and of the good it is achieving. It also pleases us no end that so many good people have jumped on board to support us because they also believe in it. It is meaningful. I think all the good things the Foundation represents – helping people, offering hope and support – mirror all the beautiful things I see in Jane.’
Sutherland Council, at the behest of McGrath’s old cricket club, renamed Caringbah Oval after him in February 2008. The announcement was made at an emotion-charged testimonial dinner organised by the Sutherland Sharks to celebrate McGrath’s career. Shane Warne was the special guest, Alan Jones (the king of breakfast radio in Sydney) was MC, and the function was attended by McGrath’s family and friends. Perhaps it was even more special because the room was crammed with the ‘Sutho’ gang that had adopted him when he arrived from the bush.
‘When Steve Rixon turned up to my door and told me about the club’s intention to rename the oval, I was stunned. The first thing to come to my mind was: “You can’t do that – it’s Caringbah Oval!” It’s an iconic sporting oval in the Shire and I’m honoured it has my name, especially when I think of the great cricketers who’ve come out of Sutherland and played for Australia.’
There were also rumblings from Cricket NSW that McGrath would be considered for life membership despite having played fewer than 30 first-class games for his state due to his heavy commitments to the Australian team. CEO Dave Gilbert acknowledges that McGrath’s situation was one the board and its members needed to wrestle with sooner rather than later.
‘How can you say no to life membership for Glenn McGrath?’ says Gilbert. ‘His attitude for NSW was the same as when he played for Australia – he never shirked his duty. If anything, he might’ve been guilty of trying too hard, because when he’d return for NSW he wanted to be as dominant for the state as he was for Australia. There’ll be many others who’ll also only play a limited number of games for NSW because of national commitments. Brett Lee will take in excess of 300 Test wickets and Michael Clarke seems certain to score 8000 Test runs, but they won’t represent the state too often. It is something we as an organisation must address.’
While NSW coach Matthew Mott declared he wanted to recruit McGrath as the state’s bowling coach at the beginning of the 2007/08 season and there were suggestions he might become a mentor for Cricket Australia’s young guns, McGrath kept true to his promise to stay clear of cricket for a full year. His life was still busy. Warren Craig filled his diary with corporate engagements; he worked tirelessly for the McGrath Foundation; he did all he could to catch up on all the lost time with his young family; and he found his body enjoyed an end to the grind of solid training.
‘I wanted a whole year away from cricket so I could spend time with the family. I still worked, but it was so good to see James play cricket, practise his bowling or go to the beach for nippers, and do the Dad things. I love being with Holly – she is such a Daddy’s girl and has me wrapped around her little finger ... and I think she knows it. It was also great to spend time with Jane. Now that I’ve retired, I’ve become known as Jane McGrath’s husband rather than Glenn McGrath the cricketer, and I couldn’t be happier.
‘I don’t miss playing. I first realised that a few weeks after I returned home from the World Cup and I watched the West Indies–England Test series on television. I did not miss cricket at all. I know that will surprise a lot of people, but I am happy with what I achieved and how I retired. I have no desire now to be out there.’
While Jane describes her husband as a loving and devoted family man, she admits his transition from professional cricketer to full-time father wasn’t as smooth as McGrath may have hoped.
‘It is great to have Glenn around – we really love it,’ she enthuses. ‘But it was interesting when he wanted to do some things his way. From the kids’ point of view, it was a case of, “But we do it this way, Dad.” We did things on our own when Glenn was away so, rightly or wrongly, we set our own routines. The kids are mad about Glenn – they love him – but it was a shock to their systems when he wanted to do things differently. That took some getting used to for Glenn and the kids.’
McGrath’s old team-mates, Steve Waugh and Ricky Ponting included, aren’t surprised to hear he quickly became Jane’s third child, and was often chided for annoying the children.
‘They’d better get used to their father tapping them on the shoulder and looking away when they turn around,’ laughs Ponting. ‘I reckon he did that a dozen times a day to his team-mates; it’ll be hard for him to stop – he’ll need to do it to someone.’
McGrath was given his chance to annoy a new group of team-mates when he signed a three-year deal with the Delhi Daredevils in the Indian Premier League (IPL). The Twenty20 competition was created by the Board of Control for Cricket in India to capitalise on that nation’s insatiable appetite for the modified game. The format is known for its fast-paced, big-hitting excitement – accompanied by rock and roll soundtracks – and the fanatical support it receives translates to Pay TV revenue, big takings at the gates and sponsorship opportunities.
McGrath and Warne were both signed to lucrative deals and, like the rest of the cricketing world, they watched in amazement as the media revealed the amounts of money the competition was generating. The ten-year television rights were sold for US$1 billion and Indian businessmen paid kings’ ransoms to buy into the eight franchises. Mumbai, for instance, was snapped up for US$127.27 million. The players were told they could expect to snare hundreds of thousands of dollars through a variety of endorsements and would enjoy top-ups via their franchises. While McGrath has embraced the excitement and hype of the Twenty20 format, he is concerned about the impact it could have on other forms of the game.
‘People ask if Twenty20 is the future,’ he says. ‘It probably is, but we have to wait and see whether it has a positive or negative impact on cricket. It will definitely affect one-day cricket, but it’ll be very disappointing if it interferes with Test cricket. I find it sad to think a lot of New Zealanders, including Shane Bond, won’t be allowed to play for their country any more because they aligned themselves to the Indian Cricket League [a rebel Twenty20 competition]. It’s detrimental to the international game, but when a player can earn much more money in six weeks than they could in 12 months, well, you can understand why they want to join up.’
McGrath received a taste of Twenty20 on 8 January 2008 when he played in a match for NSW against Queensland at the Olympic Stadium. Cricket NSW billed it as both a fundraiser for the McGrath Foundation and an opportunity for SpeedBlitz Blues fans to wish their hero well in retirement. Over 23,000 fans cheered as he was run out for a duck, but rather than storm off the field, McGrath raised his bat in mock triumph and laughed along with the crowd. He was still incredible with the ball in hand despite his months of inactivity. His nagging line and length dismissed Bulls skipper Jimmy Maher cheaply, and his four overs yielded a miserly 11 runs.
Bev, who watched the action from a private box in the grandstand, noted the significance of a ‘Steve Smith’ playing in the match. The teenager from Sutherland was named Man of the Match after taking 4 for 15 with his leg spin bowling, but seeing his name on the scoreboard took Bev back to that day–night game when Doug Walters had identified her elder son as a rare talent.
‘It’s funny to think there was a Steve Smith in Glenn’s last match, considering Steve Smith [the Test player] played in the Country Cup game at Parkes all those years ago,’ she says. ‘I can’t believe the time has gone so quickly.’
Despite taming the Queensland batsmen with his tight line and length, McGrath describes the hurly-burly pace of the game as a real ‘eye-opener’.
‘Playing against Queensland was a bit of a reality check,’ he says. ‘I realised I wouldn’t want to play in a game where I’d need to bowl any more than four overs at the one time. I had no desire to be out there playing Tests or one-dayers, but Twenty20 would give me a cricket fix. I knew I’d still be competitive.’
In the IPL, McGrath was one of the standout bowlers. In a competition that brought in American cheerleaders to add even more pizazz to the atmosphere, he demonstrated that he’d lost none of his trademark accuracy despite his year away from the fray. No-one, though, was more surprised at how he dominated a game that was tailor-made for big-hitting batsmen than McGrath himself.
‘I was surprised by how quickly I got back into stride,’ he says. ‘I hadn’t bowled a ball since the match against Queensland a few months earlier, so my form was a pleasant surprise. I found playing in the IPL a great experience, but it confirmed why I retired ... I was so keen to get home to Jane and the kids.’
McGrath’s form didn’t escape scrutiny in England. He was offered a lucrative deal to ‘guest’ for three weeks in county cricket, but he had no interest. He’d had enough.
A few days after being warned by Ponting that he was staying in a house close enough to the McGraths’ place for Ponting to hit golf balls into their yard, McGrath was surprised to find a couple of balls among the ferns in his garden. He didn’t know whether to laugh or get square – though he did think to call his old skipper a ‘cheeky little bastard’. He put the balls in his pocket and considered returning them via his driver.
McGrath sat out the back of his waterfront home on sparkling Port Hacking. The sun was deep in its descent over the horizon, its long rays streaked across the sky, lighting it with colours which looked to the retired cricketer as they’d done since he was a boy – like smears of drizzled honey, burnt orange, molten gold and bronze. He was 38 years old, a father of two, a devoted husband and a proud son of the bush. Of the many things he’d learned throughout his life, one of his earliest lessons rang true at this moment: that nature’s wonders – sunsets, sunrises, lightning storms – are nutritious for the soul. Twenty years earlier, after slaving in the paddocks as a boy doing a man’s job in his father’s absence, he had turned his back on such a sight to finish his last chore of the night – bowling at a 44-gallon drum to prepare for the day he’d play for Australia.
McGrath had spent the day with Jane. He’d fished off the jetty with James and entered Holly’s fantasy world of palaces, ponies and princesses. After devoting most of his youth to making it in cricket, McGrath put his feet up at last.
The boy who couldn’t bowl was happy.