Battered, Broken and Bodied: England Tour of Oz, 1974/5

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Transcript

Through late November and early December 1974, England’s cricketers found themselves in Queensland, a state apparently pickled in one continuous sub-tropical downpour after another. 

Their one-dayer against a Queensland Country X1 was abandoned without a ball being bowled and, by the time they arrived in Brisbane for their match against Greg Chappell’s Queensland ahead of the first Test, there were fears of an under-prepared pitch because of the weather.

England had other concerns. Queensland possessed a fearsome weapon. It wasn’t secret, because this weapon had already played once for Australia, but it was of slightly unknown quality nonetheless. As such, it was one of those things that shark about in the back of your head and keep your dreams nice and jittery. 

The weapon – a fast-bowling weapon, by the way – had a name. Jeff Thomson. Put Thomson and a green or under-prepared pitch together and you’d have more than simply a problem – you’d have broken bones and bruises and concussion. 

You might even have hospitalisation. You’d most certainly have frayed nerves and shredded resolve. If you were England, it didn’t help that Geoff Boycott, your best batsman against sheer pace, had chosen to remain at home for reasons to which this day remain mysterious.

If England were privately concerned, Greg Chappell, the Queensland skipper, had a more delicate problem. Thomson was likely to play for Australia directly after Queensland’s match against England at the same venue, the famous Woolloongabba, and Chappell didn’t want to over-expose him. 

He solved the matter in time-honoured fashion: Thomson only bowled ten overs in each England innings of the Queensland match. Wisden mused later that he was told to hold himself back.

Thomson’s limited (and unimpressive) showing for Queensland was of no matter – he was chosen for Australia in the first Test. Of more concern to all concerned was the way in which the rain had played havoc with the preparation of the ‘Gabba pitch. 

Ten days before the start of the first Test, Alderman Clem Jones, the Lord Mayor of Brisbane and former member of the Australian Cricket Board, had dismissed the curator, or groundsman, a certain Mr. Jones. Never let it be said that micro-management wasn’t flourishing in Queensland in late 1974.

Two nights before the first Test was about to begin, parts of the ground were flooded. Alderman Clem was now up shit creek without a paddle. He donned his safety helmet and boarded the heavy roller, trying to flatten a pitch that had been reduced to mud. 

As journalist Michael Melford put it archly in The Daily Telegraph, “civic duties and curatorship do not easily blend”. The voice of cricket in Australia, Richie Benaud, voiced his concerns too.

Despite pitch worries and the role of Alderman Jones, when Greg Chappell’s brother, Ian, won the toss in the first Test, he decided to bat. He scored 90 and Australia posted just over 300. The 1974/5 Ashes – held by England – were underway, despite fears to the contrary.

Thomson had taken two wickets for Queensland in England’s warm-up match against them. Both wickets were of the same batsman – England’s opener, Dennis Amiss. Greg Chappell might have held Thomson back in the Queensland match but Amiss himself, a perfectionist and wily campaigner, had seen enough of Thomson’s sling-shot pace to know what to expect. 

Thomson not only got Amiss again in the England first innings of the first Test but broke his thumb for good measure. England stumbled groggily to 57 for four and, although Tony Greig scored a cheeky counter-attacking century, combining skill, bravado and irrepressible Greig-like showmanship, England found themselves 50-odd behind on the first innings.

Thomson – or “Thommo” as he was called – took three for 59 in 21 overs. A precursor of Sri Lanka’s Lasith Malinga, with a similar action, Thomson’s unorthodoxy was terrifying because he was a far stronger man and, at point of delivery, his bowling arm was higher than Malinga’s. 

Thompson ran at no more than an amble to the crease and, shortly before he reached it, almost seemed to change the position of his leading feet in screwing his body round into a sling-shot action, left arm pointing skywards, left leg pointing at the batsman.

Many of those facing him said that his corkscrew motion or the torsion into which he curled himself made it almost impossible to get a pre-sighter or early sighter of the ball. Suddenly it was upon you, either rising perilously off a length, or sizzling towards your toecaps as though they were magnetic.

The fact that Thommo bowled 13 no-balls and three wides in England’s two innings was no consolation. It actually made life more difficult for the English batsmen because you never knew what quite to expect. 

When Thommo’s deliveries arrived, they zeroed in with the precision of an arrow splitting an apple; sometimes the thunderbolt zig-zagged down the leg side, or you heard the umpire shout “no-ball” as you defended for all you were worth. The only element in the Thommo armory upon which you could rely was his consistent inconsistency. And that didn’t help at all.  

With a fifty-odd run first innings lead, Australia posted 288 for five declared in their second. Fifties to Greg Chappell and Ross Edwards meant England needed 333 batting last to win the Test. 

Time was lost on the fourth day, according to Wisden, because the motorized roller had temporarily broken down – clearly Alderman Hill couldn’t be everywhere – and England finished the day with ten wickets in hand. 

A win for them was unlikely but it wasn’t improbable. If they could tame Thommo, they might just hold out for a draw. After all the concerns about the pitch – most wickets so far had fallen from the southern end – the weather and what the Lord Alderman of Brisbane was going to pull out of his hat, a draw wouldn’t have been the worst result. 

It was a six Test series, so it was prudent to pace yourself – as it were. Six Tests translated into an awful lot of Thomson deliveries to face if he remained injury free.

Although England started doggedly enough on the fifth morning, it wasn’t to be. Thommo got Amiss, batting with his broken thumb, for the fourth time in four innings, and sliced through the tourists’ batting to record six for 46. 

He took nine wickets in the match and was nigh-unplayable at times. Former Australian captain, Lindsay Hassett, said that some of Thommo’s bowling at Brisbane was the fastest he had ever seen, and Hassett had captained the fastest of fast-bowlers, Keith Miller and Ray Lindwall.

These, remember, were helmetless days. Batsmen batted in caps. Arm guards and chest protectors were unheard-of. You had a bat in your hands and umpires to protect you under the impressive reach of Law 46 if the bowling became too intimidatory and matters got out of hand.

Thomson’s Brisbane demolition of England was deeply impressive, but his debut Test against Pakistan at the Melbourne Cricket Ground didn’t go off with quite the same bang. In the New Year’s Test across 1972 and into the first days of 1973, Thommo had bowled less than 20 overs and had over a hundred runs hit off of him. 

It later emerged that he’d played against Pakistan with a broken bone in his left foot because, although he knew he was crocked, he feared he might never get another opportunity to play for his country. For two seasons it seemed he was right. 

He lost his place in the Australian Test side, moving from his native Queensland to New South Wales. The move south didn’t pay immediate dividends because he lost his New South Wales place too. 

By the time the first Test of the England series came round he’d been bitten by the fates. He’d learned his lesson and was ready to roar. And roar he did.

He was still roaring like the Lion of Queensland come Test two, played at Perth in the middle of December. England walked wounded to Perth. John Edrich, suffered a broken hand as a result of a Thommo delivery in Brisbane and didn’t play there. Neither did Amiss, with his broken thumb. 

Peter Lever, he of the longest run up, cried off with back trouble, and Mike Hendrick, the medium-fast bowler, couldn’t play in the second Test because of a throat infection.

Ian Chappell won the toss and, unusually, asked the opposition to bat on what was widely regarded as the quickest pitch in Australia. Thomson wrought his havoc early, hitting opener Brian Luckhurst on the left hand. 

Luckhurst wasn’t so badly hurt that he couldn’t continue, but the injury swelled over-night. When it came for his next turn to bat, he was shoveled into action batting at number seven. England were becoming a rabble. Next someone would hobble to the crease on crutches or pad gingerly to the middle with the help of a walking stick.

All the same, Luckhurst and his new opening partner, David Lloyd – in for Amiss – put on 44 for the first wicket. Luckhurst and the 40-year-old Colin Cowdrey, flown in as a late replacement for the injured, put on 55 for the second. Cowdrey, who hadn’t played Test cricket for three-and-a-half years, was looking forward to listening to the Ashes on his radio back in Kent, but now, here he was, immaculate in his MCC pullover on a swelteringly hot Perth day. 

This was his sixth visit to Australia spanning 20-odd years. As he walked to the crease, he’s reputed to have passed Jeff. The exchange went something like this:

“Mr. Thomson, I believe. So good to meet you.”

“Piss off fatso – that’s not gonna help you.”

Ninety-nine for two unfortunately became 208 all out. Australia passed England’s total with only four wickets down, with Walters and Ross Edwards in the midst of 170-run fifth-wicket partnership, both going to hundreds. Eventually Australia scored 481 in their first dig.

With a 273-run first innings lead, Thomson, bowling as fast as the wind, took a knife to England, Cowdrey forced to open the England second innings with David Lloyd because of Luckhurst’s swollen hand. The two posted a 50-run opening stand before Lloyd was hit by Thomson in the groin. He crumpled to the turf and was escorted off, retiring before returning the following day.

Thommo, bowling to five slips and two leg-slips, took five England second innings wickets as he reached into England’s ribcage and ripped out their vital organs. England’s 293 was only just enough to get the Australians to bat again, and they wrapped it all up by nine wickets. 

Fast-bowlers, like dancers – Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers – and songwriters – John Lennon and Paul McCartney – tend to come in pairs, and Thommo was not alone in the 1974/5 Ashes. Dennis Lillee was from the other side of Australia – Western Australia, to be precise – but he and Thommo hunted together. 

If Thomson’s action looked like it had been hammered together from discarded car parts in the back garden, Lillee’s action looked like it was grooved in a wind tunnel. The two complemented each other like chili relish adds flavour to a good Chicken Prego. 

Although Lillee was the sleek aristocrat and Thommo the lippy street tough, the two were of an age and outlook. Lillee was born in July, 1949, while Thommo was born 13 months later, in August, 1950. Batsmen stood in your way they both agreed. It was your job to move them out of it, by means foul or fair.

Neither was a stranger to injuries. If Thommo had played with a broken bone in his left foot on debut against Pakistan at the MCG, Lillee’s lower-back stress fractures, sustained in the West Indies in 1973, were more crippling. They were so bad that they threatened to end his career. Lillee suffered months in a plaster cast of his lower back. 

He re-engineered his action, gaining speed and smarts as the series progressed. He didn’t take as many wickets as Thommo in the 1974/5 Ashes, he wasn’t death on a steed, but he chipped in, two here, two there, until the fifth Test. He was the perfect foil.

Australia’s opening bowlers were helped considerably by the quality of the catching behind the wicket, said by many, including commentator, Benaud, to be of the highest order. Rod Marsh was the wicket-keeper, with Ian Chappell at first slip and his brother Greg, at second. Doug Walters was often at third, while Ian Redpath was either at fourth slip or stood as a kind of second gully, the gully position having been made his own by Ashley Mallett. 

According to Wisden, the Aussies took 13 of a possible 14 catches offered in Perth. Of these Greg Chappell took seven catches, all but two of the seven being taken at second slip. England, by contrast, had a torrid time of it in Perth, Fletcher dropping catches, so, too, Geoff Arnold. 

The third Test was hosted by the Melbourne Cricket Ground (MCG) at the end of December. A record opening-day crowd of 77 165 passed through the turnstiles on Boxing Day but, finally, an evenly-contested low-scoring match, ended in a stalemate. 

When the curtain came down on the last day of 1974, Australia needed only eight runs for victory with two wickets standing. England had been strengthened by the return of Edrich and Amiss from their respective hand injuries, and Hendrick had recovered from his sore throat. 

But neither side could seize the day when the final day was there for the seizing. Some of the scribes found Australia’s reluctance to scamper for a third consecutive Test win – and, therefore, one that would have ensured she didn’t lose the series – slightly perplexing. The sides went to Sydney for the fourth Test with the Aussies 2-0 up with three to play.

The same two Australian umpires, Tom Brooks and Robin Bailhache [Bail-hash], umpired throughout the series. A breather or furlough out of the limelight was impossible. Bailhache, who was only 27, made his debut in Brisbane, so was no more than a year or two older than either Thomson or Lillee and certainly younger than Ian Chappell. 

From the opening Test on Alderman Hill’s wicket at the ‘Gabba, the two umpires had a quandary on their hands. Ian Chappell had argued that it wasn’t in his remit as Aussie skipper to discipline his fast-bowlers. If they wanted to bowl three or four bouncers in an over, that was their business. 

Chappell might have been responding to the Ashes Series four years previously, in which England’s John Snow had been liberal with his use of the short-pitched ball under Ray Illingworth. Maybe, however, the recent past had nothing to do with it. Greig bowled Lillee a couple of bouncers in Brisbane in the first Test, violating the-then unwritten law that bowlers didn’t bounce tail-enders.

Whatever the origins of Chappell’s view, he was adamant that the umpires were on their own. The post-series consensus was that they were too lenient on Lillee and Thomson. There were attempts to reel in Australian aggression in Brisbane, but the players’ bristled and pushed back. 

But back to the Sydney Cricket Ground for the fourth Test. England sacrificed a 110-run first innings lead at the SCG, with Edrich captaining the side because Denness stood down due to his poor run of form. When Australia posted nearly 300 in their second innings – with hundreds to Greg Chappell and Ian Redpath – the bullet was through the church door as the old South African saying goes.

“On the last day, the demoralising effect of Thomson and Lillee was never more apparent,” wrote Wisden. “From 68 for no wicket the score became 74 for three with Edrich on his way to hospital after being hit below the rib-cage first ball by a Lillee skidder. Though the pitch was playing true, the match was virtually decided when he came back strapped and sedated at 156 for six.”

It is all-too-easy to paint the Aussie quicks as the villains of the piece. England didn’t bat well in their second innings at Sydney, a statement which can be extended to their batting in the series as a whole. With the exception of Amiss, caught off the glove after fending at a Lillee bouncer, and Keith Fletcher, who was out two balls after a deflection hit him on the forehead after a ball from Thommo, no-one was exempt from blame. Australia won the match by 171 runs, going 3-0 up after four Tests in the six-Test series. It meant they had won back the Ashes and they were jubilant.

It emerged after the fourth Test that Lillee had broken two of Edrich’s ribs, so the gritty left-hander wasn’t available for the fifth. Denness, however, was. He’d scored 99 against New South Wales between the fourth and fifth Tests and was coming into form. He scored the only fifty of England’s first innings, England trailing Australia by over 100 runs. 

Australia posted 272 for four declared in their second dig, so England were left to score approaching 400 runs to grab their first win. In their more wildly optimistic moments, the chirpy among them – wicket-keeper Alan Knott and Greig – might have thought the nigh-impossible was possible. Thomson had injured his shoulder while playing tennis on the rest day and was hobbled.

It wasn’t to be. The pitch took spin, Derek Underwood bowling beautifully for 11 wickets in the match and the Aussies had chosen wisely, bringing in Terry Jenner, the leg-spinner, to complement the off-spinning Mallett. And let’s not forget Lillee. “DK” as he was known, might not have been the same man without Tommo but he might have been twice the man without his partner in crime. 

Lillee had bowled with increasing menace as the series progressed, never taking a five-wicket haul. Now, with Thomson unable to bowl in England’s second innings due to his injury on the tennis court, he rolled up his sleeve to take four England wickets in the second innings to add to four in the first.

Only Knott stood between Australia and total collapse. He scored 106 in England’s second innings, out of a total of 241, with only Fletcher reaching fifty. Australia won the fifth Test at the end of January by 163 runs. They were 4-0 up with one to play.

England grabbed a consolation win back in Melbourne in the sixth Test, Denness and Fletcher scoring big centuries and Lever and Greig taking 14 wickets between them. What started out in the rain of Queensland ended in the shine of Victoria. It would be three years before England regained the Ashes on home soil in 1977.

Australia didn’t take either Ian Chappell or Lillee to England that time round but more important than who they left behind, was what England had gained. They had gained a cerebral and brave captain in Mike Brearley and a tearaway young all-rounder by the name of Ian Botham. You might have heard of him? Many have.