One of the most memorable and intimidating experiences of my cricketing career was when I felt the wrath of former Australian Test fast bowler, Merv Hughes.
If you don’t know who Merv is, he became a cultural icon during the 1980s and 90s, capturing the public’s hearts and minds with his aggressive pace bowling, extroverted personality, big frame and bristling moustache.
Merv played 53 Test Matches and 33 One day Internationals for Australia during the 80s and 90s and is still a prominent figure in the media today.
You may have seen him on reality TV shows like Celebrity Overhaul or I’m A Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here.
Or maybe you have seen him on ads for Sportsbet, or leading tour groups to the Ashes matches in England.
Merv and I crossed paths when he came out of retirement for the 2000/01 cricket season to captain Footscray’s Second XI in the Victorian Premier Cricket competition.
I was captain of North Melbourne’s Second XI at the time and we played Footscray on its home ground, which is located just near the Footscray Park campus of Victoria University.
The name of that ground?
The Mervyn G Hughes Oval.
You can imagine that it was a slightly surreal feeling going out to toss the coin at the start of the game against Merv on the oval that bears his name.
I lost the toss and Merv decided that his team would bat first, but we bowled well and dismissed Footscray cheaply.
Merv came in to bat at number eight and smacked a few balls to the boundary, but he, like his teammates, didn’t occupy the crease for very long.
When our turn came to bat, we were able to pass Footscray’s total fairly quickly and comfortably thanks in part to Merv being injured and unable to bowl.
As we built a healthy lead, I started contemplating a declaration so that we could send Footscray in for a second innings and press for an outright victory.
Being in a position to declare an innings closed is a pretty rare experience for a cricket captain and one that I had never had before.
I wasn’t sure of the timing and etiquette required, I decided to wait until the next break in play, which was the drinks break, before declaring.
When Footscray’s volunteers took the drinks onto the field and I called my batsmen back into the clubrooms, signifying our declaration, Merv was not impressed.
He provided me with his unique brand of what I will describe as, frank and honest feedback.
I was surprised and intimidated by Merv’s outburst, but was able to absorb the main theme of his displeasure, which was that I had wasted the time of Footscray’s volunteers who had prepared the drinks.
I have since learned that there is a protocol in cricket that before you declare at a drinks break, you tell the volunteers who prepare the drinks not to bother preparing the drinks because the players are coming off the field and will get their own drinks.
Merv’s mood didn’t improve as we pressed home our advantage on the field, bowling Footscray out again and then chasing down the runs we needed in the second innings to win the game outright.
It was great to get an outright win, because they, like declarations, are a rare occurrence in most forms of cricket.
However, my satisfaction with the outright win was tempered by the fact that I had to sit down with Merv at the end of the game to complete the traditional captain’s report on the umpires.
As soon as Merv sat his burly six foot four frame down opposite me, he eyeballed me and asked me why I had declared at the drinks break.
When I explained that I was a relatively inexperienced captain and it was the first time I had been in a position to declare, Merv’s annoyance with me reduced and we were able to complete the captain’s report without any incident or Merv feeling the need to provide me with additional frank and honest feedback.
Please post a comment here or on our Facebook page to let us know what you thought about this post.
Any likes and shares are also appreciated as they help to spread this post to a wider audience.
