The Sean
Cricketer Of The Year
OK.As with many Australian kids of a certain generation (older now than I’d like to admit), I grew up idolising AB and so there’ll always be an element of hero-worship for me with him. I thought he was a great captain, and more than that he was absolutely the captain that Australia needed at that (dark) point in its cricketing history.
He never wanted the job. We know that because he made it clear from the start, and it took him a long time to become even remotely comfortable with it (you could argue that he never fully did). He wasn’t a genius tactician – and by that I don’t mean he was clueless or naïve tactically, not at all, just that it wasn’t at the top of his list of strengths. In the early days too you could see there was a real frustration that his own (magnificent) performances were more often than not for nothing because the rest of the team usually folded around him which, combined with his reluctance to be doing the job in the first place, had a real impact on his enjoyment of the game for a long time. A lesser man would have just thought “**** this, I’ve got better things to do” and walked – and no one would have blamed him for it.
But he didn’t. He did something about it, and what he did was the greatest legacy of his captaincy – mentality. He changed the entire mentality of Australian cricket at that time. In short, he’d just absolutely had enough of being a loser, of being surrounded by losers, of being part of a team that expected to lose and were happy when they did pull off the occasional win. Dean Jones once told a story of the Aussie dressing room in Sydney after Australia had won the dead rubber fifth Test of the 86/87 Ashes – Deano had made 184 not out, a couple of the bowlers had got amongst the wickets, and they were generally whooping it up in celebration and couldn’t work out why Border wasn’t joining it. AB’s response was along the lines of “Why are you ****ing celebrating? We lost the Ashes.” Jones said that was a lightbulb moment for him too, to stop being satisfied with failure.
We saw this change in mentality sometimes manifest itself in less-than-amiable ways – Border’s “captain grumpy” persona was well justified, summed up by the famous incident in 1989 when David Gower jovially asked his opposite number on a very hot day if he could get a drink while batting to rehydrate, to which AB replied “no, you can ****ing wait for drinks like the rest of us.” Gower had always considered Border a mate and wasn’t expecting such hostility, but again in AB this was a man who was simply saying that enough is enough – no more Mr Nice Guy.
The other thing that went to the next level while Border was skipper (and coach Bob Simpson deserves plenty of credit for this) was fitness. The Australian team in the second half of the 1980s and into the 1990s had a big change in culture around dedication to fitness and looking after themselves, which showed hugely as well in in their on-field performance.
Border wasn’t perfect, as a captain or as a bloke, and in a way it’s a shame that by the time Australia had a team worthy of him and on the verge of dominating world cricket he was at the end of his career and on the way out. But to me he will always be the chief architect of that dominance – Taylor, Waugh, Ponting and their all-conquering teams were very much living in the house that AB built.
(Just getting in first)