Going out 'for just one more parade'

Roshan Paul in Sydney

The neon sign beside the old-fashioned Bradman stand blazed, "Welcome to the S.C.G." At the other end of the ground, beneath the old clock tower, the fabulous and extremely modern electronic scoreboard displayed a portrait of The Don walking out to bat, with the words, "Sir Donald George Bradman: 1908-2001."

The first thing that struck me as I walked out onto the S.C.G. on Sunday night was that the Bradman stand was painted green-and-gold, the colours of the Australian team. How appropriate, I thought, considering that it was Bradman that instilled pride in these colours to a nation devastated by the Depression. This was the same pride that John Williamson sang about at the end of the service when he asked The Don to "come out for just one more parade", and it is the same pride with which Steve Waugh today clings on to his battered and tattered baggy green cap.

It seemed unreal to me. A few months ago, I found myself fortunate to be able to visit Lord's and now, here I was, actually strolling out onto the almost-as-hallowed grounds of the S.C.G.

With the memories of his batting in the Test series still fresh in my mind, as I walked out I couldn't help but remember the last time V.V.S. Laxman played a Test at this ground. If not for that unbelievable 167 he scored about 15 months ago, (an innings rated by several Australians I have spoken to here in Sydney as the best innings played in Australia since Brian Lara's 277 in 1993), would Laxman have had the chance to inspire India's latest triumph? I wonder...

Unknown to me at the time, Laxman was at that very moment launching another attack on the Australian bowling in Bangalore.

I was accompanied that night by Andy Hammond, a friend from college who takes great pride in the cricketing connection with his last name and whose love for cricket statistics far exceeds his desire to actually watch the game. It seemed the same thoughts were running through his head for he turned to me and commented, "Bloody Laxman, I'll never forget that innings."

Andy and I were part of a group of about 500 cricket fanatics, several of whom were young and pretty girls exclaiming at how "hot" Bradman's grandson was, who braved a chilly wind and a slight drizzle to take the S.C.G up on its offer to watch the memorial service on their giant screen. S.C.G authorities had expected well over 1000 people to attend but I suspect the bad weather coupled with the fact that it was also being shown on TV kept most people away.

Sir Don was born in Bowral, a little town in New South Wales, and therefore, he began his cricket career at this ground. As this was where it all began, the S.C.G. decided to throw its gates open to the general public for free admission to the ground.

As was said often during the service, the memorial was not an event for mourning but a celebration of The Don's life. In that spirit, Sunday's Sydney Morning Herald carried an article inviting people to bring their cricket equipment with them and have a hit at the S.C.G in tribute to Bradman. Although people were restricted to tennis balls instead of cricket balls, or perhaps because of it, the S.C.G prior to the service reminded one of Shivaji Park on a Sunday morning. Impromptu games of cricket were in progress all over the ground and we had to dodge tennis balls flying at us from all directions as we made our way to the center of the ground, just south of the wicket, to settle down to watch the service.

I noticed however that the majority of people batting were elderly gentlemen. Normally, it would be them bowling to the aspiring cricketers in their sons or grandsons but on this day, the younger generation were content to give their fathers and grandfathers a chance to relive the days when The Don was the only spark lighting up the lives of a nation wracked by the Great Depression.

Perhaps it was the atmosphere of the floodlit S.C.G., perhaps it was the fact that I was surrounded by fellow fanatics, perhaps it was the gloom and dampness of the night, perhaps it was all of those things, but I was moved by the service. I thought it was wonderful. Although Richie Benaud's speech was for me the most enjoyable part of the memorial, it was Greta Bradman's reminiscing and her song that most affected me. I felt that her talk, more than her father's, best gave us an insight into Sir Don's nature, a nature he kept hidden from the world through his determination to lead as private a life as he possibly could.

As Sir Donald Bradman's granddaughter sang in tribute to him, I noticed Andy turning away from me and making what I think were surreptitious dabs at his eyes. The reason I'm not sure he was wiping away tears was that I didn't exactly have clear vision myself...

Postscript: The electronic scoreboard at the S.C.G is fantastic. Rather than just showing replays, it actually telecasts the entire game complete with facts and figures and analyses such as wagon-wheels, charts depicting what percentage of each bowler's balls pitched where, etc. And all this for one of their domestic games! With such facilities at the ground as well as the atmosphere of a crowd, who would want to stay at home to watch the game on TV any more?