HARPO'S MARK TAYLOR OVAL VAULT 

"Jimmy Burke was a driven cricketer who played every game as if it was the Ashes-deciding test. In those days, if you asked the bloke on the Hill what he thought of “Burkey” as a batsman he would probably have replied, something like, “He was the most boring cricketer I‟ve ever watched.” Indeed, there was one Hill barracker who had been sitting for about 2 hours watching Burkey accumulate 25 runs and in his frustration called out for all to hear, “Geeze, Burkey, I wish you wuz a statue and I wuz a pigeon.” Notwithstanding, in my experience of playing with Burkey I was an avid admirer of him as a batsman, bowler and captain and he was also my mate. As a person, Burkey was different. He was lovable, adamant, humorous, stern, happy and depressed and every other colour of the emotional spectrum. He was the life of the party, a wonderful entertainer at the piano or impersonating Elvis in front of the microphone. In Australian country towns where Jack Chegwyn’s teams played, comprising some of the greatest cricketers who ever lived, 50 years later they still talk of Jimmy Burke’s musical performance at the RSL Club, while the efforts on the field of Miller, Morris, Benaud, Davidson and O‟Neill have long been forgotten. Yes, Burkey was different, but he had a huge influence on the ND‟s and it became a better club for his presence.

Not only was Burkey an international opening bat of the highest calibre, he was also one of the best club bowlers I’ve ever seen. The reason I stress the word “club” is because he didn’t bowl much in first class cricket and the reason for this was that there were some influential people in high places in the game who were dubious about his bowling action. Burkey bowled extremely accurate off-breaks at nearly medium pace and on an old-fashioned sticky wicket could be almost unplayable. In one particular home game he got 9 wickets and was instrumental in running out the other one. Whether he threw I know not, but he hated the mob calling him “Chucka”; he loved the game and would never have deliberately done anything he knew was illegal. Nevertheless, Burkey was a great player and will be remembered with affection by all who knew him.

To write about the great performances I’ve seen by our players is not only difficult but also can be seen as selective and unfair. Still, I’ll mention just a few. How about the last wicket partnership of 150 between Hughie Chilvers and Alan Davidson to win a match which eventually got the club enough points to win the comp? Then there was an innings by John Kershaw which slaughtered the opposition in an hour, and he was caught on the boundary, trying to reach his century with a 6. But that was Kersh! In the 1960’s, the opening batsmen were two of the best openers in the history of the club, Lynn Marks and Graham Southwell. Lynn believed that the opener‟s job was to wear the shine off the ball and that the best way to perform this duty was to bounce that ball off the roads on either side of the oval. On the other hand, although „Southy‟ also believed that attack was the best form of defence, he was a batting classicist in the time-honoured style. Southy never played an ugly shot. (He sometimes played a stupid shot but it never looked ugly). When Marks and Southwell opened the batting, no matter what happened it was always exciting. The pair once made 80 in the first 4 overs against Cumberland.

And let us not forget a number of fine innings by Mark Taylor himself and of course many great efforts with the ball by bowlers who have toiled away in the Hornsby heat for nearly 80 years; yet bowlers are only labourers, while batsmen are the real glamour boys of the game. Oh, I nearly forgot to mention the best innings I saw over the last decade or so. It was made by a wonderful young player who only played a couple of years for ND’s, Mark Higgs. It was a big hundred which would withstand comparison with any of the great names mentioned. This lad could easily have played for Australia. Players with lesser ability have done so and are presently doing so!!

If I had to choose the best batsman with whom I ever batted I would unhesitatingly choose Neil Harvey. (Mind you, I’m excluding the great Charlie Macartney who was a good friend of my dad, Alec, and who used to play cricket with me in the family backyard at Randwick, when I was 6. Actually, I didn’t give Charlie much of a chance because I took most of the strike so as to protect Charlie from Dad’s left arm spinners which were very difficult to play on the buffalo grass that often needed a mow.)

I batted with “Harv” a few times in First Class cricket but it was not until the years that he played with ND’s that I had a chance to see him close up. He really had no weaknesses and I doubt that I have ever seen anybody who had better footwork. If today’s batsmen have brought some innovative shots to the game, many have lost the art of footwork: Harv had both! His style was based on batting fundamentals: to a speedster, back across and head over the ball, to a spinner down the wicket to the pitch of the ball. Sometimes he went so far down you had the feeling that he was hitting the ball out of the bowler’s hand. Playing against Randwick in the late 1960‟s, Harv jumped down to their spinner, mistimed the ball and drove it into his own foot and it flew back over his head to the keeper, Barry Wood. Before Harv realised what had happened Wood grabbed the ball and knocked the bails off with the batsman out of his ground. Over a beer later, Harv told a few of us that it was the first time he had been stumped since the game against Worcester on the Tour of England in 1953. He then laughed and said, “And today, what made it worse was that I stumped myself.”

I don’t know how many really great innings were played by Neil Harvey at the then Waitara Oval – I guess about 5 but the rest wouldn’t have been far behind that description. However, if I had to choose one I guess it would be his innings in the grand final in of the 67/68 season. We knocked Sutherland over for little more than 120 on a wicket that was doing a bit and then lost both our openers for less than 20 and suddenly we were in trouble because the wicket was still seaming around. I was batting with Harv and neither of us had scored. Sutherland’s captain and Shield player, Ted Cotton, bowled the first ball to Harv; a beautiful outswinger that just missed the outside edge of both bat and stumps. The Sutherland team suddenly realised that they could win the comp. Next ball they realised they couldn’t, when Harv smashed a shot through the covers that Bradman would have envied. Two hours later, Harv was about 130 not out and the game was over.

Players like Neil Harvey come along once in a decade; our club was lucky to have him. Even at the sunset of his career, playing at a small suburban ground in the outskirts of a metropolis, he was as good as any player in the world and showed many times why he would be chosen in the greatest Australian team of all time. Well let me tell you boys and girls, he’d be in my team!

Until 1948 I had been brought up in Randwick and taught to worship at the shrine of the area, Coogee Oval, (where my father had played all his cricket and rugby) and my burning ambition was to play on Coogee Oval. However, gradually my aspirations began to change when the family moved over The Bridge and the present Taylor Oval at Waitara became my cricket home. Thus a few weeks ago my mind wandered back over 60 years and I thought of the outstanding performances I had witnessed on this green sward and the notable players who had graced it. Let me share a few of these with you now – I‟ll start with some fine opponents.

Jimmy Sullivan (the much revered groundsman of the Oval for 20 years) told me the story of the great NSW and Australian batsman, Alan Kippax, who had announced, just before the war, that he was playing his last season of cricket. Apparently, "Kippy", had scored a century on every first-grade ground in Sydney with the exception of the NDCC oval at Waitara and Kippy wanted to change that statistic in his last cricket summer. So when ND's was drawn, to play Waverley at Waitara, a sizeable crowd turned up. And sure enough, the great batsman went onto to score a century.

Then there was another day, in the 40's at Waitara, when Australia's greatest cricketer of all time, Keith Miller, walked out into the centre and took block against the ND's great leggie, Hughie Chilvers. There had been a lot of media speculation about the impending clash and again a large crowd was in attendance. Miller was a great bat but he refused to leave his crease and he sort of lunged forward at spinners. Often he was hit on the front pad but his stride was so long that no umpire would be brave enough to give him out – mind you, no umpires really wanted to give the great "Nugget" Miller out, whatever the reason. When Miller walked to the crease Hughie was bowling, so the battle between the two was joined immediately. For a couple of overs Miller lunged and prodded and failed to pick Hughie's top-spinner which really fizzed. There were a few calls from the pro-ND's crowd telling Keith to go back to Melbourne and for 40 year old Hughie to become available for the test team. Then Hughie bowled another "toppy" but this time Keith picked it, moved onto the back foot and hit it through the covers with unbelievable power. In my time playing and watching the great game I have never seen a man who played a better back foot cover drive than Keith Miller; (although I would rate Norm O'Neill second best.) Next ball Hughie gave it more air but the great batsman was now "seeing them" and as the spinning ball hit the pitch he dropped to his knee and in a shot that I could only describe as a "pull-sweep" hit it upwards over the top of the grandstand onto the roof of the shop opposite the ground. (For those cricket-yarn agnostics who read my stuff let me explain that the large tree, which for so long provided welcome shade over the seats, was then only a sapling). Now, three generations later, I can't remember how many Keith made or if Hughie eventually dismissed him but like everybody who was at the game that day and witnessed those two magnificent shots there is no doubt about who won the battle between batsman and bowler...

I mentioned Norm O'Neill previously. I have seen Normy play some fine innings over the years – from pre-season games in country towns to the MCG in first class cricket. However, the best I ever saw him play was at Waitara when St. George played ND‟s in the late "50"s. It was also, incidentally, the best innings I've ever seen against our club in all my times playing and watching cricket at Waitara. Our first grade team was in a transitional period at the time and Jimmy Burke had encouraged the selectors to opt for youth to give them experience so that, as Burkey stated, "We could win the premiership in 3 or 4 years time." This we did and we won a Club Championship as well. Now let me return to Normy.

This game was played in the days of uncovered wickets and when the captains came out to toss they realised we had a sticky wicket. We were leaping with joy when our skipper, Col Millard, won the toss and sent Saints into bat. State players, Warren Saunders and Eric Leukman, opened for Saints and they took a helluva battering on an atrocious wicket and were hit in most bodily parts between their dandruff and their tinea. However, no matter how gutsy a player may be, eventually he will make a mistake on a "gluepot‟ and have to trudge back to the pavilion or be carried back; dead. Soon Saints were 2 for few and Normy walked in but, as great a player as he was, we knew even he couldn't survive this horror strip. Well, we were wrong: 180 minutes later he was 230 not out, Saints closed their innings and we had to go in and face the music for half an hour. That day Norm O'Neill played the innings of a life time. The correctness of his technique, the certainty of his balance and footwork on a strip of turf where it was nearly impossible to stand up let alone bat correctly was a lesson in batsmanship, plus the sheer majesty of his stroke-play was a joy to behold. We were thrashed. Yet as I walked through the gate that evening I knew why I loved cricket. I had been on the receiving end of a hiding from Normy O'Neill and I felt blessed.