On the last Friday November 29, 1974, fifty years ago to the day precisely, eleven boys, mainly in white Penguin shirts, unbuttoned, with their cricket shorts pulled up slightly too, waited at the big gate of Oakey Primary School. Some shadow-hooked, flourishing their own personal cricket bats, Polyarmours, although I had a Shaw and Shrewsbury; some spun a paintless compo from hand to hand; some practised the cocked cobra of the star of the 1972 Tour of England, D.K. Lillee whose back had troubled us even more than it had troubled him; some chatted, sipping from their water containers.
“Wally Edwards is out?”
“Who the hell is Wally Edwards?”
“New opener.”
“Another opener.”
“But who is he?”
“He’s Ross Edwards’ brother.”
“No, he’s not.”
“Cousin.”
“Yeah. Cousin. They’re from WA.”
It was the very first morning of the Ashes summer of 1974-75, which was to become, without a doubt, the most pivotal cricket series of my childhood. Australia had been 2 for 10 and we feared for a disastrous collapse.
Stephen Varley’s mum, Averell, was nowhere to be seen. Nor was my mother. We were all getting more and more nervous. We still had to drive the twenty minutes or so, past Kingsthorpe and Gowrie Mountain, to take on the finest of rough-and-tumble Wilsonton, the most western suburb of Toowoomba, at cricket.
“They’re not related,” I said.
“Who?”
“Ross and Wally.”
We kicked the dirt with our Dunlop Volleys, and Narms. A couple of the fill-in cricketers wore gym boots and their whites were borderline, grubby T-shirts. But they were getting an afternoon away from the blackboard and Morgy O’Brien who could cast a dark, after-lunch eye when you weren’t as enthusiastic about singing ‘Finiculi, Finicula’, ‘Eerie Canal’ or ‘Lime-Juice Tub’ during Let’s Go Music.
I had my red Sharp pocket radio with me. It sat on a fence post so we could all follow proceedings from the Gabba, just two and a half hours down the range. I can still hear Alan McGilvray.
The Chappells had dug in; the Australian innings had been steadied. Skipper Mike Denness had thrown the ball to Tony Greig to find the spark. We were still getting to know the new visitors, but we remembered Tony Greig from the Rest of the World tour in `71-`72. And England. Toweringly tall, and running in from about mid-off, he was pigeon-toed and his left foot kept landing bang in the block hole. Every time he did, Ian Chappell would walk over, re-mark his guard with a spike, and dish out some lip.
The world had Muhammad Ali, but we had I.M. Chappell.
Neither was going to concede. In the effects mic, you could hear individual voices from under the poincianas letting Tony know what they thought. Alan McGilvray called it in that old Australian voice that had placed cricket in every nook of the country. It’s funny what stays in the mind. An enterprising historian might try to find that ABC recording. I’d be keen to check my memory.
The impasse went on and on and on – probably for the grand total of one over – until the Varleys’ canary yellow Falcon pulled up and half the team piled in. The other half went in our Austin Tasman. We’d upgraded from the Morris 1100 and dodged the P76. It’s funny what stays in the mind. An enterprising historian might try to find that ABC recording. I’d be keen to check my memory.
We were becoming cricketers.
Nay…we were cricketers.
The feel of the ball coming out of the middle, the sound of your delivery clipping the bails, a hot catch behind square leg, was winning us. And so, too, the hope to wear The Baggy Green.
Oakey Primary was the biggest of the local schools – with about forty kids at each year level. During my Grade 6 year, we’d beaten the little schools in the wheatfields like Jondaryan (although they had a genuine quick in Tony Ryan), Bowenville and St Monica’s Convent pretty authoritatively and so Morgy nominated us for The Big Smoke. We played all our games In Town, taking on some of the kids we played with, and against, in Saturday morning Under 12 and Under 13 club cricket. The Brothers Harms played for Wests.
We played backyard cricket, on a strip of turf we watered and mowed and rolled; we listened to the cricket; we watched the cricket; we read everything we could about the cricket.
Yes, we loved the game. The 1972 Tour of England (which is when I got my Sharp radio, I reckon) had helped create the love, but the Summer of `74-`75 was something else again.
The Chappells put on a hundred while we were serving it up to Wilsonton. We did enough. I got a wicket, caught and bowled, with my first ball – the final wicket of their innings – and we got the runs.
After the middle order failed in Brisbane, Australia were 8/229 but, thanks to Max Walker’s 41 and the mop-haired Jeff Thomson’s 23, reached 309.
Then the action started.
In those days, when the ABC assumed the responsibility to bring sport to the nation, the match could not be televised in the home state until after Tea. Listening to the radio, we pictured balls whizzing past English throats. Thommo went nuts at the top of the order until Tony Greig stood up to him and put together what I remember as a swashbuckling century. It took five hours. The Poms got to 265, close enough to be right in the Test match.
The Australian middle order batsmen were better in the second dig, with Greg Chappell, Ross Edwards and Doug Walters all making half centuries and Rod Marsh cashing in before the declaration.
Surely the Poms couldn’t chase the runs down – 250 was considered an enormous final innings score. They had to get over 300. Unheard of.
Lillee and Thomson were fired up, Thommo’s eccentric slinging action making the ball fly. He put fear into the eyes of the visitors, sending five of the first six batsmen back to the quaint tropical pavilion himself, the last one being Tony Greig for pittance, with his famous sand shoe crusher. He polished the match off by putting one through Mike Hendrick and we (Australia was still we in those days) won by heaps. England: All Out 166.
“Wow,” we said, when convening under the pepperina tree down by the incinerator. “How’s Thommo!”
“How’s his ball to Tony Greig?”
“He might kill someone.”
“It’ll be Dennis Amiss. For sure. He’s weak as piss.”
“They all are. Pommy sooks.”
My brother Peter was a good cricketer and we had some other handy ones. When Tony Ryan attended a World Series Cricket Clinic at Toowoomba Grammar School a few years later, Ian Chappell spotted him and took his phone number. Tony went off to study IT. He married my cousin Andrea, coincidentally.
Stephen Varley was a wonderful friend. He was only ever known as Hector after the road safety character. An outstanding all-rounder, Hector was an intelligent left-arm opening bowler from a young age and a technically sound batsman who had all the shots and could really get going. His father Bob was a barman and horse trainer. After high school, Hector worked in a bank, while he was building a career as a bush race caller, until he was killed by a drunk driver in an awful highway accident.
We won about half our games In Town.
We couldn’t wait for the WACA.
Read more from John Harms HERE
To return to the www.footyalmanac.com.au home page click HERE
Our writers are independent contributors. The opinions expressed in their articles are their own. They are not the views, nor do they reflect the views, of Malarkey Publications.
Do you enjoy the Almanac concept?
And want to ensure it continues in its current form, and better? To help keep things ticking over please consider making your own contribution.
Become an Almanac (annual) member – CLICK HERE
About John Harms
JTH is a writer, publisher, speaker, historian. He is founder and contributing editor of The Footy Almanac and footyalmanac.com.au. He has written columns and features for numerous publications. His books include Confessions of a Thirteenth Man, Memoirs of a Mug Punter, Loose Men Everywhere, Play On, The Pearl: Steve Renouf's Story and Life As I Know It (with Michelle Payne). He can be contacted [email protected] He is married to Susan. They have three school-age kids - Theo, Anna, Evie. He might not be the worst putter in the world but he's in the worst four. His ambition was to lunch for Australia but it clashed with his other ambition - to shoot his age.
I remember it well, JTH, especially the Grieg/IMC stoush and the sandshoe crusher. In the Poms’ second innings, Jeffrey Robert Thomson was literally fearsome.
At the time I was 22, playing as a slow left-armer/specialist gulley fieldsman/ No. 10 or 11 for the Unley Lutherans ‘A’ grade in Adelaide’s Church Association. Our nemesis team were the Magill Methodists who played a joyless game. Perhaps if they’d allowed themselves a libation or two they might have enjoyed it more. We trained twice a week – on Tuesdays nights we trained for Saturday afternoon; on Thursday nights we trained at the pub for after the game on Saturday. Beer tickets were all the go. I recall that Bob Paech and I had a good night with the latter one night and waltzed away with about 18 longnecks between us at a very cheap rate. Gee, could Bob rock them down! You stood a couple metres further back when he was on song.
Outstanding JTH. It was absolutely pivotal to my love of cricket too, that 74/75 series.
Let’s Go Music! Classic. Ms Peters was our feared teacher. She was Dutch and stood at 6’2”. Her glasses were so thick they could have held back Eildon Weir.
Chappells were mesmerising. Thommo was a bush ranger 100 years too late.
The visitors had almost a month to acclimatise – their prep was as follows:
Oct 30 v SA Country (Port Lincoln)
Nov 1,2,3,4 v SA (Adelaide)
Nov 6 v Vic Country (Warrnambool)
Nov 8,9,10,11 v Victoria (Melbourne)
Nov 13 v ACT/Southern NSW Country (Canberra)
Nov 15,16,17,18 v NSW (Sydney)
Nov 20 Qld Country (Nambour)
Nov 22,23,24,25 Queensland (Brisbane)
Nov 26 Qld Country (Southport)
Good call Dips.
Good call Swish.
IJH, I thought you meant the long necks (With Rob).
Brilliant JTH exactly the same it was the 72 tour of England ( I was 9 ) which got me also – was going to the 73 test v Pakistan when Rowdy got 8 for but got crook and was in hospital, so the 74-75 series was my 1st experience live of test cricket- I reckon we were there by 9 sitting on the concrete in front of the Vic Richardson gates for the 11 start.
DK dismissed Amiss in the 1st over of the day have still never seen slips cordon so far back re Thommo
insanely quick.We ran thru the poms and Tangles took a great catch at square leg.I still vividly remember the applause for Colin Cowdrey as he came out to bat I was hooked for life
The series had already been decided by the Fifth Test in Adelaide, but us locals were baying for blood.
Graham Colman’s dad took half a dozen of us up the Main North Road, seated (if that is the word) on the back of his Kingswood tray top ute (fortunately it had sides), but when we hit King William Road, it was obvious that the day was a sell-out so we returned to Elizabeth and listened to the day’s play instead. We were 5/84 on a wet wicket (Underwood had all 5 on his way to 7/113) but Walters (55), Jenner (74), Walker (41) , Lillee (26) and Mallett (23*) hauled the score just over the 300 mark.
We all made our separate ways to Day 3, seeing the English knocked over for 172. It was even more crowded and I spent the day seated on the fifth row of the concourse in front of the VY Richardson Gates (Day 2 – 30,682; Day 3 – 34,241 plus 10,000 eskies)
Some lovely memories there, John. As a matter of interest – I caught up with Ross Edwards and Lawrie Colliver in Perth last weekend. I asked Ross about Wally (who was my favourite player at the time despite me then being a croweater). I thought Wally was exposed in that series by the short ball and that the Australian selectors should have picked McCosker from the first Test (he replaced Edwards at Sydney). Ross believed that Wally Edwards was unlucky and an excellent hooker of the ball, but perhaps that’s just an old teammate showing loyalty. Lawrie and I quizzed Ross about the 1974/75 series where he scored a century at Perth (he was at the other end when Walters hit the six of the last ball of the day to bring up his century in a session). Ross was as modest as ever, describing himself as an ‘average’ player. If we could have all been so ‘average.’
Thanks for sharing your memories, JTH. It’s nice sometimes to go back to those days.
Yes, for me, this was the first series that I followed live in its entirety. My main memories of the prelude to the series were that English fast bowler John Snow and batting opener Geoff Boycott were absent from their squad. Many said that Boycott had absented himself in fear of Lillee and Thomson. However, there also appeared some dissention over the English captaincy going to Denness.
For Australia, the team looked settled except the one opening position, after the retirement of Keith Stackpole. Wally Edwards was given a fair chance of 3 Tests before being replaced by McCosker. The Australian batting line-up was otherwise very settled, and Ian Chappell used Lillee and Thomson in short devastating spells.
England just couldn’t get past Lillee and Thomson. After half the England batting line-up was out with injury, they brought out the 40+ year old Cowdrey. Edrich and Cowdrey really put up gutsy performances.
I also remember the crowds constantly chanting, “Willis, weak as piss!”
However, it wasn’t until the last Test, when Lillee and thomson were both out injured, that England looked comfortable. Denness made a big score to retain his batting spot, and won the last Test to retain his position as captain.
The following Australian tour to England 1975 was very interesting too. But, that’s a story for next year.
Memories, hey John. November 29, 1974, is quite vivid in my memory. My father died that day.
I watched a lot of the Gabba test on the old black and white TV. I, the family, were in shock. The sudden, unexpected death of my father was something no one expected. Family came down from the Riverina to mourn, support. The thread that linked us over the next few days was watching this opening test on the old B&W TV.
I’d watched bits, and pieces, of previous series on the TV, though this family tragedy put the Ashes series in a whole new context. The return of DK Lillee, the development of ‘Thommo’, the demolition of the British batting at the Gabba, provided me with a coping, a way of trying to find a positive focus following my father’s death.
I watched the series religiously that summer. Doug Walters ton in a session, Ashley Mallet dismissing Geoff Arnold at the SCG to reclaim the Ashes, the early collapse and fightback in Adelaide, then unfortunately the injuries to Lillee and ‘Thommo’, allowing the English a hollow victory in the final test.
A great series, one only to happy reminiscing about, though November 29, 1974 is a day tinged with major sadness for me.
Glen!
Wow. 50 years ago. Where the bloody has that time gone?
Sitting matric exams at Norwood High School. Focus was on the cricket in Brisbane. Couldn’t wait to get home and watch it on the telly. Needless to say, I didn’t pass. The Chappelli/Toony Grig battle over a spot of dirt is remembered well. Chappelli at fault was one commentators view as TG was the “user” of the crease at the time. What a test, what a series.
Great memories, JTH.
Cricket was different then. Will the younger cohort’s memories in years to come be as fond for Starc and Hazlewood?
brilliant, JTH
this is me in 1979/80!
“Australia won outright” – just like the ABC would report Sheffield Shield wins, “outright” … on the first innings, bonus points …
I can still hear Alan McGilvray, too
“And to this ball from Garner, Laird is defending back down the wicket”
This was the first series I recall, and Dad took me to Day 2 at Adelaide Oval which was the first day’s play as the opening day was a wash-out. It was my Adelaide Oval debut.
I don’t remember much of our batting, but Thommo and Lillee had an over each to conclude the day, and this had a significant impact upon me. The noise, the expectation and the theatre of those sixteen deliveries was remarkable for an eight-year-old.
Penguin shirts and, of course, Dunlop Volleys! While DVs have made a questionable contribution to sport, their cultural value is unparalleled.
Thanks, JTH.
Terrific jth,
I was a religious watcher of Test cricket on TV. This may have been the first series where the game was shown live all day (other than in the home State). I was at the end of Form 5 at this stage and recall the Brisbane Test hurrying home from school to watch. Thommo’s sand shoe crusher is etched in the memory.
The MCG Test was the first one that I attended in person, four out of five days I recall. Catching the train in to Richmond from Ringwood East was a big deal. It took about an hour. There were no freeways back then, if you wanted to drive, though we did not have a car in the family back then anyway. Different times. I’ll have to dig out my ABC Score Book.
Dunlop Volleys…even way back when