Lennie v Tubby

Tim Ebbeck | March 07, 2023

I read Lyall Gardener’s recent story about a pitch being a little bit longer than it should have been and Len Pascoe bowling his heart out!

Great story by Lyall and “unfortunate” error of course!

It reminded me of a game I played back in the early 1980s featuring the same Len Pascoe and a young Mark Taylor.

Now, I may not get all my facts right in telling this story. So, if I’m out by a year or two, and exaggerate part of the story a bit, please cut me some slack. But the story is true! As Neil Marks once told me, “never let the facts get in the way of good story.”

As I said, it was the early 1980s and the game was between Bankstown and Northern District. It was being played at Sommerville Park as Waitara Park (later to be named “Mark Taylor Oval”, no doubt because of this story) was out of action. That means it was probably early in the season and the Rugby boys had messed up Waitara.

I digress.

Sommerville Park at Eastwood was a good ground. Perhaps not a first grade ground but ok. The wicket was a different story. It was an absolute green top. Whilst we had a tremendous bowling attack with Peter Vilimaa, Michael Coote, Kerry McKay, Steve Whitfield and Peter Taylor, they weren’t express. All class. But not 100mph quick. Not Lenny Pascoe quick. Question # 1 as we reviewed the wicket on the morning of the game – who spoke to the groundsman? No hand went up.

Ok, so we win the toss and our skipper, Ross Turner (a very shrewd man, a deep thinker, not prone to making rash outbursts, or ill-informed decisions) jumped up and down and yelled “YES!” as he waived to Esto and Cootey indicating it was time to limber up. You little beauty.

We bowled and bowled well!

Bankstown all out 60-odd.

And they did well! This was a spectacular green top and we had a very good bowling attack.

Our turn.

We did so much better. We were 9 for 50 when the great man, Stephen Whitfield, joined me at the crease. Whit and I had legendary batting careers. We enjoyed batting together and we normally had brilliantly constructed partnerships that were cut short when we got to 5 or 6. It’s often been said that our partnerships were masterclasses nipped in the bud.

Anyway, Whit and I got on with it. We passed the Bankstown total with a classic Whitfield cover drive through mid-wicket. We started to make the batsmen look average. I remember being the only batsmen in the game who did not wear a helmet. I didn’t own one. And Lennie targeted the absent helmet. No problem. Duck. Weave. Cry. Just get the hell out of the bloody way! And wait for the fuller one. Which is what I did. Eventually I got one pitched up and was thrilled to play a near perfect forward defence which went straight back past the big man for four. Good shot. Bad move. Lennie was pissed. Back to ducking and weaving and crying.

Anyway, eventually we built a lead of 70 odd and we were cheered off the ground like heroes. Well, that’s what Whit and I thought. We hoped some of our batsmen had been watching closely and learned what technique was all about.

So, we bowled and 70 seemed like a big total. But the Bankstown lads fought hard against our bloody good bowling attack and were 9 for 90 when Esto bowled a brute of a delivery to Mr Pascoe. It jumped and caught his glove as it came through to me and I took my fifth catch for the innings. All out, 20 to get.

But Lennie wasn’t happy. He stood his ground. Those infamous flames started coming out of that famous nose. He didn’t hit it he claimed. We were walking off chatting with the umpires about their insightful decisions. Lennie was still in the middle. Screaming.

Now, at that point, Whit and I were cool. We had taught our batsman a lot in our last partnership and we were confident we wouldn’t have to bat again. So, Lennie being angry, was not something we would have to worry about. 20 runs, outright win. Beer o’clock.

Lennie had different ideas.

And this is where the Mark Taylor part of story comes in. (Tubby always reminds me that his wonderful career was built on the foundation of watching Whit and I bat that day. Whilst he modelled his captaincy on Ross Turner, his batting he modelled on Whit and I. True).

Lennie was taking his long run and 20 was looking shaky when Randal Green got out and we were 3 for 11. Brad ‘Harold’ Patterson got a single and young Mark Taylor was back on strike.

8 to win.

Tubby was good. Confident. Quiet. Calm. Wearing his Australian U19 shirt and a new helmet, he looked unflappable. A few stains appearing in his creams but otherwise ready.

Lennie’s run up started 10m inside the boundary. The ball was quick. Put a graze on Tubby’s new helmet as it went through to the outstanding Bankstown keeper. Stains lengthened. Lennie snorted.

7m inside the boundary. Long run. Fast delivery. Short. Neck high. But young Tubby leant back and played the greatest hook shot I’d ever seen to the point. Off his chin, out of the middle, flat, never got more than 2 metres off the ground, in front of square leg, 4 beautiful runs.

Tubby grinned. Good shot. Lennie was standing right in front of Mark and saw the grin. The flames erupting from Lennie’s nose scorched Mark’s new helmet, blackened the Australian U19 logo, and dried out some of the stains in his creams. Tubby stopped the grin and thought “what have I done?” The stains on the creams re-emerged.

6 to win.

Lennie was fuming.

After a few choice words he started the long walk back to his mark. This time his run up took him past the sightscreen, over the boundary fence, and into the next postcode. He was angry (but obviously fit).

He started in. The next ball was the fastest ball I had ever seen. It pitched short but was aimed perfectly right at the helmet. But Tubby was young, with great reflexes and skill. He was also bright. He was a surveyor by trade and had clearly decided to use every square inch of the crease. He was in position early and played the best hook shot I had ever seen. Pretty cool really. Best hook shot to the fastest ball. The ball connected with the middle of his bat. Flew over the square leg umpire’s head, over the boundary, over the changing room pavilion, over the road, over the train line. Into a different postcode. Not the same postcode as the one Lennie had come from, the one past that.

Tubby more than grinned, he was delighted.

Six runs. Off the great man.

Outright victory.

Umpires called game.

But not Lennie.

He screamed at Tubby. “Get back here you little X$%^&# ! One more ball!! One more ball!!”

Tubby decided that discretion was the better part of valour and kept walking.

Lennie didn’t leave ground for about half an hour, standing at the top of his mark yelling for Tubby to return.

A few hours later we were sitting in a pub with the Bankstown boys having a beer. Good guys. I did ask Mr Pascoe whether he was just playing about at the end of the game. I still have the shirt that Lennie scorched when he looked at me.

Good man Mr Pascoe. Legend.