Long Shot - Peter Meares
Peter Meares | June 26, 2023
SYDNEY, 1996
“So, it all looks academic now. As long as Winston Olonga stays at the crease, South Africa should cruise home. They only need 45 runs, with 3 wickets in hand, for outright victory over Australia.”
In his Sydney Cricket Ground commentary box at the back of the M.A. Noble Stand, Lucas Fox paused in his description, milking the moment. Voice hushed, almost a whisper, he built the suspense for listeners in two countries. Just turned 30, tall and fair, Lucas looked as young as many of the players. No slouch as a batsman himself, he had sacrificed a budding cricket career for the more secure life of a commentator, and after three years was reaping the benefits. His statistician, Billy Urquhart, was a mine of information, alerting Lucas to significant records, run-rates, bowling figures, archival anecdotes and other minutiae – they were a perfect team.
Their summer ratings were now on a par with the traditional cricket network, the ABC. With a distinctive, well-modulated voice, Lucas came across as someone who was knowledgeable, enthusiastic and witty – a perfect blend for a caller. Like the famous English soccer commentator Martin Tyler, Lucas rarely used an expert. He was outspoken, entertaining and, because of his youth, in touch with modern players. His distinctive voice commanded attention, his feel for the game provoked interest and his analysis was rarely wrong.
“Olonga, this brilliantly instinctive batsman from the slums of Johannesburg, has been the find of this tour. Exciting, charismatic and humble, he’s almost as popular with the Australian public as he is at home. Broad-shouldered, but light on his feet, he’s looks more like a middleweight boxer than a cricketer. But it’s his bearing that sets him apart – supremely confident, almost arrogant, he always looks like he’s already scored fifty when he strides to the crease. He intimidates bowlers and yet he’s only been playing first class cricket for three years. It’s hard to believe that this is his Test debut and he’s only eighteen.
Now Olonga settles over his bat. A glance around the field. On 97, he just needs a boundary for a magnificent match-winning century. The tall New South Wales paceman, Mackie, moves in to bowl…
But wait…he’s collapsed! Olonga has fallen on his stumps! My God…he hasn’t moved a muscle. Something’s dreadfully wrong.”
Fox raised his binoculars and focussed on the inert batsman, spreadeagled across the stumps, as fieldsmen rushed towards him. The crowd sat in stunned silence as someone gently pulled his helmet off.
“Oh my God, this isn’t possible. Olonga has blood all over his face. I think he’s been shot!”
