Shane Warne did not just live life, he orchestrated it. The world was his music hall, he was the virtuoso, who transformed sound into music. Every appearance he made on the stage of life, physical or virtual, was a carefully crafted performance — theatre integral to every move. The fact that there was unbelievable skill behind it all was apparent only to the discerning.
It seems entirely appropriate, therefore, that his last good night message was Instagrammed to the world from a beautiful pool villa in Koh Samui, Thailand. And his last moving tribute was a tweet sent the next morning bidding a final goodbye to his early mentor Rodney Marsh, an Australian legend and one of the greatest wicket keepers of all time who had died of a heart attack.
Minutes after the news of Warne’s own passing (also from a heart attack) was made public barely 12-hours later, his tweet went viral. Up among the cricketing celestials, a broad approving smile would have lit up Shane Warne’s face. It was life’s theatre at its best.
England’s Andrew Strauss once said about Warne: ‘He was literally the greatest showman …[Facing him] was a living, breathing nightmare … you’re playing to his tune. That was his great skill.’
‘Warnie was a psychologist as well as a leg spinner,’ said Ian Chappell in the recently released documentary, Shane.
West Indian umpire Steve Buckner once recalled Warne going down on his knees with anguish writ large on his face, pleading for an LBW. Bucknor stood there, impassive, shaking his head. As Warne finally got up and walked past him to his bowling mark, in a soft voice he said: ‘Good call Steve, that was going down leg.’
An umpire who had both a bird’s eye view of Warne’s genius and his constant chatter in his ears through Warne’s career was Simon Taufel. He spoke to me from Sydney last night.
‘Shane was someone who changed cricket — on and off the field. He was relentless in challenging not only batsmen but umpires and administrators alike. Warnie was a disruptor and leaves behind a massive impact and legacy of innovation. There will not be another like Shane Keith Warne,’ Simon signed off.
I wrote recently in a review of the Shane documentary: ‘Warne was a master of the craft that he practised, turning the ball viciously, flighting it fearlessly and off the pitch making it do tricks batsmen could scarcely believe. And between deliveries he would sledge, he would grandstand, he would create drama where none existed. In the end, the batsman was made to feel a bemused extra, as he made his way off Warne’s stage.’ Little did I think it would turn into a eulogy days later.
Also Read: Shane Warne: He took the world for a spin and world loved him back
The beginnings of Shane Warne
But Warne was far from being only about the theatre. Like all great performers, the flourish and the trappings only served to disguise the genius.
For three long decades, Australia had bemoaned the lack of a quality spinner. The land that had once boasted tweakers of the calibre of Clarrie Grimmett, Jack Iverson, Richie Benaud and Bill O’Reilly, had despaired of ever seeing another. And then Shane Warne arrived, an oasis rising from that desert of despair, sent by the cricketing gods to slake the thirst of an entire generation.
Warne’s lone wicket conceding 228 runs in his first two Tests against India gave no hint of the 1,000 more international wickets he would eventually bag. His demolition by Ravi Shastri and Sachin Tendulkar was perhaps just the shock he needed to unleash the monster beneath. He took thirty wickets in his next nine Tests, but that was still barely a hint of what was to come.
All that changed the following summer in England. Shane Warne’s first Ashes delivery transformed spin bowling. England was 80 for one on the second day, responding to Australia’s 289, when the peroxide blonde was thrown the ball. ‘My thought process was to bowl the [first] ball and spin the ball as far as you possibly can and send a message to the England guys that this guy can spin it,’ Warne explained in Shane, ‘Let them see it drift, curve and just rip it.’ It did more than that. The ball pitched outside the in-form Mike Gatting’s leg stump, spun viciously behind his substantial bulk, missed his bat, and took the off stump.
It became known as the ‘Ball of the Century’. The mantle of lifting cricket from a sport to entertainment in the 20th Century was now on Warne’s broad shoulders. A legend had been born.
Also Read: The many hats Shane Warne wore — ‘king of spin’, maverick, colourful commentator
Warne and India — a love affair for the ages
Shane Warne and India, the land that can claim credit for elevating spin bowling to an art form, had an enduring love affair. There is no greater body of fans Warne leaves behind than in the subcontinent. In him, the young found inspiration and in the mature, he induced nostalgia.
It didn’t matter that Warne, on Indian pitches against the nimble-footed genius of Laxman, Tendulkar and Dravid, looked almost ordinary. His mere presence shot up heart rates, his disarming smile won him millions of hearts, and the genius of his craft brought disbelieving shakes of the head.
Warne only understood the iconic status he enjoyed in India in the inaugural year of the Indian Premier League when he arrived to a rock-star reception and was driven down the cheering streets of Jaipur in a cavalcade. And that year, when he moulded a team of star-struck unknown youngsters into the first champions of the IPL, the fairy tale was complete.
Warne was India’s adopted son, and never again would the nation fall out of love. It is a measure of the impact he has had on generations of Indians, some of whom have never even seen Shane Warne bowl, that today he is mourned as one of their own Wizards of Spin.
Also Read: ‘RIP GOAT’: Virat Kohli, Rohit Sharma condole demise of Shane Warne
Selfless off the stage
Shane Warne was also a rare superstar who was selfless in passing on his craft to future generations. He would often be found bending down to the height of young boys teaching them how to grip the ball and ‘let it rip’. Any young spinner, who cared to ask for his advice, had his undivided attention and wisdom.
Warne may have left us well before we were ready, but he left a timely legacy in the form of his documentary. For young spinners the world over, a few minutes listening to Warne talk with passion about the art of leg-spin, and demonstrate the grip and movement that goes into each of the variations, will be an education few coaches can give them.
He may have been a showman on the field, but off it Warne was unapologetically human, demonstrating all the virtues and foibles of our species, unashamedly.
Shane Keith Warne wrote his own eulogy with his concluding words in Shane: ‘I wasn’t perfect. I love loud music. I smoked. I drank. I bowled a bit of leg spin. That was me.’
Go well Warnie.
Anindya Dutta @Cric_Writer is a sports columnist and author of Wizards: The Story of Indian Spin Bowling, and Advantage India: The Story of Indian Tennis. Views are personal.
(Edited by Srinjoy Dey)