Mr Cricket (22 page)
Former Indian and Northamptonshire spinner Bishen Bedi and me at a Northhamptonshire Cricket Club function.
I used to think there was little more to the game of cricket than just playing. As a child my dreams were never centred around fame or fortune, just the intense desire to play cricket for my country. I never dreamed about being wealthy or well known. For me, it was all about what it would be like to walk out onto the SCG or the MCG â or any other great ground â to play a game for Australia. I held on to that way of thinking right up until the moment I got the chance to do just that. I was so single-minded about it that I didn't really consider either the positive or negative spinoffs that could eventuate from reaching that level.
Bob Carter, my old coach at Northamptonshire, was the first person to advise me that I should find a good manager. Bob had an unbelievable amount of faith in me. He didn't think it was a question of if I played for Australia, but when. âYou're going to play for Australia and you must have a manager ready now,' he told me. âYou need to find someone who you will trust to look after everything else that's going on so that you can just focus on playing cricket.' Bob was saying
this to me at a time when I was at a pretty low point. I had struggled a bit for WA and hadn't been performing well for Northants, so it was hard for me to take his advice seriously. I was just trying to hold on to my county spot rather than planning for an international career!
There is always room at the top.
But Bob knew that if things were to take off, there would be a lot more for me to consider than just ensuring I stayed in form on the field. He knew that people would want more of my time, I would be more exposed on many different levels and if I wasn't ready for it, it would start to affect my ability to play well, which, of course, was always going to remain the most important consideration.
I found it amazing just how much belief Bob had in me, especially when I was finding it hard to believe in myself. It was a great boost to have him on my side to that extent and, because I had come to trust him so much, I thought about his advice and began keeping my eyes and ears open in the search for the kind of manager I thought I could work with.
My initial feeling was that I didn't want to be part of a big management group. I didn't want to be managed by someone who was looking after a hundred different sportspeople because I couldn't stand the idea of being just another client. If I was going to have a manager, I wanted to create a personal relationship with that person. I wanted it to be someone I could trust. My whole life has been about creating solid and genuine personal and professional relationships and I didn't want to move away from that.
I knew the former NSW all-rounder Neil Maxwell from having played against him. Maxi had sledged the living daylights out of me so I didn't think very highly of him at first! But I knew that he understood the game. He had played at a high level and been involved in the administration side of things when he worked with New Zealand Cricket as their marketing manager. Maxi had only two other clients, Brett Lee and Jason Gillespie.
His set-up sounded great and had extra appeal because he wanted me to play an active role in helping run the business. We have gone on to forge a balanced and positive relationship.
NEIL MAXWELL
Mike and I first met way back in the 1994â95 Sheffield Shield season. He was a young upstart from WA and I was part of a great NSW side that had won the Shield the previous season. Having been dominant for quite a while, it was a little off-putting for us to come up against this scrawny opening batsman who refused to be dismissed. Mike showed tremendous courage in that match. He frustrated me senseless and left a lasting impact on me. I thought he was a brilliant cricketer and, after having played against him, I think I felt the same as most cricket-loving Australians in that I was mystified as to why it took him so long to get a chance to play for his country.
Having a good link with people is paramount in my business. If Mike and I hadn't connected well I wouldn't have pursued him as a client. My philosophy in business is to build on naturally strong relationships. In the management game you have to be able to speak to your client truthfully and sometimes what you have to say might not go down very well. You don't want to be worried about overly sensitive personalities.
Mike is the only client I've chased. I did that because I could see that with the Australian cricket team about to lose a couple of players who suited one style of marketing, an opportunity for Mike in the corporate market was about to open up. Someone like Andrew Symonds, for instance, is much more suited to marketing sunglasses than scotch. It's about the image different people have on and off the field. Mike's image is of a very grounded and university educated professional sportsman. He has a demeanour that is relaxed yet commands respect and he has a sound thought process.
Mike's success on the field has been inspiring, he is consistent and mature and conducts himself in public and with the media perfectly. He would have to be the easiest player I've ever managed. He is able to process ideas while keeping in mind what his sponsors might be thinking and do the right thing by them. He was an easy sell to the companies he now works with and has delivered a lot very quickly. A lot of these blokes take 10 years to deliver on their commercial relationships. Mike did it in six months!
I don't know exactly what I want to do after cricket finishes so I want to keep my options open and learn as much as I can. I have stressed to him, though, that the commercial side of the game should never compromise my ability to train and play well. However, it would be selling myself short if I did not explore every prospect available by virtue of the position I'm in. I want to be able to give my children every possible chance to follow their dreams as they grow up.
As I said before, it's important to make the most of opportunities when they come along. I'm conscious that my career could end at any time. But it's not just in cricket that things can change very quickly. In my role as a father, too, I am sometimes gripped by the fear that stability and good times could be impacted upon in a serious way. Every day you hear about families that have been struck by tragedy and you hope that your family won't be next. It's a sobering thought and a good reminder that, no matter how bright the future might seem, nothing can be guaranteed. Just a short time ago, our family went through an experience that emphasised that point very clearly. Everything could have changed and all our lives would be very different now. It was the most stark reminder I've yet had about how fickle success can be.
It started just after the World Cup in the West Indies. It had been an amazing few months and I could hardly have felt better about the way things had turned out. I couldn't wait to get home to the kids, and Amy, who was 26 weeks pregnant with our third child. So, as a special treat, I booked a family holiday to Fiji. The plan was to get away from everything and everyone and spend some quality, relaxing time together. It sounded perfect.
However, a day before we left, complications arose with the pregnancy. I didn't want to take any chances, so I took Amy straight to the hospital. It didn't appear to be anything overly serious, but it was concerning enough for the doctors to recommend that she stay in hospital so she could be monitored. That, of course, meant we couldn't fly or travel, ending our holiday plans.
Amy stayed in hospital for a few days and everything was fine with both her and the baby. In the meantime, I became Mr Mum, which meant running around like crazy trying to keep the kids in check. How Amy does it, I'll never know. It gave me a much greater appreciation of what she has to contend with while I'm away.
For the next five days, while Amy was in hospital, things seemed to settle down. Eventually the doctors said she might as well go home and take it easy and a couple more days went by without incident. However, on the fourth night, the Saturday, that all changed and we had to call an ambulance to rush Amy back to the hospital. Amy was remarkably composed, while I was panicking. I was so worried about Amy and was convinced we'd lost our baby. Thankfully, the doctors were able to trace the root of the problem, there was little to worry about. However, we were advised that Amy should stay in hospital for as long as possible to give the baby every chance to keep growing before the delivery. We didn't have to wait long. Within a few days, and in a flurry of drama, little Molly was born. She was just 28 weeks and 3 days old and weighed only two pounds and six ounces. Her head was barely the size of a tennis ball. I was relieved that my wife and our baby were safe, but it was obvious that the Husseys had a tough road ahead. It could have been a lot worse.
It was later explained to us that, had we been away in Fiji, as we were supposed to be the day after the initial problem arose â or even just a short distance from home â we definitely would have lost Molly and there was a strong chance that Amy would have been in mortal danger too. Also incredibly lucky was the fact that the ultrasound doctor was on duty the weekend Molly was delivered. Had he not been, we would have had to wait until the Monday for a scan to discover Amy needed emergency surgery. According to the medical advice we received, that would have been too late.
It had all happened so quickly and it was so hard to take everything in. In just a few short moments one Saturday afternoon my entire life could have been completely turned upside down. I could have lost my wife, my baby and I would have had two little children to bring up alone. My cricket career would have been over, for sure. It made me realise just how much you have to
enjoy every moment of your time on this earth. To think how much my life â and the lives of my most loved ones â could have changed in just the blink of an eye shook me up in a big way. I still get chills when I reflect on it. Trying to digest the unthinkable is not easy.
With the crisis over, we were able to start focusing on nursing Molly to health. She had to stay in hospital for the next two months which was difficult for all of us, particularly Amy, who went in three or four times a day to feed Molly, yet night after night had to leave the hospital without her newborn baby. Amy was very stoic, but we both knew there was no choice. As for me, I would try to get there each day for a cuddle with Molly and to try to form a bond. Each time I was there it was so nice because it was the only time that Amy and I could be together with Molly and we'd sit there and chat about our day and plan for the next. The other two kids would be looked after by one set of grandparents or some friends and Amy and I would just chat in peace for an hour or so and be with Molly.
But even in such a private situation I was reminded of what my life has become and to what extent it will never be the same. We were often interrupted by someone asking me to sign a shirt or a hat or bat, which might not sound like a big deal, but I couldn't help feeling it was a little bit inappropriate. I never knocked anyone back, but after a while I had a quiet word to the staff about it.
Fame is a peculiar thing. I got a taste of it in the early days, even when I was playing first-class only. Perth is quite a small town and people would often recognise me. However, back then, it was only really cricket fans who would approach me. I think the World Cup was the big turning point. Since then, I've noticed that many people in the street know who I am. Suddenly, it's not just cricket people, but everybody. It's not something that sits very well with me and, in fact, it makes me feel a little bit uncomfortable. The thing that probably irks me most is that it puts the people I'm with in an awkward position. I've been out for dinner with Amy and people have stared at her simply because she was with me. Amy is quite a shy person and I don't like that she is made to feel uncomfortable when we're trying to have a pleasant night out. One time I went out for a meal with Amy and her parents and some friends. It was quite embarrassing because I had people coming up to me asking if I could sign plates and have photos taken with them. We just wanted to have dinner! What I'm saying is probably quite hard to accept for some people, especially cricket fans. I don't want to sound ungrateful for my profile. It gives me a whole lot of pleasure to be able to make people happy by speaking with them, or signing something or whatever. I know that when I was a kid I would get excited about seeing a big-time cricketer, so it's great to be able to repay the compliment for a youngster now. In addition, I also have that fear, as I've discussed throughout this book, of letting people down or having them speak badly of me. This is a really important point for me. I don't want to give people a bad impression and have them go off and tell a dozen of their mates that I'm unfriendly or rude. Information like that gets around like wildfire and I don't want anyone to ever have negative connotations about me.
