In Quebec, 2022 will be remembered as the year when two sporting heroes left us: Guy Lafleur and Mike Bossy. But if you take a global poll, after the legendary Pelé, there’s a good chance that it’s the Australian Shane Warne who tops the list of the great missing from the sports scene.
The name does not come back to you or does it only evoke a rather vague memory?
Not surprising. Warne shone in cricket, a sport unknown to us, but which has millions of fans and players, particularly in Asia and Oceania. It was a New Zealand friend who explained to me how Warne held a special place, both a sports legend and a real rock star.
Died of a heart attack at the age of 52, at the beginning of March in Thailand, he was entitled to a national funeral in Australia and ceremonies took place all over the world during major cricket events.
Warne built his legend by perfectly mastering the leg spin bowling, a way to throw the ball with enormous spin, which allowed him to count no less than 708 wickets in 145 international Tests during a 15-year career at the highest level. He is beaten in this chapter only by Muttiah Muralitharan, of Sri Lanka (800 wickets), but his fame remains unequaled.
When it debuted for the national team in 1992, cricket was dominated by fastball throwers (pace bowling), which literally terrorized the hitters. Warne has reintroduced the subtle art of leg spin.
It was with a truly mind-blowing throw – since known as “The Ball of the Century” – that he burst onto the international scene on June 4, 1993, in Manchester, Great Britain.
On his debut in ‘The Ashes’, a prestigious series of matches between Australia and England, Warne found himself ahead of England veteran Mike Gatting, a player renowned as one of the best at handling the ball in Indeed, who intended to show this young “cocky” who was the boss.
Wind-bleached blond hair, nose and mouth smeared in sunscreen – an image he’s tried to maintain throughout his career – Warne took off. The ball went first to the right and Gatting moved slightly to protect the wicket. On hitting the ground, however, the ball suddenly veered to the left to avoid the batter and reverse the wicket. In disbelief, Gatting stared for a long time at where the ball had bounced, then at the wicket behind him.
“He has no idea what just happened,” said Richie Benaud, the “voice” of cricket in Australia, which can be heard on the video of the match.
In an interview a few years after his retirement, Warne explained: “This ball of the century was a fluke, really. It was also a twist of fate and I never did it again. A pitcher like me [leg spinner] always dreams of hitting that perfect shot; I got it right the first time and it changed my life, both on and off the pitch. »
Perfect or not, hundreds of other players fell victim to Warne’s throws over the next few years and in his final season, in December 2006, it was a similar throw that earned him his 700e wicket, at his home in Melbourne, in front of the famous English hitter Andrew Strauss.
In fact, Warne’s real genius was arguably his science of cricket, his way of constantly juggling spin, targets, to keep batters off balance and surprise them, at the right time, with what was then the “perfect throw”.
Named as one of the five best players of the XXe century, he also made his mark after retiring as a television commentator, where his colorful analyzes lit up matches.
And he never hesitated to pass on his knowledge to young players, inspiring a whole generation of leg spinners which in turn helps to make cricket a living sport.
Some will be surprised that Warne has remained immensely popular despite serious misconduct, a suspension for doping in particular, shady relationships with bettors too. And his private life has not been easy, with his highly publicized relationship with actress Liz Hurley on the one hand, but also numerous scandals on the other.
But he was a “larger than life” character, as many of his former teammates and opponents pointed out after his death, who revolutionized his sport while transcending it. This is how he was able to embody a certain image that Australians have of themselves, a bit like Guy Lafleur did for many Quebecers.