On August 27, 1908, Donald George Bradman, who was to become the wonder man of cricket, was born in the New South Wales country town of Cootamundra. Before he was three years old his parents moved to Bowral, in the Blue Mountains.
Youngest of a family of five, four years separated him from his only brother, so he was, as it were, an odd one out when it came to a matter of shared interests and amusements. At borne there were no children of his own age with whom to play, so he had to use his ingenuity to invent games he could play alone.
From his earliest years a ball was the centre of Don Bradman's playtime; it mattered not whether it were a cricket, golf, tennis or football. His most constant game, however, was an improvised one of cricket. This he played with one stump used as a bat, and a golf ball which he threw against a brick wall and struck on the rebound, a feat requiring an extraordinary co-ordination of eye and muscle. He devised means by which he could declare himself to have hit a boundary or to have been caught out. Often he imagined sides for his match, naming his players after the great cricketers of the day.
Even at school there was no real cricket field, but the boys used to manage a game with such primitive appliances as a bell-post marked with chalk for the wicket, and gum tree sticks as bats. The first match in which Bradman played was when he was eleven, on the football field of Glebe Park, Bowral, where there is now a beautiful cricket field bearing the name -The Bradman Oval." The match began inauspiciously for Don's team, as a left-handed bowler dismissed their two opening batsmen with his first two balls. Nervously the lad went In to bat, expecting to see the hat-trick accomplished at the expense of his wicket, but he survived the initial attack, and went on to score fifty-five runs.
Although in all sports at the country school up-to-date facilities were lacking, the boys managed by their ingenuity to devise means for overcoming their absence. While a scholar at Bowral, Bradman played for his school in cricket, tennis and Rugby League football teams, and also won the hundred yards, two hundred yards, quarter mile and half mile races. His interests in school work itself centred round mathematics and science.
One of the greatest joys of the boy's life was to be allowed to act as scorer for the Bowral men's cricket team, of which his uncle was captain. This occupation was to give him his first chance of playing in senior cricket. He was only thirteen at the time, and still in short pants, and the team was playing at Moss Vale, six miles from home. One of the men failed to show up, so Don's uncle was faced with the alternative of either going on the field with a man short, or of including his nephew. He decided on the latter course, and Bradman justified his decision by scoring thirty-seven in the first innings, and twenty-nine not out in the second.
In recognition of his ability as a cricketer, a member of the Bowral team gave the boy an old and cracked bat as a present This his father sawed down to a more suitable size. The same year Don saw two days' play in the Fifth Test Match between Australia and England on the Sydney Cricket Ground. It was an experience which made him reach the final decision that cricket would be his game above all others, and as he left the oval with his father he declared he would never be satisfied until he played there himself. At seventeen Bradman became a regular member of the Bowral team, many of the players of which were in their forties. It was while with this team he met Bill O'Reilly, the future famous bowler, for the first time and also distinguished himself sufficiently for his name to reach the cricket "powers-that-be" in Sydney.
Highlights in his first season's play with Bowral occurred in two matches. In the first, in which O'Reilly was playing with Wingello, the opposing team, Bowral was finding it hard to stand up against the wizard bowler, but Bradman was too good for him and finished the day with 234 not out. Unfortunately, on the next Saturday when the match was resumed, he was dismissed first ball round the leg by O'Reilly. The young batsman's score attracted a certain amount of attention, but the final match of the season was even more sensational. In it Bradman distinguished himself by totalling over three hundred runs and taking four wickets for thirty-nine. His fine record brought a letter from the N.S.W. Cricket Association at the opening of the next season asking him to attend for practice at the Sydney Cricket Ground on 11th October, 1928.
Nothing could have kept Don away from that practice, and carrying with him his dearest possession, a bat which his mother had given him, he made the journey to the city for the try-out. Cricketers and Press critics were alike impressed by the young player, and he was offered a place in the St. George team, one of the first grade clubs. He accepted, of course. VVhat did it matter to him that to play he had to rise before dawn and catch the six a.m. train from Bowral? He would have done the journey had it taken twice as long.
The following year Bradman was chosen as 12th man to represent New South Wales. It was perhaps fortunate for the team that Archie Jackson developed a boil on the knee while in Adelaide, so that Don had to take his place on the field. It was his initiation into first-class cricket, and a worthy one, too, for he scored 118 in the first innings. Not very long afterwards, however, he was playing for New South Wales against Queensland, on the Sydney Cricket Ground, and was clean bowled by the opening ball—his first duck in first-class cricket.
The season ended with Bradman having played in the New South Wales team against Victoria. South Australia and Queensland. He had learned much by the experience. Ile knew now more about the differences to be found in bowlers and wickets, and he had also determined that attack was the best means of defence for a batsman.
He was at this time cherishing the hope that he might be selected for the Australian team to play New Zealand, but he was disappointed. His omission, however, decided him to move to Sydney, where he could have constant practice on a turf pitch, which was impossible in the country. His purpose was to gain selection in the team for the 1928-29 Tests against England, to be played in Australia. He gained his ambition, but the Tests opened disastrously for Australia. The first of the series was won by England with a margin of 675 runs. Bradman's score was low, and he had his first experience of playing on a sticky wicket. He was relegated to the position of 12th man in the Second Test, and, although he did not bat, fielded during the match in place of Ponsford, a bone in whose hand was broken by a hit from a ball. Don was brought back into the team for the Third Test and he redeemed his good name by scoring 79 and 112, not a sufficient total, however, to prevent Australia from losing as in the two previous ones. The Fourth Test was far closer, with England gaining a win by the narrow margin of twelve runs. But the Fifth Test was won by Australia, her only win in the series, a success which resulted from the fine play by the younger members of the eleven, Jackson, Fairfax, Wall. Hornibrook and Bradman.
Don finished the season with a total of 1690 runs in first-class cricket, an aggregate which still stands as a record for one season in Australian cricketing history. The 1929-30 season was also one of records for him. In a match between Ryder's Eleven and Woodfull's Eleven he was closing batsman for the latter team with a score of 124. Woodfull's Eleven was forced to follow on, as the opposition had the magnificent total of 663 in their first innings. Bradman was put in as opening batsman and knocked up 205 before play closed. This meant he had made a century and a double century in the one day. Another record was a world one which still stands, a total of 452 runs not out in a Sheffield Shield match against Queensland. The former holder of the world record, Bill Ponsford, sent him a telegram after this achievement: "Congratulations on your great feat—a batsman of your ability deserves the honor."
Don Bradman's position was now assured in any Australian team, but there were many who were troubled by the unorthodox manner in which he held his bat and executed his strokes. Amongst them was Maurice Tate, who suggested tactfully that to do well in England he must play with a straighter bat. Bradman gave his advice, and that of others, his full consideration, for he knew that his habit of using a cross-bat, for instance, was risky, but he also knew his methods got results, so in the end he decided to stick to them.
In 1930 Bradman was included in the Australian Eleven for England, and the series of five Tests, which resulted in the bringing back of the Ashes, was a memorable one for him. To begin with, he gained much knowledge and experience; he learnt that English wickets behave differently from Australian ones, and that they could change their character during a match. Then he distinguished himself throughout the tour by his con of the bowlers concerned, and Jardine, the captain of the English Eleven, to be a fast leg bowling theory. The theory was designed, primarily, as an effective attack against Bradman at what was considered the weakest spot in his batting. To use Jardine's own words, he "was far from convincing on the leg stump whilst there was any life in the wicket." Several men were injured, including Oldfield and Woodfull, in these Tests, and feeling on both sides ran high. Bradman did not play in the first one on account of ill-health, but in the Second Test he was bowled first ball by Bowes for a duck in the first innings, but reached his century in the second. The remaining Tests continued unhappily, with all concerned glad when they were over.
Bradman felt the strain of the season greatly and also the necessity for continuing his business life and cricket at the same time. Further, his contract in Sydney was running to its close, and he decided it would be better if his business life in future was not tied up in any way with cricket. He was. therefore, grateful when a member of the Cricket Board of Control offered him a position in his stock-broking business in Adelaide, to which city Don moved in February, 1934.
He had been feeling generally unwell for some considerable time, but believed it all to be due to the strain and uncertainty of the past months. Once settled in Adelaide, however, he found his condition did not improve, and decided to consult a specialist. His trouble was diagnosed purely as a "run-down condition, and he was ordered to rest and not play any more cricket before the English tour that year, for which he had been chosen as vice-captain of the Australian Eleven.
Bradman's health was still not good when he reached England, but he steeled himself to play in the opening games, knocking up 206 in the first innings of the team's initial match of the tour, against Worcester. Although it had not been defeated by the time the Tests commenced, the Australian team had not, however, played with distinction, and the critics were unimpressed.
The First Test went to Australia when there was only ten minutes left to play. The crowd of spectators was kept back by a rope and not a picket fence. During the excitement at the end of the game they surged forward on to the field, obscuring the rope in their rush and blocking the means of exit for the players, who were eager to escape the throng. As he ran towards the dressing-room, Bradman fell and brought those
behind him down, too. His thigh was so seriously injured that he had to use a runner in the next match, and withdraw altogether from the following one.
Illness seemed to dog the Australian team throughout the earlier Tests. Several of them developed what was known as "Wimbledon throat," among the victims of which were Bradman, Chipperfield and Kippax. The last named was too ill to play, but the other two left their beds for the match and returned to them as soon as it was over. In the Fourth Test, Bradman, who made 304, was so worn out that he had to be undressed by his team mates and carried to the massage room. Later, when he was fielding, he tore a thigh muscle, was forced to enter a nursing home, and was unable to play until the Fifth Test, three weeks later.
This final Test, which resulted in a glorious victory for Australia, and the winning of the Ashes, found the Eleven once more physically fit and in top form. Bradman and Ponsford's partnership of 451 in this match created a new world record.
The visitors were back in London, preparing for the return journey home, when Don Bradman once more became ill. Specialists were called in, and, despite certain contrary symptoms, it was decided he had acute appendicitis, and an immediate operation was performed. For a time it seemed a matter of touch and go; rumors even reached Australia, and, more unfortunately, his wife, that he was dead. But, slowly Bradman bevan to regain his strength. He was ordered a long rest, and, indeed, did not leave hospital until his wife arrived in England. Thus it was not until late April. 1935, that he landed in Adelaide to start work in his new profession of stockbroking.
Don Bradman was appointed one of the selectors for the Australian Eleven for the 1936-37 Tests, and also captain. The series opened most inauspiciously for the Australians, as England won the first two matches. Such misfortune caused a great deal of criticism regarding Bradman's captaincy, and also the suggestion that the strain of the position was upsetting his play. The Third Test, however, gave the lie to this latter suggestion, for he totalled a score of 270 runs. He also exhibited brilliant tactics in this Test in the handling of the game on the Saturday when the wicket was sticky. He closed the innings at nine for two hundred, and England went in to bat. Bradman realised they were being got out too quickly, and instructed his bowlers to avoid taking wickets, if possible, so the Australians would not have to go in again that day. At nine for seventy-six the English captain, Cubby Allen, closed the innings. Bradman showed remarkable strategy by sending in a very surprised Fleetwood-Smith as opening batsman. None knew better than Fleetwood-Smith himself that he was no bat, but, as Bradman explained to him, the only way he could get out would be by hitting the ball, and in the circumstances he was very unlikely to do that. Such, in fact, proved the case, with the result that Australia's real batsmen went in on Monday on a good wicket and won the Test.
Strangely enough, it was Fleetwood-Smith who saved the Fourth Test by a magnificent ball which dismissed the Englishman, Hammond, who seemed a permanent fixture at the wicket. The Fifth Test went to Australia also, and once more the Ashes were won.
In 1938 the Australians were in England again under Brad-man's captaincy. The first two Tests were drawn, but the Third, at Leeds, was the most exciting he was ever to remember. There was a race against the weather as storm clouds banked up and a deluge of rain threatened. Wickets were already falling fast, but caution had to be thrown to the winds in order to amass sufficient runs to better the English total. Don himself was so tense with nervous excitement that for the first time in his life he could not bear to watch the match, but instead paced up and down in the dressing-room eating bread and jam and consuming quantities of tea. It was Hassett who saved the day by continuing to hat in reckless abandon until the game was won.
The Fourth Test was not played because of rain, and the Fifth went to England in an overwhelming victory. In the first innings they scored 903 for seven wickets. Bradman, to ease the strain on his overworked bowlers, took the ball himself. Unfortunately, he twisted his ankle in a hole in the ground which his predecessors had worn, and broke one of the bones, thus excluding himself from further play on the tour.
It was about this time that he began to feel the effect of captaining the team and also the concentrated playing itself. lie decided then that one more season at most would be his before he retired from the game, but there was, nevertheless, still much further to go before he would say farewell to cricket, and a World War was to intervene.
In 1940 Bradman enlisted as a member of air crew in the R.A.A.F., but his assistance was required by the Army for special work and he was transferred. The rigors of camp life brought a recurrence of the muscular trouble from which he had suffered on and off for years, and for some months he was at a convalescent camp near his old home, Bowral. a victim of fibrositis. At times the complaint was so bad that he could not even comb his own hair, and his wife had to learn to use a razor in order to shave him—a pitiful condition for a man of Bradman's enormous energy.
Back in civilian life once more all thought of cricket was far from his mind, and then, in 1945, when his condition was gradually improving, the firm for which he was working went bankrupt. His whole idea of going to South Australia had been to protect his and his family's future, and now the security on which he had planned was gone. Things looked very dark indeed. But Don was not one to admit defeat, and, in face of poor health, and with the encouragement of his wife and friends, he went into business on his own.
In December of that year he was well enough to return to cricket to play in two charity matches, but soon afterwards he was down again with a severe attack of fibrositis. It was then that a friend persuaded him to visit a Melbourne masseur. The result was so amazing that the idea began to grow in Bradman's mind that he might even be able to play against England the following year, a hope in which his wife encouraged him, saying it would be a pity if their son, John, should never see his father in a Test game. Finally, in spite of medical warnings against his doing so, Bradman agreed to play in the 1946-47 series.
In the opening game, England against South Australia, he was like a shadow of his former self. After the match one critic wrote, "I have today seen the ghost of a great cricketer, and ghosts seldom come to life."
But Bradman was to prove that his was one ghost which could live again. The days of records were not even passed for him, and with Barnes he established a new fifth wicket world record for first-class cricket in the Second Test, played at Sydney. The Ashes were retained by the Australians, who won four of the Tests and drew the other.
By the year 1947, Bradman had scored ninety-nine centuries in first-class cricket, and his ambition was naturally to reach the 100th century before he should retire. It seemed fairly obvious that this end would be achieved, but he had set his heart on making this particular century on his favorite pitch, that of the Sydney Cricket Ground. His opportunity came in a match
against the Indian Eleven. Keith Miller was partnering him in the innings, and did all he could to help ensure that Don should succeed in his desire. The tension of the occasion made Bradman over-anxious and careful, not at all like his usual style of play, so that the score mounted slowly, especially after he had reached ninety. At ninety-nine a new bowler was put on against him, and Bradman took every precaution until he felt safe to hit the ball to mid-on for a single. The cheers of the spectators were tumultuous, and members of the Australian Eleven, led by Miller, rushed to shake hands with the great batsman. After the century had been reached, he threw away discretion, and batting with enthusiasm, knocked up another seventy-one in forty-five minutes.
On the eve of the Fifth Test against India, Bradman informed the Press that he would be available for selection for the Australian Eleven to tour England, but that after that he would retire from cricket.
Bradman's farewell tour of England in 1948 was for him a happy one; everywhere the English crowds, but especially at Leeds, and in the final Test, gave him a terrific ovation. In the latter the opposing fieldsmen gathered round him when he came out to bat, gave him three cheers, and wished him future luck, while the crowd rose as one man to greet him, and groaned with dismay when he was dismissed for a duck.
On his fortieth birthday Bradman passed his 2000 runs for the tour in a match against the Gentlemen of England, which made him the only Australian to have scored 2000 runs in each of four tours of England. At the end of the game the public massed in front of the pavilion singing "Happy Birthday" and "Auld Lang Syne." On the tour the Australian Eleven, under Bradman's captaincy, had not lost a single match, although eight had been drawn.
Bradman was to play again in first-class cricket in Australia, but only at testimonial matches of farewell. On the 1st January, 1949, this magnificent sportsman was created a knight in the New Year's Honors List. Time will continue to move on, other great cricketers will arise, but it will be many decades, if ever, before Sir Donald Bradman ceases to be the hero of every cricketer, young or old, in Australia or oversea.
