Growing up in north east Victoria during the 1970s and 1980s, I probably epitomised the parochial perspective that ‘C’mon Aussie C’mon’ was attempting to recruit.
Upon reflection however, it wasn’t some catchy jingle that drew me in; it ultimately was the cricket, in particular Test cricket. I idolised the great Dennis Lillee, yet it was the reckless attitude of Roy Fredericks that sold me as a nine-year-old.
I witnessed Alvin Kallicharran make a ton a year later on Australian soil, which confirmed my opinion that cricket is the greatest sport on the planet.
World Series Cricket emerged later that year and although I was only 250 kilometres from Melbourne, it was a world away. No coverage where I lived. We just saw the teams playing diluted Test cricket, with old mate Bob Simpson at 41 playing England.
Looking back nigh on 45 years later it was brilliant. I got to see a young bloke for Australia named Border forge a brilliant career, and I also saw a bloke asleep at the crease for England named Gower make runs like he was shelling peas (someone ought to poke him with a stick, I thought).
Allan Border. (Photo by Adrian Murrell/Getty Images)
My earliest cricket memories ultimately involved Australia, West Indies and England. Not a bad thing at all. The Ashes were enveloped in history; the Centenary Test played out before my eyes as a ten-year-old – magnificent stuff. The West Indies emerged as arguably the best side ever, their reign lasting the best part of a decade and a half.
I will never forget Border’s frustration in the early 90s after that Test in Adelaide (1993, I reckon). After 1992 with the emergence of Warne and McGrath, as well as the solidified batting line-up, things changed. Australia imposed themselves; personally, I loved it. I spent my formative years watching Australia get spanked senseless by all and sundry. Suddenly, they were one of the best sides ever.
I never felt sorry for England between 1989 and 2005.
With the emergence of Sachin Tendulkar in the late 80s and early 90s, India started to exert influence. My connection with India began in 1990. I was backpacking through India in January 1990. I happened to be in Bombay (Mumbai as it is now) and there was a massive crowd near the bus station. There were a couple of kids batting in the nets just off the main thoroughfare.
The locals were beside themselves talking these blokes up. Seriously, as I drew forward, both looked like they were twelve years old at the most. At the time they looked very solid. The locals were raving ‘the next Sunny’, meanwhile I’m laughing to myself thinking ‘you poor deluded souls’. One of those kids was Vinod Kambli, the other was Sachin Tendulkar. Fool me.
35 years later, I have witnessed India impose themselves as the eminent cricket force. I watched in awe at the 2001 Test series as Australia toured India and played out the hardest, most intriguing series I have ever seen. It was two sides at the peak of their powers, barely anything between them, just wonderful stuff. The last decade has seen some of the most interesting cricket conducted between the two nations.
So here I am in late 2024. I am a father and a grandfather. My son-in-law is Indian and my grandson is half Indian. My allegiance to Australia has waned significantly – don’t get me wrong I want Australia to win, but having spent time in both countries, I have a soft spot for both.
I love Indian culture, I love my extended Indian family. If you had said to me in 1975 that my sheltered life in provincial Victoria would be opened up to the extent of embracing another culture let alone empathising with another cricket culture, I would have dead set laughed at you.
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