They were not known for their cricketing prowess alone. Off-spinner Mallett did a good amount of coaching in Australia, England and Sri Lanka and became the most prolific writer of cricket books in his country (no less than 27 in number). Premier all-rounder Davidson got involved in cricket promotions that included organising events, and leg-spinner Philpott got immersed in coaching.

Mallett, who passed away battling cancer, is remembered by Indian cricket followers as the man who was Australia’s bowling hero on the 1969-70 tour of this country; his 28 wickets playing a significant role in the tourists’ 3-1 series victory. The enormity of the feat is manifest in the fact that Australia couldn’t win a series on Indian turf for another 35 years.

Poll

Who will win the Punjab Elections?

BJP 32.76%

AAP 43.10%

INC 24.14%

Submit

View All In Poll

Mallett was no blower of his own trumpet. He was nicknamed Rowdy not because he was loud and boastful, but because he was just the opposite. He took success and failure in his stride and first retired from cricket in 1975-76 to pursue a career in journalism. He wrote for The News.

When Kerry Packer launched World Series Cricket in 1977, Mallett thought about returning to the game. He got on the phone to his South Australian mate Ian Chappell, who was appointed Australia’s captain for the unofficial series, and asked him if he had a place for him in his team. Chappell had to check with Packer and when he did, the business tycoon didn’t warm up to the idea. “I’m not paying money to that f''k''g straight-breaker,” Packer apparently said, as mentioned in Mallett’s 2005 book on Chappell. Packer, though, kept a window open: Adelaide-based Mallett would have to fly down to Sydney and bowl an over to him. If Packer succumbed to the off-spinner’s guile, he’d get a contract. When Chappell relayed Packer’s ‘offer’ to Mallett, he got this for an answer: “Tell Mr Packer to get f''k'd.”

Meanwhile, Mallett got a call from Sir Don Bradman who asked if he was keen on coming out of retirement to be part of Bob Simpson’s rookie pack to face India in 1977-78. Mallett wanted an assurance that he would play all five Tests just like Simpson. When Bradman said that he wouldn’t be able guarantee that, Mallett asked if the Australian Cricket Board would match a probable offer from Packer. No again, said the cricket legend. Mallett promised Bradman to think about his offer, but two days later, a contract from WSC came along and Mallett signed for AUD 20,000 for the first year. Did Chappell relay that expletive-filled message to Packer? “I didn’t think your telling him that would have served your best interest,” Chappell told his mate.

Mallett’s first-class cricket ended in 1980-81, after which he got further bitten by the writing bug. A copy of his second book, Spin Out, is in front of me as I write this. The chapter on the 1969-70 tour dwelled on all the inconveniences the Australian team endured. But it had its funny bits. Like how the team used to yell “juldi, juldi” to the various drivers of their team buses. The riot at the Brabourne Stadium took up a few pages. It’s an incident which provided Mallett one of his best anecdotes from the tour. Amidst violent scenes and burning stands, the Australians found refuge in one of the larger residential rooms at the Cricket Club of India, occupied by manager Fred Bennett and wicketkeeper Brian Taber. Their bathtub was filled with beer. Suddenly, Bennett yelled (as quoted in Mallett’s 2008 book on Doug Walters): “Hell fellas, there are 10,000 angry people downstairs. They are going wild, threatening to tear the place apart. They all want [skipper] Bill Lawry’s head. It’s bloody frightening.” Walters played cool. With a beer can in one hand and a cigarette in the other, he said, “Hand over Bill Lawry and let’s get on with the drinking.” Luckily, the riot (caused by umpire Sambhu Pan’s dubious verdict that sent S Venkataraghavan back) abated and the Test resumed, only to be won by Australia.

Mallett wrote books on his teammates Ian Chappell, Doug Walters and Jeff Thomson, apart from legends like Victor Trumper, Neil Harvey and Clarrie Grimmett. He told me that he was planning to write a book on the great Indian spin quartet of BS Bedi, EAS Prasanna, BS Chandrasekhar and S Venkataraghavan, but sadly that didn’t come to fruition.

In 1960, when he left school in Perth, a teacher asked him what he planned to do in life. “I am going to play Test cricket and I intend on becoming a good writer,” said Mallett. “There is no money in cricket and you are hopeless at English,” the unimpressed teacher responded.

Ashley Alexander Mallett was not only a tall off-spinner. His cricketing and literary deeds were tall too.

At the start of last week, Rod Marsh, Mallett’s Australia teammate, fought hard to hold back his emotions while continuing to pay a funeral tribute to his mate. There’s some consolation, perhaps, in the fact that the week ended far more cheerfully for Australian cricket.

mid-day’s group sports editor Clayton Murzello is a purist with an open stance. He tweets @ClaytonMurzello

Send your feedback to mailbag@mid-day.com

The views expressed in this column are the individual’s and don’t represent those of the paper