Cameron Duodu
LETTER FROM THE NORTH
In India, they called him “Marshall Law”. And with good reason. In a Test match at Kanpur in 1983, he took four wickets in each innings. And made 92 with the bat in an innings.
An Indian cricket fan vividly remembers the two newspaper headlines that described the event 16 years ago: “On the first day, Malcolm Marshall skittled us [India] out, and one newspaper [if I remember right it was the Indian Express] gave this headline: ‘Marshall Law in Kanpur!’ – and this in a country where martial law doesn’t stand a chance.
“Believe it or not, another headline followed a few days later: ‘Marshall Law continues in Kanpur!’ He had us wiped out in the match.”
Fans of home teams tend not to remember humiliations of their sides by foreigners. So the extravagant nature of this Indian fan’s memorial to Marshall’s feat, and the fact that he took the trouble to send it as a tribute to Marshall on the West Indies cricket website, make it truly significant.
But one shouldn’t be surprised, really, for you see, Marshall evoked that type of loyalty – one that cut across races, continents and local rivalries.
What was it about Marshall that made people love him so much? There were two aspects to him that were immensely attractive – one physical, the other spiritual. As fast bowlers go, Marshall’s physique gave absolutely no hint of the greatness that was enshrined in every sinew of his body.
His friend and colleague, Colin Croft, recalls a funny incident that occurred when the West Indies team arrived in Australia for the Test series of 1979/80: “As we arrived at Sydney airport the press were in full force. Everyone had heard of Marshall. However, none of the press could find him.
“He was there all right, but everyone thought he was much too small to be a fast bowler. Perhaps the most amusing sports photograph I have seen was one featured on the front page of a Sydney newspaper.
“There was Michael Holding and Andy Roberts, both about 1,92m, on the right. On the left were the 1,95m-plus frames of Joel Garner and Colin Croft. In the middle was Malcolm Marshall, all 1,73m of him. He looked more like a wicketkeeper or jockey than a fast bowler. The caption read: ‘Malcolm Marshall – West Indies’ new chum’. Every West Indian player laughed at that picture.”
Because of his lithe figure, Marshall (or “Macco” as his mates called him) was quite a deadly bowler. He developed a hand and wrist action that was devastatingly quick and yet incredibly accurate. He was also deft with the ball. You could see his brain telling each ball to do something different: “You swing inwards, will you?” And to the next ball: “No, cut back, at full length.” When it worked, the batsman would still be working out what exactly he had done wrong, as he made his way back to the pavilion.
Marshall’s lethal bowling technique was enhanced by his unusual and stylish run-up. The run-up was short, but it started from what seemed to be an awkward angle from the left and then straightened up just a few feet from the crease. As he jumped, he was chest-on, yet the co-ordination of arms and legs was all so fast that you wondered how batsmen (sometimes) managed to get their eyes accustomed to the blur of movement before them.
If he took a wicket, his clenched fist would punch the air stylishly skywards. If he failed, he’d walk back, polishing the ball as if he was talking to it with his thigh. That walk of his must have aroused the envy of professional cat-walkers, as they wondered how so much grace could be conjured out of so little effort.
But it was Marshall’s face that told the real story of his personality. His large eyes were always brimming with self- enjoyment. Apparently, he never ever sledged opposition batsmen: he didn’t need to. He would get you out with his brain, so why should he rile you with his mouth? Besides, cricket was for enjoyment, wasn’t it? Without batsmen, there would be no great bowlers. So why be nasty to them?
You could see, then, that Marshall was a great credit to the game. He enjoyed the “high-five” conclave with his team-mates that followed the fall of a wicket. But you could see that even the departing batsman admired the sheer skill that had got him out. This is why even players like the former England captain, Mike Gatting, whose nose Marshall so badly broke in a one-day match in Jamaica in 1986 that Gatting is alleged to have had to pick pieces of bone from the ball – couldn’t help admiring him.
Two entries in the Wisden Cricket Almanack of 1992 sum up Marshall’s greatness:
(a) Most wickets in a series: MD Marshall, 5 Tests, 33 wickets for 443 runs, Average: 12,65 (West Indies vs England 1988), and
(b) Most wickets in a career: West Indies MD Marshall, 81 Tests, 376 wickets, 17,584 balls, 7,8766 runs, Average 20,94, 5-wicket innings: 22; 10- wicket matches: 4
Almost Einsteinean in their simplicity, aren’t those figures? By the way, that average of Marshall’s – 20,94 – compares to 22,29 attained by Sir Richard Hadlee of New Zealand; 22,76 by Imran Khan of Pakistan and 23,92 by Dennis Lillee of Australia.
Marshall was the greatest, even though Courtney Walsh – who has played more Tests – has now wrenched the record for the greatest number of Test wickets taken for the West Indies from him. May he have a ball in heaven.