“When pros come and play for provincial teams you can see the influence they have and how they pass on their experience. It’s a great recipe for cricket development.” – Andrew Hudson
Telford Vice / Cape Town
WHAT would Malcolm do? Cricket people in KwaZulu-Natal still ask the question of themselves and each other even though Malcom Marshall played his last game for their team more than 28 years ago. The impact the West Indies great has outlived even him: he died, of colon cancer, in Bridgetown in November 1999; seven months after his 41st birthday.
Marshall’s memory has lasted longer than what he came to do in South Africa. Overseas professionals have disappeared from the highest level of the domestic game in the country, a consequence of changing economic and political realities. With the pros has gone a wealth of experience and positive influence.
Provincial cricket, already systematically weakened by being denied the services of the best players it produces from its own talent pool once those players become established at international level, is all the poorer for the foreigners’ removal from the equation.
Errol Stewart had the privilege of keeping to Marshall and being captained by him in some of the 76 first-class and list A matches the West Indian played in South Africa from October 1992 to March 1996. “He was a consummate professional,” Stewart told Cricbuzz. “It was a continual striving to win, to try and get better all the time. He didn’t accept mediocrity.”
Marshall captained the Durban-based team in 17 first-class matches, of which they won nine and lost only two. They were unbeaten under his leadership in 1994/95, when they claimed any version of the title in the format — black, white or unified — for the first time in 14 seasons. The Marshall plan had lasting effects: they were champions again in 1996/97, the summer after he left.
It wasn’t all about the big picture. “There were two guys in my career who I kept to who knew what they were doing with the ball,” Stewart said. “One was Shaun Pollock and the other was Malcolm Marshall. If they bowled a ball down the leg side I’d give them the teapot because they almost never used to do that.
“Macco would bowl into the wind, and the north-easterly can pump at Kingsmead. He wouldn’t look for the easy option despite being 36 or 37. He felt his skills were good enough to swing it either way, and the wind assisted him with that, and he wanted to maximise the pace of Pollock, [Lance] Klusener and [Ross] Veenstra.”
But the fire that earned Marshall 376 wickets at 20.94 in 81 Tests, the last of them more than a year before he turned up at Kingsmead, burned still. Stewart recalled him having the pace and the gumption to bounce Adrian Kuiper, a renowned puller and hooker: “It hit Kuiper on the head and went for six.”
Even so, it was as a mentor that Marshall left his most indelible mark. “I didn’t keep all the time, and I remember taking three catches at short leg when Lance Klusener took seven wickets,” Stewart said. “Macco’s attitude to Lance, who until he arrived bowled line and length and tried to swing it, was for him to whack it in. ‘No drives, man! No drives!’ That’s when Lance became a shock bowler.”
Between the 1999 World Cup and an ODI quadrangular in Kenya, Stewart said, “Zulu came down to the nets one day and bowled for three hours without stopping. The first hour he bowled with a brand new ball, the second hour with a ball that was about 40 or 50 overs old, and the final hour with something that was like a piece of soap. I ascribe that to the work ethic Malcolm Marshall would have instilled.”
That blueprint went beyond what happened on the field: “When I started I would practise my batting in running shoes. Macco arrived and said you’ve got to prepare the way you’re going to play. Everybody started batting in their spikes, and replicating what they were going to do in the game. You can’t underestimate that kind of stuff.
“He was fiercely competitive, but off the field he enjoyed a beer and some rum and he was very happy to impart his knowledge to younger players. I learnt a lot sitting in the dressingroom after the day’s play and listening to his stories. He was very generous with his time and his information.”
And he might never have come to Durban: “He was going to go to Transvaal. Eddie Barlow was the coach there and he said, ‘He’s finished. I don’t want him.’ In our first [first-class] match we played with Macco against Transvaal, at the Wanderers, he took a five-for [6/45]. I remember the delivery he bowled to James Teeger. He came around the wicket, and the ball pitched around leg stump, swung beautifully and clipped the top of off. Dennis Carlstein, our manager, was a former Transvaal manager and his big game was to beat them. He told Malcolm that if he got a five-for against Transvaal he would buy him a gold chain. And he did. Thank goodness Eddie Barlow said he was washed up.”
Batters also benefitted from Marshall’s South Africa stint. “He was a breath of fresh air, the nicest guy,” Andrew Hudson said. “And he was interested in developing youngsters. He could perform when he needed to but was very accommodating and always teaching guys the tricks of the trade. Lance and Shaun developed massively with Malcolm. When pros come and play for provincial teams you can see the influence they have and how they pass on their experience. It’s a great recipe for cricket development.”
Desmond Haynes’ memory shines as brightly at Western Province, for whom he played 47 first-class and list A matches from October 1994 to March 1997. Haynes was signed by Arthur Turner, who was chief executive of the WP Cricket Association from 1993 to 2004 and has since become a player agent. “Arthur still talks about the fantastic impact Desmond Haynes had, and the influence he had on the careers of guys like Herschelle Gibbs, HD Ackerman and Jacques Kallis,” Francois Brink, Turner’s agency partner, said.
Other overseas professionals had come during the apartheid era, often after going home in disgrace for being part of rebel tours to South Africa. They included, among others, Australians Kim Hughes and Carl Rackemann, and West Indians Alvin Kallicharran, Sylvester Clarke, Collis King, Eldine Baptiste, Hartley Alleyne, Franklyn Stephenson and Emmerson Trotman.
“Their contribution was invaluable,” Klusener said. “Don’t forget that when we grew up we couldn’t play international cricket. So we had these stars, who had performed everywhere on the planet, coming to help us win games. As much as Malcolm delivered for us here, Desmond did the same for Western Province. They brought a hands-on way to grow.”
The Caribbeans also brought the inconvenient truth of black excellence to a society that had subjugated the massive black majority of its population. Now succeeding generations of their players are being denied those opportunities, partly because of efforts to correct apartheid’s evil.
When Marshall came to Durban, one US dollar would buy between two and three South African rand. Currently a dollar fetches between 18 and 19 rand. South Africa’s provincial unions are on financial life support provided by CSA, which is itself far from economically sound. There is no money to spend on overseas professionals in most provinces. On top of that, the global cricket industry has changed — T20 leagues offer players exponentially higher earnings for an exponentially lower workload than they would have in a full season for a province.
“Guys are saving themselves for the leagues,” Stewart said. “They don’t want to come out here and run in hard and put their bodies under pressure for months. And there’s no point bringing an up-and-coming overseas player because we want to develop our own cricketers. The money generated goes towards looking after them, and rightly so.”
CSA’s transformation policies are perceived as another obstacle, because the overseas pro would take one of the maximum of five places in provincial XIs that can be given to white players. “Even if you get a player from West Indies, India or Pakistan, it won’t take up one of the other six places,” Brink, the player agent, said. “The problem for CSA is whether you allow provinces to do that, or whether the transformation policies are the higher cause. The bigger cause is still to give more players opportunities. As a result you sacrifice the overseas player, and that’s why the appetite for them is no longer there.
“Wouldn’t it be better to make it five players of colour and have the sixth as an overseas player? Instead of giving the guys you’re trying to bring through six spots, wouldn’t they learn more if you have a recently retired international player — someone like Alastair Cook — sharing his experience and passing on his knowledge? When I speak to agents in England, they say there are lots of their players who would be keen to come to South Africa. It’s not a lack of willingness from that side. It’s more about what we want to achieve in South Africa.”
For Klusener, now a coach, balancing the transformation numbers is less important than what the return of overseas professionals could achieve: “We need to look beyond that. The value that these guys bring and the growth for players of colour, and everybody, would be worth so much more than missing out on one spot.”
For Stewart, now a banker, lack of funding was the bigger issue: “Let’s say Ben Stokes was going to come. You’d be very happy because he would impart enormous value. But you just don’t have the money washing around. In the past you would have corporate support to sponsor players or maybe provide cars and accommodation. They’re not involved anymore.”
Imagine how much players of the stature of Marshall, Haynes, Cook and Stokes would mean to a domestic first-class system that has been graced by Kagiso Rabada in just two matches in the past nine years. What could giants like Malcolm, Desmond, Alastair and Ben do?
Cricbuzz
Bulletproof Truth 