These are the things you don't forget

My earliest and most impressionable recollection of international cricket was something I shall never forget. At age thirteen I was a cricket propeller-head. I could not get enough of it and like every Australian schoolboy, was mesmerized by the ferociousness of Dennis Keith Lillee. The Poms were on tour in the mid seventies and this was as serious as war. The Aussies, even in those days, were uncompromising, never ever took a step back and were single mindedly led by my hero Ian Chappell. I was always him when batting on the beach or the backyard, hooking to my heart’s content and breaking the odd window along the way with perfectly timed pull shots.

The 5th Test at Adelaide oval between the cricketing powerhouses was a must. I had to carefully plan my strategy so that I could watch a day’s play live. Normally not much of a problem but the day I had chosen to go, the third day’s play, was no ordinary day – it was a school day. My best mate, who always fancied himself as a bit of a Max Walker in the backyard, had devised the perfect plan. We would both head out from our respective homes with schoolbags laden with the previous night’s homework giving our parents the impression that we were off for another day of mind numbing lessons. We would rendezvous at the train station just around the corner and grab the next express train to town. A fifteen-minute walk from the last stop would find us at our final destination, Adelaide Oval. The plan was a simple one but like all good thriller movies had one final hurdle at the end that could have had serious consequences if ignored. My dad sold tickets at the entrance to the ground during Tests as an extra job so that provided a spine tingling, potentially backside throbbing for weeks, (pardon the pun) sting in the tail!

Phase one was accomplished with ease. We were on the train after only an anxious twelve minute wait on the platform. We only had enough hard earned pocket money for two tickets into the ground so it was time to play ‘dodge the conductor’. Following years of strategic training at this exercise we were pretty good so as you can imagine this did not pose any problem for us highly skilled special agents.

Our fifteen-minute walk turned into a ten minute excited skip to the hallowed arena and in a freak moment of luck we discovered a delivery entrance unlocked and dashed through the gate and found ourselves at the back of the members stand. Imagine the flashes of emotion as we realized instantly that we had saved our entrance fee and could now afford a pie and coke for lunch and even a milkshake on the way home at the train station. We had also escaped my father’s beady eyes and were about to get the best seats available. What a plan, what a day.

We sat down rather hurriedly in the first available seats. We were constantly looking over our shoulders for one of the officials, or worse still my dad, to grab us both by the scruff of the neck and turf us out. I didn’t happen. We could not believe our luck. Our eyes were fixed on the startling figure of Dennis Lillee screaming in from the Cathedral end at full throttle. What a sight. What a sight that is if your name is not Dennis Amiss who was the intended target 22 yards away. It didn’t get much better than this.

Then in the third over of the day it happened. Lillee bowled a ferocious bouncer to Amiss who gloved it and it flew quickly towards my hero Ian Chappell. He then leapt into the air to his right and plucked a screamer at full stretch. We were besides ourselves with joy that we had witnessed this sensational dismissal live. To cap it off it was my hero who snared a pom. For the rest of the day we were on cloud nine.

I will never forget that day or that catch.

During the 1st Standard Bank game on Friday at the Wanderers I will never forget Jonty’s catch either.

To date it is the best I have seen.