Rumours were afloat that he was rather reclusive and withdrawn, so it was not without some apprehension that I considered trying to set up a meeting with him. But my anxiety, I must say was totally misplaced for he fairly jumped at the idea of meeting friends from good old Ceylon, for that is how he and the older generation Aussies like to remember that exotic Pearl of the Indian Ocean. And, I also realised that he loves Ceylon and has a soft spot for the Ceylonese. So I got hold of two of my old school buddies, Geoff Wiemman that brilliant international of Rugby fame and my old teammate Gamini Goonesena, the first Asian to captain either Cambridge or Oxford as well as score a double hundred in the Varsity match. I appeared to be the odd man out in this galaxy.
On a bright Saturday morning the three of us motored down to 47, Nullabarra Road, Newport Beach, 20 or 30 kilometres to the North of Sydney and by Jove wasn't he glad to see us?
Joyous conversationalist
Far from being retired and withdrawn he was a joyous conversationalist. He may not be in the very best of health, for he is a little frail compared to his more active days and has to rely on a 'walker' for mobility. Yet, you could see him visibly brightening up and he was beside himself recalling stories of his great cricketing days (not so much of himself), but his contemporaries, equals and peers, Don Bradman, Bert Oldfield, Bill O'Reilly, Stan McCabe, Arthur Morris, Neil Harvey, his old partner in crime Ray Lindwall, and others. Anecdote after anecdote of those palmier days tumbled one upon the other and we could see the glint in his eye as he unfolded stories of those great days. And we sat there enthralled.
He spoke of O'Reilly the bowler, who he says was the very best and Oldfield, perhaps the finest keeper of all and believe it or not, he gave us the impression that there was no animosity whatever between him and Bradman, but only a difference of opinion on how they played the game. He has a lot of regard and admiration for the Don as a player and says that for his age he is as fit as a fiddle playing if possible 2 or 3 days of golf a week.
The Ikin catch
He spoke of the famous Ikin catch when Bradman was 28 and then going on to a big hundred in his comeback Test. He says that he was padded up nervously to play his first Test innings and when it happened he quickly picked up his bat and gloves and was walking out when he realised that the Don was still at the crease and therefore he had to resume his seat. There was also the famous incident of him bowling a bouncer at Bradman at his benefit match which did not amuse Bradman and the belief was that being the greatest all-rounder in the world at that time he failed to gain selection to the team for South Africa on account of that incident. Bradman was a selector.
His wife Peggy
His wife Peggy to whom he has been married for over fifty years is an amazing lady. Being American, it has been a great partnership to have lived with an Australian cricketing legend, for I believe she still does not know much about this weird game leave alone much less having even watched it, though she is much Australian now. They live very happily and have four sons and many grandchildren. Having been treated most hospitably we were invited to partake of some lunch, but had to decline as we were running late. So after nearly three delightful hours we took our leave, he meanwhile getting us to promise that we come again.
True to our word, the Saturday before I left Gamini and I, this time joined by my son paid him another visit. When we arrived Peggy told us that Keith was not feeling too well that morning and when he came out he greeted us in the normal Aussie style of enquiring how we were getting on and then bending down he whispered in my ear ``I'll give you one bit of advice, don't get old!''
Favourite topic
Having settled down and getting back to our favourite topic we asked him about the game today. He said that he does not watch much cricket now because he does not think much about the behaviour of the players these days. He gave us the impression that though he considers Shane Warne to be a good bowler he was displeased to see him put on the same pedestal as O'Rielly. He says that most top batsmen have worked him out and he does not bowl the googly as well as he did. I think he was not a little amused when one of his sons had rung him that morning and told him of the mauling he had got from Tendulkar in the first match of the Indian tour. More dignity
He says that during his day cricketers behaved with more dignity and poise and a gentle handshake or a congratulatory pat on the back was all that was necessary to acknowledge a good feat. He spoke about the great Sathasivam, and the former umpire H. E. W. de Zylwa and asked about Harold Andrado and of course Iverse Gunasekera whom he remembers beating him to a scorching century when they were batting together for a Commonwealth team against the NCC in 1952. he said that he had not seen a batsman who hit the ball so hard and he had played against Everton Weekes and Clyde Walcott.
Again, he said he could not recall hitting me on my cloth hat (for that is all we wore against international fast bowlers on the green top Oval wickets of those days) when ducking into a ball that did not bounce, on my way to becoming the highest scorer at that time for Sri Lanka (then Ceylon) in these contests. But more modestly he said that many batsmen have scored good runs against him many times.
After another couple of hours of swapping yarns and another couple more of the favourite Aussie brew we rose to take our leave. He has only two cricketing photographs in his sitting room, one of which is the famous square cut off Doug Wright, which Sir Robert Menzies had said should be sculptured and put on public display as an example of Australian athleticism (or some such sentiment) and the other a 4ft by 3ft enlargement of Bradman scoring his hundredth run of his hundredth century at the Sydney Cricket Ground.
Just before we took our leave he stood before this picture and told us that there was a story behind this. He said that he could have made himself famous (not that he needed to). When we asked him what it was about he said ``You know, I was batting with him at the other end and when he was on 99 he pushed a ball from Kishenchand the Indian bowler, just wide of mid-on and coming down the wicket shouted in his squeaky voice (imitating) 'come on Nugget'. Had I stayed put and shouted back 'no Don get back' he would have been run out by the length of the pitch on 99 going for his hundredth century and I would have got into the Guiness Book of Records!'' he chuckled. ``However, I was the first to congratulate him''. Apparently he loved telling this story over and over again and we parted on this note. Family friends
Initially, I also had the pleasure of meeting Ruth Oldfield, the nonagenarian widow of that 'gentleman keeper' Bert Oldfield, a contemporary of my father nearly 60 years ago and firm family friends ever since. It has been said that he only appealed if he thought that a batsman was genuinely out and that too very apologetically as if saying ``chum, I hate doing this but it is my job you know'' - a far cry from today's raucous vulgarity. He would even give a sympathetic pat on the back of the poor retiring victim on his way back. In the result very few appeals from him were turned down, such was the trust that international umpires had in him. Can we ever hope to achieve such Entopian state today?
Mrs. Oldfield presented me with a book of newspaper cuttings of the 1934 Australian tour of England, carefully preserved and put together by Bert himself with comments written in his own hand. At this distance of time it must border on a 'collector's item'.