SHANE WARNE – MY ILLUSTRATED CAREER 2006

SHANE WARNE – MY ILLUSTRATED CAREER

July 2006

To the coast in a heatwave – well someone’s got to do it. Hampshire County Cricket Club is experiencing a renaissance at their new Rose Bowl venue under the inspirational captaincy of the cricketer Richie Benaud has called ‘the greatest I have ever seen’. My trek south starts from Cumbria at 4:00am to reach Southampton in time for the start of play as hosts Hampshire entertain Yorkshire. The ‘greatest’ is my host for the day. A varied assortment of the Press and the publishing industry have been invited to enjoy a VIP day at the cricket courtesy of Cassell Publishers and their latest signing, the leading test wicket taker of all time, Shane Warne.

With assistance from Times correspondent Richard Hobson, Warne has penned a pictorial autobiography; ‘Shane Warne – My Illustrated Career’, published this winter in time for the lucrative Christmas market. At more than 250 pages long with hundreds of full colour photographs the book tracks Warne’s childhood and career concentrating primarily on his ‘on the field’ encounters in the international cricketing arena. His publisher has organised this day to pump prime the selling and marketing machine that will propel the book to the top of the bestseller charts. Booksellers – bookshops and wholesalers – get the opportunity to discuss promotional plans with marketing and PR personnel, book reviewers get advance copies, and everyone has access to the free bar…. and all day we are teased with a promise of an appearance from the man himself at the close of play.

By mid morning the heat is oppressive, driving the spectators out of their sunsoaked seats in the open into the cool refuge of the bar. This promotes free association between the diverse guests, initially taking the form of a dozen concurrent – but not always convergent – explanations of the rules of cricket to the 50 per cent of the party who think they have arrived on another planet. A world with its own arcane laws, secret language and coded hand signals, where spontaneous applause breaks out for no apparent reason, and where – let’s face it – not a lot seems to be happening.

Midday passes and the tension within our group rises with the temperature and humidity. Fuelled by hunger and alcohol, by the mounting physical discomfort and the knowledge that there are still six hours to go before we get to meet the main attraction, a tetchy irritability is threatening to undercut the early bonhomie. A good storm would clear the air.

Hampshire have edged the morning session against a lethargic Yorkshire batting performance, the clammy humidity giving significant swing to the bowlers. The imminent arrival of lunch is signalled by Shane Warne taking the ball for one over of spin before the break. Spirits rise again with the introduction of our hero and the immediate prospect of food.

As the players drift off the field to take their lunch our party piles into the airless, aircon-less lounge to refuel. Doing nothing watching others do apparently not very much is truly exhausting. A sub group of independent booksellers coagulates in the heat at one of the round tables and attacks the buffet in a shark-like feeding frenzy. As they swap tales of retailing woe with mouths full of free food a fresh face sits down to eat. ‘Hello, and who do you work for?’ ‘Hi, I work for Amazon’. The sound of dropped cutlery rattles round the table like the grumble of approaching thunder. A good storm would clear the air.

A loud thunderclap as the doors burst open announces the arrival of DS, the man charged with selling the print-run into the booktrade prior to publication. A man habituated to going through doors without opening them first, DS has patently sacrificed the back nine holes – but not the nineteenth – to get to this free lunch on time. His cheery, ‘Hail fellow well met’ enthusiasm and energy ease the tension and the sound of laughter and vigorous back slapping joins the popping of corks and clinking of glasses.

The interval in play allows more mingling and networking. Both a serialisation in the Sunday Times and a slot on ‘Parkinson’ have been confirmed and we are still four months from publication. Armed with this ammunition this early gives the sales team a great advantage when selling the book into the shops. Bestsellers don’t just happen – they are conceived, planned and made by editors, cover designers, marketing departments and sales reps. I raise a somewhat unsteady glass in admiration – six months from Christmas and Shane’s book already looks like a top ten shoe-in. Another glass of red and it looks like Number One.

I don’t know what the home team were drinking during their lunch break but it reaches parts other drinks don’t – in particular the outside edge of the bat and the top of off stump. Hampshire bowler Dimitri Mascarenhas produced a devastating spell, five wickets for 33 runs that effectively deadheaded the white rose of York.

With the home team coasting, attention switches from the game to the inspection copies of ‘Shane Warne: My Illustrated Career’. The cover of embossed gold on Aussie green featuring a rampant Warne looks stunning and the contents live up to the promise. There is a short section at the beginning that lays down the basics from his childhood, but the vast majority of the book portrays Warne in action against test playing sides, including special chapters on the Ashes and the Australians. Pictures dominate this record although there are significant written contributions wrapped around the many images of Warne in arm-pumping priapic celebration. The book is written in an easy conversational style as Warne talks us through his cricketing life. The biggest talking point during the tea interval however is from the chapter on his childhood.

The book contains an extraordinary photograph of the eight-year old Shane lying prone on a trolley with his legs in plaster. Another boy at school had jumped on him and broken his legs – at one time both legs were in plaster from the hips down. He was restricted to this low level aussie surfboard on wheels for 12 months. Warne speculates that propelling himself by use of his hands developed the powerful shoulders and wrists which enabled him to give the cricket ball a ‘real good rip’. He makes no mention however to what the effect this confinement must have had on him mentally. I suspect the experience was as formative in toughening up his mind and his will-power as it was on his muscle mass – you don’t become the best in the world in a highly competitive sport by simply having the most talent. You get there by guts, grit and bloody-minded determination.

The afternoon session is drawing to a close, Hampshire have been in to bat and reduced the Yorkshire lead to 98. We have seen over 300 runs and eleven wickets – a good day’s cricket. It’s seven o’clock and the players finally leave the field and our party gathers in the lounge in an excited gaggle, eagerly awaiting the appearance of ‘our’ man. I return to the pictures in the book and am soon lost in thought as I flick through the hundreds of photographs of Warne and his cricketing contemporaries doing what they do best.

I look up and do a double-take. The diamond-studded, blonde haired, spin king has leapt from the page and is here in the flesh. He has changed into suit and tie to meet us and is keen to greet everyone individually – a media professional, he’ll do well on Parky. I say he must be pleased with his team’s performance and ask does he think it’ll be over in three days. He beams back ‘I hope so – maybe I can play some golf’. Right – he gets get a day off from playing sport for a living so he plays sport for fun.

At the time of writing Warne had 685 test wickets and was looking to notch up 700 during this Ashes series, assuming he stays free from injury. I advise him not to tread on any training balls – a misfortune that derailed his aussie team mate Glen McGrath before an Ashes test. He does not find me amusing and moves off round the room glad-handing his other guests. We move onto the balcony for a photo opportunity and a succession of other players pass on their way to a beer. This is an important part of the game for an Australian cricketer – you fight like tigers on the field and when play is over you share a beer with the opposing team. It is credit to the man that he was prepared to share some of that valued, hallowed time with us.

John Bailey

July 2006