As a boy living in “The Yard” off Grass Street, in Castries, Saint Lucia, playing cricket was a popular form of entertainment, ahead of re-enactments of popular movies, playing marbles, sword fighting, and tire racing.
The fact that we used baby breadfruit as balls, and coconut branches as bats, did not diminish our ambitions of having successful careers as international cricketers. For us, the surest and quickest route to success, was to appropriate the name of a great West Indies cricketer.
A source of unending frustration for me, as a right hander, was that I could not pretend to be everyone’s idol, Gary Sobers, who held the world record for the highest individual Test innings score of 365 runs. That honour fell to my younger brother, Mano. I had to be satisfied with being Rohan Khanai, or Conrad Hunte. They were outstanding batsmen with contrasting styles: Khanai of “Lying Hook” fame was aggressive and inventive and sometimes kept wicket, while Hunte was obdurate and dependable. Still, neither were bowlers.
Mano reprised his role as Gary Sobers with all the seriousness of a priest at Sunday Mass. Not only was he difficult to dismiss, but he also frequently hit breadfruit balls over Miss Hettie’s fence for six.
It’s impossible to describe the overpowering sense of pride and lift that we got from Sir Gary’s exploits on the cricket field. He was our Superman, Phantom, and Batman, rolled into one. The fact that we had not seen him in action did not matter. Our fertile imaginations brought him to life.
T’was a bitter-sweet moment, when I got to see Sir Gary live on John Joseph’s father’s black and white television in 1973. The faint, shaky images on screen did nothing to undermine the majesty of Sir Gary’s 150 runs at Lords. It was a joy to behold. In partnerships with my “make-do” hero, Khanai who scored 156 runs, and Bernard Julien, who scored his maiden century, Sobers’s imperious knock underlined an authoritative performance by West Indies that resulted in a 2-0 win in that 3-Test series.
Unbeknownst to me and many cricket lovers, that would be the last time we would see Sir Gary in full flow, as he retired a year later, ending a 21-year reign on the Throne of International Test Cricket.
When the “Mighty Sparrow” — calypso monarch of the world—proclaimed Sir Gary in song, as “the Greatest Cricketer on Earth or Mars” none doubted the Martians would agree that “…batting or bowling he was the cricket king.” Sparrow’s “three cheers” anointing of Sir Gary came after his inspirational leadership of West Indies to its first Series win over Australia in 1965.
That magnificent team performance is etched in my memory. As a final year student at the St. Aloysius R.C Boys School, I recall how difficult it was for teachers and students alike to concentrate on schoolwork. There were frequent pauses in instructions to update the entire school on the progress of the series. Hunte led the batting for West Indies scoring 501 runs in the series, while Lance Gibbs took the most wickets. In that same year, Sobers led West Indies to series wins against England and India.
At that point, Sobers was West Indies’ most successful captain. In the eyes of his adoring subjects, he could do no wrong, until he did what some deemed unthinkable. Seeking victory in the 4th Test of the 1968 series against England, Sobers closed West Indies second innings at 92-2, daring England to score 215 in 165 minutes. England easily chased that target to win the match and the series and to give Sobers his first taste of the wrath of fickle West Indies cricket fans.
Two years later, more condemnation would befall Sobers for his decision to take part in a double wicket event in Ian Smith’s Rhodesia, which had been sanctioned by the Commonwealth and the UN for its apartheid policies. Facing threats of entry bans from the Prime Ministers of Guyana (Forbes Burnham) and Jamaica (Michael Manley), Sobers apologized for his actions, in a statement written with input from his country’s Prime Minister, Errol Barrow.
Many all-rounders have been feted for their exploits in cricket but none have performed with the alacrity, flair, nonchalance and self-belief as Sir Gary. Who else bowled lively seamers, and left-arm orthodox and unorthodox spin? Who else showed razor-sharp reflexes at slip and short leg to snare 109 catches off the bowling of Lance Gibbs, Wes Hall, and Charlie Griffith? Who else made hitting 6 sixes in an over for the first time, look easier than shelling peas? Who else scored 26 centuries and took 235 wickets in fewer Tests? Who else scored 1000 runs and took 50 wickets (TWICE) in Australia’s domestic cricket?
And who else left the game in a more regal state than he found it?
Predictably and quite fittingly, Sir Gary’s performances in cricket would earn him a Knighthood from Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth in 1975, in a ceremony at his beloved, Kensington Oval. Happily, I was able to watch that event from the comfort of my parent’s home.
As a boyhood fan of Sir Gary, playing breadfruit cricket in Grass Street, I never imagined that one day, I would be shaking his hand. That day at the World Travel Market in Earls Court in the UK, in November 1993, is one I will never forget. At the time, Sir Gary was Barbados’ Tourism Ambassador. The queue of fans waiting to shake his hand was long and winding; and so, my good fortune was brief.
Even so, I am happy I had the privilege of shaking the hand of the man who removed the collective cap of despondency that many West Indians wore after the demise of the West Indies Federation and gave us cause to raise our collars and our heads, as a proud Caribbean civilization.
Rest well, Sir Garfield St. Aubrun Sobers. Thank you for the warm and precious memories.