Tag: Sydney Cricket Ground

A love letter to Sydney…

Posted on by SW

So. I’ve moved back to Sydney after living overseas since way back in 2005.

Looks like someone’s god is about to speak

Apart from family and friends, in no particularly order, here are a few things I’ve missed in almost 19 years living away… my Sydney love letter.

*Kookaburras… with the wombat, the kookaburra is a rather underrated Australian icon compared to the kangaroo and koala, but we kind of like it that way.

*The sky… the Sydney/Australian sky is absolutely breathtaking. That blue…

*The Harbour Bridge… although I’ve driven/trained/walked over the Bridge a gazillion times, it always feels like the first time. I often think of my grandmother who walked across the Bridge the day it opened on Saturday March 19, 1932, wearing an outfit she had specially made for the occasion. She even took her shoes off and carried them as her feet were hurting. Unheard of in 1932!

*Wendy Whiteley’s Secret Garden… but shhhhhh… don’t tell anyone.

*Sandstone… the look and texture. The “Sandstone Precinct” on Bridge St featuring the Lands and Education Department Buildings is one of my favourite parts of the city. The former Education Department building has been transformed into the stunning Capella Sydney hotel. 

*The Australian humour… irony, sarcasm… taking the piss. Love it.

*The Royal Botanic Garden Sydney… Sydney’s magnificent backyard. Though it could do with losing the word “Royal”.

*Rainbow Lorikeets… those random, screeching flashes of colour.

*The beaches… all of them… but I’m looking at you, Balmoral, Whale and Palm. Though I don’t love Balmoral when you hire a car on a scorching summer Saturday, get there at 7.45am, spend 40 minutes trying to find a parking with no luck. Peak Sydney.

*Food, glorious food. Sydney’s dining scene is incredible… from a succulent Chinese meal to any cuisine you can think of.

*The Sydney Cricket Ground… though I do miss the old scoreboard.

*Sydney ferries… the best way to travel. Being on a (Manly) ferry as it cuts its way to Circular Quay, or anywhere in Sydney Harbour is always a wonderful experience. But I do miss the old-school ferries.

*The Opera House… those pristine, sparkling white sails mask the controversy that marred the design and construction. It really is incredible… as are the performances I’ve seen inside.

*Seafood… a veritable smorgasbord. Just don’t come the raw prawn, er, mate.

*Australian wine… I’m rather un-Australian in that I’m not a beer drinker. It’s great living here and not having to pay a billionty dollars for brilliant Australian wine.

*The Elizabeth Street entrance to St. James station… the famed Château Tanunda neon sign has been there since 1926.

*Friendliness… going for an early morning walk and people nodding, saying “Morning”. You miss that.

*Sydney Harbour… absolutely every single thing about it.

*Hyde Park… smack bang in the CBD… the fig tree-lined avenues, the spectacular, mythical Archibald Fountain featuring Apollo, Diana and his mates.

*Taronga Zoo… definitely a zoo with a view.

*The kulcha… art galleries, theatres (special mention to the magnificent State Theatre and the vertigo-inducing Theatre Royal), museums, music venues… etc, etc.

As that old song by Tommy Leonetti goes, “My warm city of Sydney / I’ve never been away.”

©Steve Williams 2023

Viv Richards to Balls of Steel: Cricket World Cup Memories

Posted on by SW

So Australia’s Cricket World Cup campaign has kicked off (excuse the wrong sporting phrasal verb).

Guard the shiny side with your life

To celebrate, here are some of my random childhood cricket memories.

*Watching two blokes carry a polystyrene esky chock-full of KB beer bottles in front of The Hill at the Sydney Cricket Ground in 1975, when the arse fell out of it. The beer shattered, they were shattered. The crowd roared, the players laughed.

*Foraging in a box of washing powder (OMO?) to discover a cricket card. That smell has stayed with me for forty years.

*The religious experience of buying a brand new Kookaburra cricket ball. Opening the box, unwrapping the paper, gently taking it out. Earnestly polishing (only one side) until you could see your beaming face, and never letting it touch the ground.

*The incredible experience of watching the World Cup and the Ashes in England live on TV from Sydney. I finally got to Lord’s a few years ago – a religious experience.

*My World Series Cricket t-shirt that I wore until it had to retire hurt.

*Tony Greig walking out to bat wearing a motorbike helmet to much laughter. Later sticking his car keys in the pitch while solemnly discussing the mythical “player comfort level” off the high-tech “weather wall.”

*The body-trembling / mind-numbing nervousness of approaching your favourite cricket player on the fence for an autograph, then the exalted glee as you float away gazing at the scrawled signature. I felt exactly the same way meeting Viv Richards when I was 37.

*Getting that first “cherry” on your new cricket bat (mine was a much-cherished SS, just like the great man above. That’s the end of the similarities).

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*Missing seeing a test hat-trick. A day at the cricket with dad at the SCG, who wanted to leave early because the car park “is a shitfight.” We heard the crowd erupt — three times — from said car park.

*The terror of facing a “rep” fast bowler who started his run-up in the next suburb, and was so fast he had to stop and rest before he actually unleashed the red missile.

*Inventing day / night cricket as a kid in 1977: playing backyard cricket until mum called you in for dinner, then resuming after turning on the single Portaflood light, until mum called “stumps.”

*Richie Benaud.

*The “Balls of Steel incident” of 1980. Bowling in a school cricket match, the ball slipped out of my hand and hit the batsmen on the full, in the, er, groinal region. He didn’t flinch. I raced down the pitch “Sorry, mate, are you ok? Good thing you’re wearing a protector.” — “I’m not.”

*Getting into fights for supporting the West Indies instead of Australia (I just preferred the way they played the game, and the understandable arrogance). Coruba rum is still a beverage of choice.

*The sound of the stitching of that new Kookaburra cricket ball whizzing past your nose as you missed a hoik over cow corner. Again.

*The image of Dennis Lillee flicking sweat off his brow at the top of his run-up, then that bouncing gold chain as he thundered into bowl.

*Walking into bat, being handed a still-warm protector (aka “Hector”) the just-dismissed batsman had just removed. Talk about player comfort levels.

C’mon Aussie, c’mon… (Google it)

©Steve Williams 2019

Cricket memories — as summer as cicadas

Posted on by SW

Officially, summer starts in Australia on December 1, but to me it’s when the first ball is bowled in the first cricket test.

To mark the occasion, here are some of my random childhood cricket memories.

“Don’t rub ’em, count ’em” — Balls of Steel circa 1980

*Watching two blokes carry a polystyrene esky chock-full of beer bottles (KB?) in front of The Hill at the Sydney Cricket Ground in 1975, when the arse fell out of it. The beer shattered, they were shattered. The crowd roared, the players laughed.

*Foraging in a box of washing powder (OMO?) to discover a cricket card. That smell has stayed with me for forty years.

*The religious experience of buying a brand new Kookaburra cricket ball. Opening the box, unwrapping the paper, gently taking it out. Earnestly polishing (one side) until you could see your beaming face, and never letting it touch the ground.

*My World Series Cricket t-shirt that I wore until it had to retire hurt.

*Tony Greig walking out to bat wearing a motorbike helmet to much laughter. Later sticking his car keys in the pitch while solemnly discussing the mythical “player comfort level” off the high-tech “weather wall”.

*Getting that first “cherry” on your new cricket bat.

*The body-trembling / mind-numbing nervousness of approaching your favourite cricket player on the fence for an autograph, then the exalted glee as you float away gazing at the scrawled signature. I felt exactly the same way meeting Viv Richards when I was 37.

*Missing seeing a test hat-trick. A day at the cricket with dad, who wanted to leave early because the car park “is a shitfight”. We heard the crowd erupt — three times — from said car park.
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*The terror of facing a “rep” fast bowler who started his run-up in the next suburb, and was so fast he had to stop and rest before he actually unleashed the red missile.

*Inventing day / night cricket as a kid in 1977: playing backyard cricket until mum called you in for dinner, then resuming after turning on the single Portaflood light, until mum called “stumps”.

*The voice of Alan McGilvray.

*The “Balls of Steel incident” of 1980. Bowling in a school cricket match, the ball slipped out of my hand and hit the batsmen on the full, in the, er, groinal region. He didn’t flinch. I raced down the pitch “Sorry, mate, are you ok? Good thing you’re wearing a protector.” — “I’m not.”

*Getting into fights for supporting the West Indies instead of Australia (I just preferred the way they played the game). Coruba rum is still a beverage of choice.

*The sound of the stitching of that new Kookaburra cricket ball whizzing past your nose as you missed a hoik over cow corner.

*The image of Dennis Lillee flicking sweat off his brow at the top of his run-up, then that bouncing gold chain as he thundered into bowl.

*Walking into bat, being handed a still-warm protector the just-dismissed batsman had just removed. Talk about player comfort levels.

C’mon Aussie, c’mon…

©Steve Williams 2013