Samir Chopra blogs about cricket here. At my invitation he kindly agreed to contribute the following memory to the long-running normblog series.
I first heard about David Hookes a month before my 10th birthday. An Indian sports magazine carried a little story about a new, young, blond-haired genius who had scored five centuries in six innings in the Sheffield Shield. I read the story with great interest, and on learning he was from the same state side as Don Bradman, instantly became a fan. A few weeks later, I learned he had been picked for the Australian side to play in the Centenary Test. I could hardly wait.
Hookes's debut was not auspicious. But then neither was the Australian first innings. Out of a total of 138, Hookes contributed a mere 17. But after Lillee and Walker had bowled England out for 95, Australia were in the hunt. Still, it's often forgotten that in the second innings, Australia were in strife again when they slumped to 53 for 3. But three successive partnerships of 79, 55 and 57 salvaged matters. Hookes was implicated in the last two; of the 112 runs put on while he was at the crease, he scored 56. And 20 of those - his last 20 - came in five consecutive deliveries bowled by Tony Greig: a lofted drive, a sweep-pull-paddle around the corner, a cover-drive, an on-drive, and then a cover-drive again.
Back in India, I read the report on his batting with glee. A boy's hero comes good in a debut Test against England? What was not to like? But I had to rest content with verbal descriptions and photographs. There was no television coverage of the Centenary Test in India, not even highlights.
Years went by. Hookes's career never quite lived up to its early promise. He was a failure in England in 1977, joined Kerry Packer's World Series Cricket, had his jaw broken, returned to the fold, and stayed on the fringes. Twenty-three Tests for a batsman of his calibre still seem a shame. I knew he did well in domestic cricket but that was scant consolation. He became a commentator - I enjoyed hearing his enthusiastic, if at times overdone, takes on the game. Finally, he became a coach, returning to guide the fortunes of young cricketers.
And I still hadn't seen those five fours of his. I lived in Australia from 2000 to 2002, and hoped to catch a glimpse of them on some nostalgia package but it never happened.
Then, finally, thanks to the miracles of the Internet and YouTube, it happened. Some kind soul uploaded long highlights of the Centenary Test, and I saw it all: Lillee's bowling, McCosker's broken jaw, Randall's second innings heroics. It was all there. As were Hookes's five fours (at 39 minutes 40 seconds in).
Now, finally, I attached images to words: the young man on debut, unawed by the occasion, playing in the cauldron of the MCG, boldly, freely, stroking his way into immortality. I played the video again and again, making sure I didn't miss out any details, marvelling at how different batsmen of that era looked: lighter bats, no arm guards, no helmets. It lent Hookes's batting a special unencumbered light touch, a grace and finesse combined with power.
I was not a 10-year-old boy any more, but those brief video clips made me feel, if only for a short time, young all over again.
From contemporary accounts I've found among the books on my shelves:
... the young left hander, Hookes, a brilliant 56. - John Arlott in Frindall's Score Book: The Centenary Test at Melbourne and England versus Australia 1977
Yet the spotlight centred on the 21-year-old David Hookes who won his place on the forthcoming tour to England with an innings straight from the fount of youth. This six feet two inches powerful left-handed batsman, who had scored five centuries in 1976-77 Sheffield Shield cricket, strode to the crease with a confidence even more apparent when he struck Greig for five 4's in an over - off, pull, cover, mid-wicket, cover. - Wisden 1978
There was all the innocence of youth in these shots, all the splendid simplicity of a talented young batsman playing his natural game in a totally uninhibited way. There was no calculation or tactical awareness, just an instinctive and spontaneous response. Greg Chappell saw it as the moment that Australia really took control of the game. - Christopher Martin-Jenkins, The Jubilee Tests
Greig snatched his jumper and cap from umpire O'Connell in something more than mock relief at the over's conclusion, while famous names in the pavilion pondered when last such a feat had been achieved. Victor Richardson did it, they concluded, against J.W.H.T. Douglas in the Melbourne Test of 1920-21. - Frank Tyson, The Centenary Test
[For links to the other posts in this series, see here.]