Allan Border was a symbol of Australian defiance in some lean years, and later the captain who led them to world domination. In 1982, he was a Wisden Cricketer of the Year.
Allan Border went on to become one of Australia’s greatest batsmen and captains. In 156 Tests, he hit 11,174 runs at 50.56, with 27 centuries.
During the memorable 1981 Test series there often stood, sure-footed on the slippery slope of Australian batsmanship, an earnest, chunky figure, a well-rounded cock-robin of a cricketer. One phase of his lonely defiance endured through 15 hours, beginning at Old Trafford and closing with his final ball of the series at The Oval, the full product of this extraordinary sequence being 313 runs: his seventh and eighth Test hundreds, both not out, and an 84. A broken finger on his left hand, and a chipped if trusted bat made his job no easier. Allan Robert Border was no longer to be regarded as merely useful and promising; he was demonstrably world-class.
Four years previously, with the passionate sense of responsibility found in all ambitious professionals, he had set about broadening his experience by venturing to England to play league and county Second Eleven cricket – every bit of match-play he could find. In 1977 he played in the meadows of the Graces, in Gloucestershire, and carried Downend to first place in their league. He actually played for the county, against Oxford University; and scored an unbeaten 159 for DH Robins’ XI against Cambridge University at Eastbourne.
A year later, learning to contain his natural aggression, accustoming himself to the cerebral claustrophobia induced by a helmet, he was a prolific professional for East Lancashire in the Lancashire League, amassing a record 1,191 runs and taking 54 wickets with unpretentious left-arm spin which in time was to claim a few distinguished Test wickets. Back in Australia, while Lancastrians were still marvelling at his 179 not out (thirteen sixes, fifteen fours) against Rawtenstall, he won his first Test cap. He was to go on to make more runs (1,070) in his first year as a Test cricketer than anyone before him.
The beady, pale-blue eyes above the stubbly chin watched the English bowlers with an unrelenting concentration. Posterior jutting, he waited motionless. His strokes were played with an impressive instinct of choice and a simple cleanness of movement. In three crowded years he had amassed 2,593 runs in 61 Test innings, average 51.86.
At the summer’s end Sir Len Hutton surmised him to be the best left-hand batsman in the world. That was the accolade that AB or Pugsley, as his friends know him, had quietly and determinedly set out to win on that distant day when, in short trousers, he first sensed his cricketing gifts on the lawn at Mosman.
