Keith Miller: The Golden Nugget – Almanack

He was, Neville Cardus wrote, “Australia in excelsis”. Free-spirited, generous, sometimes bloody-minded, altogether bonzer, Miller was the most colourful cricketer of his post-war generation, driving sixes beyond imagination, bowling fearsomely fast and catching with a predatory instinct, playing to and for the crowd. Off the field, his zest for life and natural charm attracted friendship from every quarter, be it country house or street-corner bar. He was, moreover, Hollywood handsome, over six feet tall, broad-shouldered, with dark brown hair worn longer than the times approved. Little wonder women wanted to be with him and men wanted to be him.

Associated mainly with New South Wales and captaining them to three successive Sheffield Shield titles, Miller was, in fact, Melbourne-born and raised. He was named after Australian aviators Keith and Ross Smith who at the time were making the first flight from England to Australia. His hard-hitting batting for South Melbourne led to selection for Victoria Second XI while he was still attending Melbourne High, where Bill Woodfull, the former Australian captain, taught maths. Miller’s earlier dreams of becoming a jockey had been dashed when he grew almost a foot taller in his mid-teens, although those extra inches did give him the physique to star in Australian Rules football for St Kilda and win state honours. Not that the lure of the track ever left him; odds always mattered more than averages.

Two months after turning 18, in 1937-38, he made an impressive if restrained first-class debut, scoring 181 (with only five fours) against Tasmania at the MCG. But his Shield debut was held back another two years until 1939-40. He made a century when South Australia came to Melbourne, but war soon took priority over cricket, and in 1942 Miller enlisted in the RAAF, qualifying as a pilot. A stopover in America en route to England led to him meeting his first wife Peg. By night, “Dusty” Miller flew first Beaufighters and then Mosquito fighter-bombers in raids over Germany; on summer days, he played cricket. “Flight Sergeant Keith Miller … revealed the ability and temperament of a champion and showed every promise of developing into one of Australia’s best all-rounders,” Wisden forecast in 1944.

But the West Indies pitches were easy-paced, and the home attack had no one approaching the speed of Tyson and Statham, who had recently rolled Australia over at home. In 1956, Jim Laker and spin-friendly pitches made Miller’s final tour a nightmare, reducing his classical batting to mockery as hair, pad and bat flopped forward in futile defensive lunges. Yet there were consolations. At Lord’s, ignoring his 36 years, he bowled Australia to victory with peerless fast-medium bowling and his only ten-wicket return in Tests. It came as no surprise to teammates who, seven months earlier, had witnessed his 7-12 demolition of South Australia at Sydney; showman to the last, he acknowledged the Lord’s ovation by picking the umpire’s pocket and tossing the bails into the crowd.

A fortnight later, while captaining the tourists against Hampshire, he was invited to nearby Broadlands by Lord Mountbatten, whose guests included Princess Margaret. Miller had met the princess in 1948 when the Australians visited Balmoral; now he found himself being asked to sit beside her during the after-dinner film. “The bluest eyes I have ever seen,” Miller noted, but rumours of an affair gained no currency from him. “No gentleman ever discusses any relationship with a lady,” he chastised the curious.

He continued to visit England every summer, working initially as a journalist for the Daily Express, maintaining friendships and pursuing his love of classical music. A cousin had introduced him to Beethoven early on – returning from a wartime mission he reputedly diverted over Bonn to see Beethoven’s birthplace – and music, as much as cricket, was integral to his friendship with Sir Neville Cardus. Hallé maestro Sir John Barbirolli wrote the foreword to one of Miller’s books. But passing years and ill-health took their toll, and he was wheelchair-bound when the statue of him at the MCG was unveiled in February 2004. It didn’t matter. The legend and the memories were intact; the mourners who packed Melbourne’s cathedral for his state funeral testified to that.

Miller, Keith Ross MBE, AM, died on October 11, 2004, aged 84.

NUGGETS
“A young eagle among crows and daws.”
Sir Neville Cardus

“He’s the best all-rounder, along with Garry Sobers, who ever lived.”
Alan Davidson

“He could bat, bowl, field, and he could fly an airplane.”
Bill Brown

“Keith was a genuine legend. He understood that the game, great as it is, is just a game, and he played it that way.”
Bob Merriman, chairman of Cricket Australia

“Sorry, Godfrey, but I have to do it – the crowd are a bit bored at the moment.”
Miller’s apology after bowling successive bouncers to Evans in 1946-47

“I’ll tell you what pressure is. Pressure is a Messerschmitt up your arse. Playing cricket is not.”
Miller on the modern game

“No regrets. I’ve had a hell of a good life. Been damned lucky.”
Miller at 75