Donald Bradman

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echnical unorthodoxy and rapid decision-making, a natural sense of timing, dancing footwork, and superb coordination, which allowed him to strike the ball with peerless force and accuracy: these were the qualities that made Bradman such a difficult batsman to bowl to, and thus allowed him to score runs so quickly. The style was not particularly elegant, but it was supremely effective in the destruction of a bowling attack. As if that were not enough, Bradman had three characteristics that were guaranteed to unnerve any bowler he faced. First, there was his grin. Second, he stood absolutely still, not tapping the ground with his bat as the bowler ran in, thus giving the appearance of total nervelessness. Third, he never sweated, remaining apparently as cool after 300 runs as he had been after one. "As I ran up to bowl," recalled England's Jim Laker, "Bradman seemed to know where the ball was going to pitch, what stroke he was going to play and how many runs he was going to score."

It was the Australian tour of England in 1930 that brought to a wider audience this new prodigy,who rapidly became a local hero. From then on, Bradman's record is unmatched by any other batsman from any country at any time. By the time he finished his Test career in 1948, his Test average was 99.94; no one else has reached beyond 62.15. His career average in first-class cricket was 95.14; no one else has achieved more than 71.22.

But although Bradman's performance was unparalleled, his career was not without problems. His batting success in 1930 provoked in English cricketers a determination to control his genius, and gave rise to the "bodyline" tactic of physical attack on batsmen by bowlers (particularly by the fastest of all, England's Harold Larwood). Bradman had a bad-tempered row with cricket's Australian Board of Control over his writing about the game. His health broke down; in 1934 he nearly died of peritonitis. His decision to move from Sydney to Adelaide provoked much resentment. When he returned to cricket in 1936-37 and became Australian captain, Bradman was faced with what almost amounted to a mutiny by his side's Irish Catholic members, which rumbled on until World War II. Finally, after he volunteered for military service, his health broke down again and he was invalided out of the army. Fortunately, Bradman had by then established a stockbroking business in Adelaide, and through it achieved the financial security that cricket had never given him. In stockbroking as in cricket, he displayed a penetrating mind and acute judgment.

As Bradman himself would willingly concede, his achievements would have been impossible without the constant and loving support of his wife, Jessie, who died of cancer in 1997. Their 65-year marriage was, Bradman often said, "the greatest partnership of my life." One day, as Jesse was going to hospital for treatment, she went out into the garden and picked two roses. The first she gave to Don; the second she took with her to hospital. It was typical of her. She was a great lady--but then, of course, she had married a great man.

Lord Williams of Elvel played cricket for Oxford University and Essex and is the author of Bradman: An Australian Hero