It is now almost inconceivable to imagine that when Matthew Wade scored an
unbeaten century in the first week of 2013 he was entrenched as Australia’s wicket keeper of choice. It was an easy choice, here was Wade, a dashing youngster with a powerful left sided technique. He was everything Australia needed, youthful, skillful and courageous. Brad Haddin was left out in the cold.
In hindsight, it was an easy choice to leave Haddin out as well, albeit in tough circumstances. Haddin left a West Indian tour to be with his ill child, and while that shouldn’t be ignored, he was also struggling to stay in the team. He was old, untrustworthy with the bat and stubborn. When Haddin inexplicably tried to hit Vernon Philander over point at Cape Town, only to be walking back to the pavilion as the sixth wicket for 18, the public hanging was around the corner. Twitter was calling for blood in it’s usual way, through hashtags. #Haddout, #Haddinuff, #BadHaddin, #Baddin.
Through a combination of average glovework from Wade, and a desperate search for winning nostalgia, Haddin was called back for the first Ashes test. He took the first catch of the series. In the final innings Haddin put on 65 with James Pattinson for the tenth wicket to drag Australia so close to an undeserved victory. He was given out thanks to technology and suddenly #Haddout was Hadds again.
Hadds went on to take the most catches by any Australian wicketkeeper in a series, but his batting was still poor and unreliable. He scored 206 runs at 22.88 and was part of a batting line up that remained dysfunctional. There was no real discussion about his place in the side in the lead up to this Ashes series, and that lack of talk was justified on day one when he rescued Australia. In every first innings of the Ashes, Hadds has performed, and Australia has needed it. Not only did he turn his form around, he completed a tougher task, by turning his form around in the court of public opinion.
Watch him bat for more than 30 minutes on Channel Nine, and you will hear Hadds referred to as ‘old school’. That’s not a bad description of him, but he is not solely old school. To me Hadds is a bully. He is that kid in your class that you had to be friends with to survive, if not he murders you. He is the kid who does what he likes, because naturally he is more gifted than you. When he bats, Hadds bullies the bowlers and he does it mentally. As in the old school, Hadds strokes the ball. Not like David Warner who hits the ball, or Chris Rogers who nurdles the ball, or Shane Watson who conquers the ball. Hadds takes a small step down the wicket and pushes the ball in slow motion. When he drives down the ground, he looks untouchable. Hadds throws his hands through the ball and times shots well. The bowler can’t believe that shot, with a tenth of the effort the delivery took, has sped past him to the fence. When Hadds hits a boundary, he knows it. He doesn’t run. He stands still, and looks at the bowler, as if he is in the nets facing a local plodder.
Hadds doesn’t smile a lot. He rarely speaks loudly or longly, at least off the field. He remains restrained from the public. He is not the local cricket club president that Rod Marsh was. He’s not the larrikan laughing at the back of the class Ian Healy was. He’s not the next door neighbour you played with in the street that Adam Gilchrist was. Hadds is the middle aged wicketkeeper in the sixth grade side you played in when you were 13. You don’t feel like you are mates with him, but you are on good terms. When he says something nice it warms your heart, and he just loves the game. He should have retired before, but he loves the game too much, and he knows his time will come.
The 2013/14 Ashes series will probably be remembered for Mitchell Johnson. He will be the Man of the Series, and the standout image of your memory. But these Ashes are as much Haddin’s as they are Johnson’s. He (at the time of writing) has only scored less than 53 once, and that was in Perth when the Ashes were halfway in his pocket. I can’t think of him making a bad mistake behind the stumps, and his batting has kept a still fragile line up together. Suddenly we all love Hadds, and when he tries to hit a bowler over his head we smile at how strongly he believes in himself. It is a far cry from #Haddout.
Image via SMH.com.au, Rohan Thomson.
