They warn that you should never meet your heroes; that because one might idolise a person it can only disappoint when you cross paths.
Well, Rod Marsh torpedoed that theory.
Many young cricketers around the country in the 70s revered Marsh. In WA probably more so than other parts of our great nation, he was the epitome of a sporting role model.
We loved his athleticism behind the stumps, keeping wickets for both WA and Australia, diving full length in front of first slip to take a miraculous catch. So often it was off the bowling of another WA icon, Dennis Lillee.
The fabled partnership between ‘keeper and bowler inspired many youngsters at a time when the Sheffield Shield was at its zenith and WA was a super power – boasting up to seven players from our State in the national team.
Aside from his exploits with the gloves he was also a belligerent left-handed batsman; an entertainer whose all-round skills with gloves and bat were unparalleled until Adam Gilchrist found another level.
It was with great sadness that the news of Marsh’s death was received when flicking on the radio for the drive to work this morning.
Immediately images flooded one’s mind of the diving Marsh, pouching a nick behind in his right glove, airborn and at full stretch. Then there was the memory of Marsh in the green and gold World Series Cricket garb, bemused at the sight of holding the handle and splice of a bat – the blade sitting somewhere near mid-off having separated on impact.
As a young journo, recently relocated from Albany to the big smoke, one of my first notable interviews was with Rodney Marsh.
My stomach churned nervously as I walked towards Australia’s greatest gloveman, sweaty hands trembling with notebook in one hand.
Seconds later the nerves dissipated as he thrust out that trusty right hand, his gnarly fingers evidence of what happens when collecting thunderbolts from Lillee or Jeff Thomson for a living, swallowing my mit in a firm greeting.
For the next 30 minutes or so he was engaging and polite, humouring a young reporter who fumbled his way through a string of questions he had undoubtedly answered hundreds of times previously.
On occasion in ensuing years our paths crossed a few times and there was an even a memorable beer at the WACA one night. I didn’t know him well but he was everything I had conjured in my impressionable mind.
Meeting one of my heroes was everything I had hoped.
Our world is poorer for his passing and thoughts are with his family – especially son Paul who is now CEO of the AFL Players Association.
*Photo credit: cricket.com.au
