Richie Benaud departs, his timeless cricket narrative immortal

Richie Benaud(1930-2015)

He was perhaps waiting to see just another World Cup taken into the sunset. As if on cue, the greatest voice in Australian cricket for many a generation has walked away quietly, departing to the netherworld after a lengthy battle with skin cancer. In the past two years, we haven't heard much of the perennial voice that helped Channel Nine in Australia carry cricket to the world. But even as we have learnt to miss a voice that helped build bridges across the world, the fact that there will be cricket fans who will never hear Benaud, will take time to settle into the mind.

The great broadcaster passed away this morning in Sydney, but his voice, his wit and understated wisdom shall remain immortal. It shall lay etched in the hearts and minds of the many thousands of followers.

Waking up to watch the Masters, the news of Benaud's last breath came as a rude shock and a wave of sadness. In a few hours though there shall be thousands of other Indians who shall share in this empty morning sadness that is forcing a tear in the eye and a lump in the throat.

It does not seem very long ago, that I walked out of bed to splash some cold water on my numb facial muscles, in readiness for that crackling voice that would travel straight into my little living room. And soon, "Good morning everyone," he would boom, many miles away across the ocean from his island in the southern hemisphere.

His voice drew us in magically, reducing the mighty physical distance into a mysteriously insignificant detail. Brick by soothing brick, he would construct a wonderful bridge that would connect us deprived souls to the game of cricket. The architecture was nothing short of spectacular - he would speak only when needed, combining crackling modulation with knowledgeable insight.

Even with an old piece of television, you could smell the soil in Sydney and feel the bounce in Perth as if transported to the middle of all those venues that filled the wildest dreams. Soon it was difficult to distinguish whether you were waiting for the bowler at the start of his run-up to get stuck into a batsman or for him to finish, so that you could hear Benaud explain the significance of that solitary ball. His ability to contextualise a moment and draw meaning and relevance from it for the game at hand and cricket in general was an ingenious facet of his.

As depressingly sad as it is to know of Benaud's departure, we can take solace from the fact that he gave it his all to the very end. Even though his last real stint in the box was way back in the 2005 Ashes, he remained working with Channel Nine through 2013 and intermittently gave his voice to several other games of cricket. The last we heard from Benaud was this touching tribute to Phil Hughes, soon after the young cricketer was fallen by a cricket ball in Sydney. The old man's love for the game shines through in the manner in which he captured a young man's rude departure in just a few sparing words.

Spinning webs with his words and his leg spin

We must remember too that he was a very successful cricketer, the source of his immense wisdom and understanding. Over a dozen years starting from his debut in 1952, Benaud spun spells around batsmen with his leg spinners. He became the first batsman to score 2000 runs and take 200 wickets, with his best of 7-72 coming against none other than India. He led Australia with aplomb and came through the litmus test of every Aussie captain in flying colours. He helped his team reclaim the Ashes in 1958-59 before defending it twice.

Despite all his success on the field, Benaud will be remembered mostly for his stint in the commentary box. It was a voice that offered much needed credibility to world series cricket, launched by Kerry Packer in the late 1970s. By then Benaud had received broadcasting acclaim through stints with BBC and by leading a professional team of commentators, as coloured clothing and new technology began revolutionising the game.

His wit was legendary - "that is the first catch, Rod Marsh has made today," he said, when the Aussie wicketkeeper muscled down a streaker under his arm, underlining Benaud’s presence of mind. And this at the dismissal of Glen McGrath shone light on his dry sense of humour - “and Glenn McGrath dismissed for two, just ninety-eight runs short of his century.”

Benaud simplified his approach to commenting on cricket, avoiding the temptation to overindulge as did many of his contemporaries. “Put your brain into gear and if you can add to what’s on the screen then do it, otherwise shut up,” was his guiding principle. And it served him well, endearing Benaud to fans in a very inimitable manner.

The voice of cricket has been silenced forever. But his translation of cricket shall keep ringing in our ears, keeping his vocal cords immortal for as long as the game of cricket is played in parks around the world. It was a "marvellous effort."