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A teammate's thoughts on Malcolm Marshall

Even when one knows what destiny has in store for us as individuals, it is sometimes very difficult to be prepared for the actual event

Colin Croft
10-Nov-1999
Even when one knows what destiny has in store for us as individuals, it is sometimes very difficult to be prepared for the actual event.
Three weekends ago, while in Dominica for a cricket game honouring that country's 21st year of independence, Joel Garner, another former West Indian fast bowler, informed me and the rest of the West Indies "Masters" team that our great friend and team-mate, Malcolm Marshall, had "taken a turn for the worse". Of course, he had been diagnosed with colon cancer during the last World Cup in the United Kingdom.
Even with that in mind, it was still a tremendous shock to hear that about 5:30 pm Eastern Caribbean time on Thursday last, Marshall had succumbed, in his native Barbados, to the cancer of the colon. Barbados, the West Indies and the entire cricketing world had lost a stalwart, one of the game's greatest players ever.
It was the saddest news I have had for a very long time, as it was as if one of my own relatives had died. I doubt that there is anyone anywhere in the cricket world who has been touched by "Macco", as a player or spectator, who would have anything but good to say about Marshall. Friend and foe alike, from Pakistan's Imran Khan and Wasim Akram, to West Indian Andy Roberts and Michael Holding and England's David Gower and all others, respected him for his ability, all-out commitment and versatility, in being a professional cricketer of the very highest order.
My really first knowledge of "Macco" was that he, aged 20, would be one of the replacement fast bowlers in the West Indies team, captained by Alvin Kallicharran, on the 1978/1979 tour of India. Malcolm had been very successful in his first few games for Barbados that season. Michael Holding, Andy Roberts, Joel Garner, Wayne Daniel and myself had opted to be a part of the West Indies team, captained by Clive Lloyd, journeying to Australia for Kerry Packer's World Series Cricket that year.
Malcolm actually came back into the "real" team for our victorious campaign for the 1979 World Cup in England, but did not play any games. He understudied well. However, an incident that occurred on the very next tour we had, to Australia in 1979/80, has remained with me to this day.
As we arrived at Sydney Airport, the press was out in full force. Everyone had heard of Marshall, as although he had only gotten three wickets in his first three Test matches, he had made a sufficiently good impression on all concerned with his effervescence. He was also "new" to Australia, the rest of us having been there the year before. However, none of the press could find him.
He was there all right, but everyone in Australia thought that he was much too small to be a fast bowler, so they looked over his head, literally. Indeed, perhaps the most amusing sports photograph I have seen featuring the West Indian fast bowlers of any time was one which was featured on the front page of one of Sydney's newspapers the day after our arrival.
There was Holding and Roberts, both framed at about six feet four inches, on the right hand side of the full length photograph. On the left hand side was the over six feet six inches frames of Garner and Croft in the same photograph. In the middle of that photograph was the relatively minute, and thin, stature of Marshall, about five feet nine inches tall. He looked more like a wicket-keeper or jockey than a fast bowler. The caption on the photograph read: "Malcolm Marshall - West Indies new chum".
Every West Indian player laughed heartily at that picture. How the Aussies and the rest of the world outside of the Caribbean must have regretted their initial assessment of "Macco".
Malcolm learned his trade well. "The Big Boys" was his description of Holding, Roberts, Garner and myself, who were then the regular fast bowling attack. By the time he had finished with Test cricket as an actual player, no one, not West Indian nor anyone else, could have been bigger. Malcolm combined all of the positive attributes of the "Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse" and simply became the one of the best, if not indeed the best, fast bowlers in the world.
Initially, his run up was long, rhythmic and fluid, somewhat similar to that of Holding. Of course, as time, knowledge and experiences accumulated, he learned to use the shorter bustling run with the same telling effect. The quick hand action, though, remained, thus the pace was almost always there. From Roberts he took the guile and variety to get batsmen out. From Garner he took the great determination and "never-say-die" attitude. From me, if I could suggest it, he took aggression, something not many who do not know him well would have associated with Malcolm. Like his favorite player, (Sir) Vivian Richards, Malcolm wanted badly to win at all costs.
However, as aggressive and determined as he was, and as complete and effective a fast bowler that he was, Malcolm always slithered in and smiled cunningly as he completed his deadly work, not unlike the King Cobra. Never was he ever heard to abuse any opposing team member, even though he spoke as quickly as he bowled, with the staccato delivery of an UZI machine gun. Sometimes, it was very difficult even for the rest of the West Indian players to understand anything said when he conversed agitatedly with his great, perhaps best friend and compatriot, Desmond Haynes. Mostly, Malcolm's missiles talked for him on the field, while his friendly, even jocular, but severe abuse was heaped on us, his team-mates.
Instead, words like "intelligent", "determined", "forceful", "unselfish" were always used to clearly describe Marshall. Some even called him the "Silent Assassin", not to be confused with "The Assassin", Andy Roberts.
Despite really coming fully into his own on a tough trip to Pakistan in 1980-81, in which he got 13 wickets in four Tests, it just seemed that, somehow, Malcolm seemed to keep his best, or worse, depending on one's point of view, for England. His tussles with England's batsmen, especially Graham Gooch and David Gower, are legendary.
He had a distinct hand in the two "White Washes" (or was it "Black Washes"?), given to England in 1984 in England and 1986, in the Caribbean. Many remember his heroics as he batted with a broken hand at Leeds in 1984 to make only four, thus enabling Larry Gomes to get a much deserved century. In the second innings of that game, Malcolm got seven wickets, bowling with a plaster cast on his left hand. This effort helped the West Indies to win the game. In the two series, he got 51 wickets in nine Tests, a great demonstration of his tenacity and will to succeed.
None would remember him more than perhaps Mike Gatting of England. To this day, as it was discussed as recently as last weekend in Jamaica, during the Red Stripe Bowl competition, many are convinced that the ball that destroyed Gatting's face in that one-day game at Sabina Park in Jamaica in the mid 80's was the fastest ball that Marshall had ever bowled in his life. The caption on the photograph in the following day's newspaper that depicted Gatting's face in a bloody mess, with his nose broken, was: "X Marks the Spot!!"
376 Test wickets at 20.94 runs each and 1810 runs in 81 Tests makes Malcolm only the second West Indian, after the great (Sir) Garfield Sobers, and one of only three West Indian players, Curtly Ambrose being the third, to get both 100 Test wickets and 1000 Test runs. Many did not think of him as an all-rounder, but he took particular pride in his batting. Invariably, when playing for Barbados against Guyana in the regional competitions, he would greet me as he came in to bat with; "Crofty boy, you are bowling fast today. Today, I am going to lash you and that pace around the boundaries!!" He would then smile disarmingly afterwards.
Add those statistics to the hundreds of wickets he got playing for Hampshire in England, Barbados in the West Indies and Natal in South Africa, and one would come up with the most fully rounded fast bowler ever. Indeed, during his stint as captain of Natal, he was directly responsible for the selection, unearthing, if you will, of those young pups, Shaun Pollock and Jonty Rhodes, two of the present stars of South Africa's cricket. It is entirely feasible to believe that Malcolm could have been as loved, if not more so, in both Hampshire and Durban as in Barbados and the rest of the West Indies.
As if to demonstrate his great love and knowledge of the game, which was already accepted by all of his cricketing peers, Malcolm went into coaching by firstly being qualified and certified and then experienced. Unfortunately for him, he was not as successful a coach for the West Indies as might have been expected. It could well be that he was restricted by several sets of external stimuli. Whatever the cause, he always stuck to his guns.
He also found it necessary to think that even though he was there to help, it was left to the individual player to want to perform. As he told me during that recent ill-fated West Indian tour of South Africa; "While coaching and technology are all good things, the only things that matter when a batsman crosses the boundary ropes on his way to the crease are ability, guts, determination and flexibility. If a batsman does not have at least three of those, he will fail, regardless of whatever coaching or technological devices he uses." Despite us having some battles when it came to the West Indies team's policies, Malcolm and I maintained very healthy communication, and the respect and friendship was always there.
The world has lost one of the best cricketers to have played the game, one who played it in the spirit it was designed to be played, hard but fair. He was always the gentleman. No more will be the swagger of those hips, or the broad smile as another missile whizzed past the helmet. No more will be the always agitated discussions on the merits and demerits of the game of cricket. Malcolm Marshall will be missed by the Caribbean and the rest of the cricketing world. His memories will live on forever.
As for me, I have lost a great friend and team-mate. They seldom come any better than Malcolm Marshall. May he rest in peace while his legacy lives on!!