Shane Warne, the drift, the turn, the legend

Warne’s parents, Keith and Brigitte have flown in for this moment. “First ball in test cricket in England for Shane Warne,” Richie Benaud announces in the BBC commentary box as a shock of blonde hair marks his delivery stride. The next thirty seconds will inspire future generations, be the subject of after-dinner speeches and be talked about in bars, dinner parties and newspaper columns for decades. The ball of the century. A legend is born. 

Shane Warne’s first ball in Ashes cricket starts off in line with the batsman’s heels. As it makes its way through the air towards the batsman, Mike Gatting, the immense amount of spin on the ball causes it to drift even wider, so that by the time it lands, the ball is about a foot further out. But then it lands, grips the surface and turns sharply – bewilderingly – across the batsman. It hits the top of Gatting’s off-stump, having spun approximately two feet. Mike Gatting looks at umpire Dickie Bird, two of the most experienced people in the history of English cricket. Both of them are in complete disbelief at what Michael Atherton described as “the ball that changed cricket”. 

Warne, the eventual man of that June 1993 match with four wickets in each innings, later described it as a “fluke”. That he went on to deliver similarly perfect balls to dismiss Usman Afzaal and Andrew Strauss in future Ashes series, took a record 195 Ashes wickets and was named by Wisden as one of the five best cricketers of all time all suggest that rather than a lucky strike, this was the culmination of hard work, confidence and cold, hard talent. 

On the day in 2022 that Shane Warne died, at the shockingly young age of 52, his victim Gatting would say: “There have been a lot of great cricketers, but Warney will always be the number one.”

Amazingly, cricket was not the career Warne would have chosen. Despite showing early promise at St Kilda CC in suburban Melbourne, he preferred playing for their Aussie rules side, earning the nickname “Hollywood” and making it as far as the reserves. But at 19, he was dropped from that squad by letter. “Your services are no longer required.” Eighteen months later, he was playing cricket for Australia.

Warne had been selected on raw potential and, aged 21, was torn apart by a powerful India side featuring Sachin Tendulkar and Ravi Shastri. It was less than a year since his first-class debut for Victoria in 1991, and he had spent summer in the cold, damp Lancashire League with Accrington, who decided not to retain him for the following season. It looked like another almost-but-not-quite career.

It was Border who gave Warne belief. The captain was unconcerned about the stories he had heard: Warne drank and smoked and had been sent home in disgrace after mooning holidaymakers at the pool while representing the Australian Academy. Undeterred, Border gave Shane Warne permission to be Shane Warne, safe in the knowledge that he would be protected by the big beasts of the Australia team.

Warne remembered sitting on the balcony, dejected, and Border coming to find him, putting an arm around him: “He goes ‘mate, it will all be OK.’ It just gave me such a pick up. He made me believe.”

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On the plane to England, Warne asked his teammate Merv Hughes, the bibulous fast bowler, what an Ashes test was really like. Warne later remembered: “I was expecting this wonderful answer, this spine-tingling stuff from Merv. And he said, ‘Put it this way, England are shit, we’re sponsored by a beer company and there are rest days, so it’s a great tour.’”

It was Hughes who encouraged a nervous Warne to have a few relaxing beers the night before he was to bowl, and who told him, as he prepared to face Gatting: “Bowl one of those big-turning leg breaks.” Warne said: “Mate, I just want to land it, I just want to land it.”

Warne certainly landed it. He took 34 wickets in that 1993 Ashes series and was now the first name on the team sheet of one of the strongest elevens to have ever played cricket. He married Simone, they had three children together and he travelled the world being Shane Warne. The Australian fans loved him, and he finally earned that early nickname of Hollywood. 

In 1999, during a one-day international at the MCG, Warne’s home ground, the crowd were throwing beer bottles and golf balls at England’s Mark Ealham, fielding on the boundary. Captain Alec Stewart called out to the balcony, asking for Warne. He walked out to a baying crowd, put his arm around Stewart in a gesture of solidarity and to defuse the situation took Mark Waugh’s helmet and put it on as he walked over to the boozy hordes, asking them to stop. After roaring at the intervention, the crowd settled down and the game was able to continue.

Some lows matched the highs. There was a one-year drugs ban in 2003 (blamed on a pill from his mother) and the 2005 Ashes marked the end of his marriage, with his infidelities splashed on tabloid front pages.

Warne finished his career with 708 Test wickets, many of them taken by his charisma as much as the ball that was in his hand. He delighted at putting multiple thoughts into a batter’s head and building a sense of occasion. “I wanted to make every single ball an event.”

One ball in particular truly was an event. One that will be remembered for ever by those who have seen the endless replays that will always keep Shane Warne alive. One that will certainly be remembered by the England fan at Old Trafford who confronted the jubilant Australian at the end of his over.

Warne loved to tell the story: “I finished the over and I was starting to walk down to fine leg. About halfway there I was starting to resemble David Hasselhoff in Baywatch [strutting]. As I get a little closer I’m starting to look like Pamela Anderson, I’m that pumped with that ball I’ve just bowled. 

“As I get to the boundary, there’s some guy at the back of the stand. He says: ‘Hey Warne, you prick – I paid 50 quid to watch Mike Gatting bat.’”