Martin Crowe, who has died aged 53 of lymphatic cancer, was certainly one of the greatest batsman ever to play for New Zealand, with 17 Test centuries to his name; as a personality, however, his reputation was more complicated.
Extraordinary talent tends to set a man apart, and some of those who played cricket with Crowe, or who worked with him, found him remote, prickly and unpredictable. During his last years he himself came to acknowledge these difficulties.
In his autobiography, Raw, published in 2013, Crowe faced up to his flaws and attributed them to the fact that his youth had been completely swallowed up by cricket. He had never, he reckoned, enjoyed the chance to develop as a properly rounded personality.
Such were his gifts that he played for Auckland Under-23s at 14, for New Zealand Under-20s at 15, and won his first Test cap at 19. Under this stress, he admitted, “that innocent boy became a man who harboured grudges, he became the record-holder for grievances … a disconnected spirit and soul overwhelmed by the ego and the emotional instability created from my unfinished teenage development.”
Martin David Crowe was born at Henderson, Auckland, on September 22 1962. His father David had played for both Wellington and Central Districts in the 1950s, though his children considered that the real talent for games lay with their mother.
Whatever the truth, sporting genes were very successfully transmitted. Martin’s brother Jeff, four years older, would score three Test centuries and captain New Zealand in the 1980s. Everyone liked Jeff. “People see Jeff as the ultimate diplomat, the nicer guy,” Martin wryly reflected. “I’m Darth Vader.”
The film star Russell Crowe, born in 1964 and also a keen sportsman, is a cousin of the brothers. In about 1900, their mutual Crowe ancestor had run a wholesale fruit and vegetable business in Wrexham, north Wales.
At Auckland Grammar School Martin was not merely a dazzlingly talented cricketer; he played in the rugby XV with the future All Black Grant Fox, and was also outstanding at golf and tennis. In January 1980, aged 17, he made his first-class cricket debut for Auckland against Canterbury, top-scoring with an innings of 51.
Yet it was another two years before Crowe made his first century for Auckland. Immediately, in February 1982, aged 19, he was thrust into the New Zealand side to confront Australia at Wellington. The opposition, which included the fearsome fast bowlers Dennis Lillee and Jeff Thomson, could scarcely have been more daunting, and in his first three Tests Crowe failed to make any mark.
But it was his own team mates who really worried him. “Only John Wright welcomed me into the team,” Crowe remembered. “The captain [Geoff Howarth] called me a show pony the whole time, and treated me like s---. The Australians Greg Chappell and Rod Marsh were nicer to me than my own team mates.”
On New Zealand’s tour of England in 1983 Crowe batted superbly against the counties, scoring three hundreds, but failed to make any great mark in the Test matches.
Back in New Zealand in February 1984, however, he helped to save the first Test against England at Wellington with his maiden Test century. New Zealand would go on to win their first series against England.
Up to this stage Crowe’s Test record had been far from outstanding. His batting, however, took a decisive leap forward when, in 1984, he took the place of Viv Richards (appearing for the West Indies that summer) in the Somerset side. This was a daunting challenge, and Crowe’s experience of the county championship began disastrously, with five low scores. In June, however, he showed himself worthy of comparison with Richards with four centuries in four successive matches.
In particular Crowe recalled the last of these games, against Leicestershire at Taunton, when he had to confront the relentlessly hostile West Indies fast bowler Andy Roberts on a flying wicket. In the battle for survival he found himself relying on instinct rather than theory; in his own words, he stopped thinking and started batting. At the end of Somerset’s innings he was still there, 70 not out. And when the county batted again on a more placid wicket, needing 341 to win, he carried them home with a score of 190.
Besides scoring 1,870 runs that season, he also took 44 wickets with his lively in-swingers. Above all, after his difficulties with New Zealand, he had found a measure of content with Somerset.
He would return to the county in 1987, in difficult circumstances after the controversial sacking of Viv Richards and Joel Garner, and the concomitant departure of Ian Botham. Although some lunatic supporters, outraged at the loss of their heroes, sent death threats, Crowe again performed superbly, scoring six centuries and averaging 67 over the summer.
Crowe – “Hogan” to his team mates – was now in his prime. Always immaculately turned out, he naturally drew attention on the pitch, whether in the field and at the crease. He could play all the strokes, being especially strong with the hook and the pull, and spectacular with his cover driving. Even against the fastest bowling he always seemed to have time to shape his response.
This was especially evident at Georgetown in April 1985, when, in an innings of 188 against the West Indies, he was completely at ease against the attack of Malcolm Marshall, Joel Garner and Michael Holding. Later that year, he scored another 188 against the Australians at Brisbane.
Now Test centuries seemed almost a matter of course: 137 against Australia at Christchurch early in 1986, despite being felled by a bouncer from Bruce Reid; 106 against England at Lord’s that July; 119 and 104 in successive matches against the West Indies in New Zealand early in 1987; 137 against Australia at Adelaide later that year; 143 against England at Wellington in March 1988; 174 on the same ground against Pakistan in February 1989; and 113 against India at Auckland in February 1990.
Later in 1990 Crowe took over the captaincy of New Zealand. His record as skipper was unimpressive, for he gained only two victories in 17 Tests. Although a fine tactician, he proved unable to inspire his players, who found him hard to read – matey one moment, explosive the next.
There were complaints that he courted publicity, even – shock, horror – in women’s magazines. Certainly he seemed incapable of the genial philistinism expected of a New Zealand sportsman.
“Martin cultivates that class thing with all his talk about wine and fine restaurants,” complained a former team-mate, John Bracewell. “That irritates the Hell out of everybody outside Auckland.” There were also ugly, and unsubstantiated, rumours about Crowe’s sex life.
Yet through all these stresses he remained the master batsman. Against Pakistan at Lahore in October 1990, he was left on 108 not out as the rest of the batting collapsed around him.
The following February at Wellington he saved a Test against Sri Lanka with his highest score, 299, smashing his bat in frustration at missing a treble century as he returned to the pavilion. With Andrew Jones, however, he had put on 467, then the highest partnership in Test history, and even today in third place.
There had been plots to replace Crowe as captain before the world cup of 1992, held in Australia and New Zealand. In the event, though, this tournament proved his finest hour. Not only was he in superb form with the bat, scoring 456 runs at an average of 114; he also proved a master tactician, introducing a new ploy by opening the bowling with Dipak Patel, an off-spinner.
In the semi-final, against Pakistan, Crowe top-scored with 91, but tore a hamstring and was unable to field and guide New Zealand’s tactics. Pakistan won by four wickets with six balls remaining. This did not prevent Crowe being chosen as Player of the Tournament.
Though increasingly handicapped by a recurring knee problem, he continued to score heavily: 140 against Zimbabwe at Harare in November 1992; 107 against Sri Lanka at Colombo a month later.
That was his last match as New Zealand captain, but by no means the end of the complaints against him. Critics accused him of undermining his successor Ken Rutherford.
Crowe’s last tour of England, in 1994, yielded his final two Test centuries, 142 at Lord’s and 115 at Old Trafford. But in 1995 two series, in South Africa and in India, proved chiefly that he should have retired. At the end of the Indian tour he did so.
He had played in 77 Tests, scoring 5,444 runs (second among New Zealand batsmen only to Stephen Fleming, who appeared in 34 more Tests) at an average of 45.36. He also took 14 Test wickets at 48.28 apiece; and held 71 catches.
In New Zealand Crowe had played successively for Auckland (1979-83), Central Districts (1983-90) and Wellington (1990-95), always hungry for runs. In a total of 247 first-class matches he scored 19,608 runs (including 71 centuries) at an average of 56.02. As a bowler he claimed 119 wickets at 33.69. He took 226 catches.
After retiring as a player, Crowe tried unavailingly to establish Cricket Max, a version of the short game which served as a forerunner of Twenty20, albeit with each side having two innings of 10 overs each.
Between 1997 and 2012 he worked for Sky Television, appearing as adept as ever at arousing opposition. In 2008 a spell as Chief Cricket Officer with Royal Challengers Bangladesh proved short-lived. Yet he was always eager to help young cricketers.
In 2009 a second marriage, to Lorraine Downes, Miss Universe in 1983, seemed to bring Crowe some peace. When, three years later, he was diagnosed with lymphoma, a cancer of the immune system, he confronted his situation with great fortitude.
Previously, he said, he had worn a mask; now he was ready to look at “the real me”. “I want a life that is fearless,” he wrote in 2013, “that is without judgment or scrutiny, let alone have any negative motions of hate, resentment or grievance. I am so tired of that life, of fighting, of ego, of trying to win opinion and of needing acceptance.”
The cancer went into remission in 2013, but this respite proved brief. Yet Crowe kept up his interest in cricket to the end, writing on-line commentaries on the world cup, and even turning out as 12th man, substituting for Sir Ian Botham, for a charity match in February 2015.
Previously, he had contributed an article to Wisden 2014, attacking sledging, and pleading for a kindlier approach to the game.
“The truth is,” he wrote, “we have all been guilty of taking cricket too seriously. Instead we should consider the consequence ofWINNING at any cost. Sport is an athletic activity, not a religion or a ritual. It’s not about life or death. It needs to be natural, light, free, healthy and humane.
“When we add in boring made-up and acted-out elements, we miss the point. winning becomes not merely everything, it becomes the only thing. It’s not. Loving and learning are.”
In addition to Raw, Crowe also wrote For The Love Of The Game (1991) and Out On A Limb (1995).
In February 2015, he was inducted into the ICC’s Hall of Fame. He had been appointed MBE in 1992.
His first marriage, in 1991, to Simone Curtice, an interior designer, was dissolved. In 2003 he had a daughter, Emma, with Suzanne Taylor. His second wife, Lorraine Downes, who had previously been married to the All Black Murray Mexted, survives him.
Martin Crowe, born September 22 1962, died March 3 2016
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