4 March is the day, as recent as 1922, when Shane Warne passed.
Australia lost its “King of Spin” such was his stature as one of our finest ever cricketers.
He was only 52, and left behind an ex-wife, partners, three children and his parents, as well as a grieving nation.
Shane’s death shocked every Australian cricket fan, as well as his admirers around the world. He was a force of nature, a stone cold genius, a once-in-a-generation talent.
When he arrived on the Test scene in the early ‘90s, leg spin (at least outside the subcontinent) was not so much a dying art as one practically being given the last rites.
Warnie changes all that. In his freakishly strong and dextrous hands leg spin became a weapon, swashbuckling and sexy. The ‘ball of the century’ to Mike Gatting in 1993 made him an instant superstar - ‘Gatting still doesn’t know what’s happened’ said Richie Benaud on commentary as the bewildered batsman left the field shaking his head - and that level of attention and fame never let up. Wherever Warne was, that was where you’d find the action: and, as often as not, that was where you’d find trouble too.
Yes, his life had extremes and his off-field indiscretions were as integral a part of his persona as his cricketing talent. Affairs, bookmakers, diuretic pills: you name it, he’d get himself involved. But there was never any malice in what he did, with the tragedy being that seemingly he was his own worst victim.
As so often with flawed geniuses, Warne was never happier than when out in the middle. For Warne, it was home. His cricketing brain was second to none, he understood the game’s myriad of intricacies better than all but a handful of those who’ve ever played, and he relished the competition like no other. When he was bowling, it was impossible to tell the score simply from his body language. Australia could have been a wicket away from winning the Ashes or they could have been 500 behind, but either way he would be bowling just the same: menacing, posturing, scheming, chuntering, grinning, totally engrossed in and loving not just the battle but the whole theatre of it too.
His statistics, stellar though they are, don’t show the effect he had on both the opposition and his team-mates, the times he’d run through teams like a fox in a chicken coop, a sorcerer causing pure havoc. And on the few occasions he came off second best, he was always the first to offer congratulations, and they were invariably sincere and generous.
Death came.
But the legend will never die.
Statistics say some of it: Warne played 145 Tests between 1992 and 2007, and his 708 Test wickets was the highest total taken at the time of his death.
“Warnie 350”, the cricket legend’s Test cap number, is written on the grass at the MCG, where he now has the former Great Southern Stand named in his honour.
The real truth is what the ordinary Aussie feels when the next test starts, when the next Australian spinner attempts to weave some magic, it’s only then that the measure of his rare talent lives forever in the memory.
RIP Shane Keith Warne
Fun Fact about Shane Warne:
- Shane Warne admitted that he had Heterochromia, a condition in which an individual has two different shades colours of eyes.
"To me, cricket is a simple game. Keep it simple and just go out and play."
"Part of the art of bowling spin is to make the batsman think something special is happening when it isn't."
"You can't be afraid to fail. That's how you learn to win."
“Never give up; just absolutely never give up.”
View attachment 34845
View attachment 34846
View attachment 34847



