Stephen Fleming - New Zealand's captain
By Dave Crowe
From CricInfo, 24 March 1999
He was always destined for success because his languid
class as a superior left-hand batsman was evident from
primary school days in Christchurch. There was no great
family tradition in cricket for Stephen but his mother
encouraged him then and still does today. She also raised
a fine young man, a person of grace and character with
a more steely side to him than might be suspected at
first glance. His first test match at Hamilton all but
produced a remarkable concurrence, a debut century.
Remarkable because New Zealand's record shows only four
of these, all left-handers. Jack Mills, back in 1929/30,
then a long wait till Bruce Taylor in 1965, the meteoric
Rodney Redmond in 1973 and Mark Greatbatch in 1988.
Fleming had the first qualification, that of being sinister,
and he demonstrated so much of the other skills that
he reached 92.
He had scored 67 by stumps on the fourth day and in
a shade over four hours looked certain to join the memorable
sinister four until suddenly Kapil Dev caught him at
mid-wicket. A new star had arrived and he soon confirmed
this with 90 in his first One- Day International. Then
it took an age before he finally managed his first test
century, against England at Eden Park in 1997. He had
passed the half-century mark so many times that comparisons
with Australian opener Bobby Simpson were rampant. Unlike
Simpson, whose maiden century was a triple, Stephen
settled for 129 but it was a gratifying moment for those
of us who knew it was only a matter of time.
Since then he has distinguished himself with a mammoth
174 not out in Sri Lanka and is now approaching 2,500
runs in his 40 Test matches with an average in the high
30s. In one-Day Internationals he has thrived in the
ultimate test, scoring centuries against Australia including
one at that cauldron, the MCG. Initially Fleming's tenancy
of first slip was marred by a hesitancy in going down
low. It seemed he was almost too laid back, too relaxed
for such a quick reflex position. He quietly worked
on this to the extent he now holds the joint world record
of five catches in a test innings, standing alone with
seven in the match at Harare in 1997/98.
This distinguished record would stand proud if it
were not for his assumption of the New Zealand captaincy
at a time when dire straits prevailed. The administration
of the game in New Zealand had deteriorated to the point
where, mercifully, a review led by the redoubtable Sir
John Anderson saw an elected council replaced by a board
of hand-picked professional business people with cricketing
backgrounds. Amongst the head-hunted for CEO was a former
opera singer, Christopher Doig, who had a useful sporting
record and success in the organisation of arts festivals
in Christchurch and Wellington. He set about recruiting
a support team and took the hard decisions about the
key roles of coach, selector and captain.
His inherited scenario was coach Glenn Turner, who
had chosen Lee Germon to lead the international side
without any previous playing experience at that level.
Germon was a useful Canterbury 'keeper-batsman who could
be relied upon to support Turner's demagogic style.
The problem was that while Turner had a franchise with
the public, through his clever manipulation of the media,
he lacked the respect of the players. They resented
the schoolmasterish, 'my way' methods that brooked no
alternatives.
Some of the more free-spirited actively expressed
their resentment, like Chris Cairns and Adam Parore.
It was Doig who selected the Australian Steve Rixon
for coach, and who appointed former All Black captain
John Graham as the Black Caps team manager. Why an Aussie
and why a rugby player/schoolmaster? Surely these appointments
were also anathema?
Why the return of Ross Dykes as convenor of selectors?
He was the man who had served on the pre-Turner panel
and then withdrew rather than compromise his principles.
Dykes had never played test cricket but is a sound reader
of the game, as my elder son Jeff would testify when
together they led Auckland through its most successful
era.
It has taken time to see the benefits of Doig's astute
judgement. Through this trying period Stephen Fleming
became New Zealand captain, replacing the honest but
limited Germon, whose association with the now former
coach Turner doomed him amongst his peers. It meant
that Parore could be played as a 'keeper-batsman again,
thus improving the balance of the side.
In his Life Lines Fleming says that he desires
to become New Zealand's most successful captain, as
well as the most prolific run-scorer. He is already
the leading captain with a win ratio superior to all.
It will take him time to achieve his other goals but
he is already well on course. He also wishes to leave
the game with no regrets.
He need have no fears on this count. Through all the
traumatic changes in New Zealand cricket Stephen Fleming
stood firm. He admits he was hurried into the captaincy
and it was a case of learning on the job. He found it
daunting to graduate from one of the guys to being the
leader. He didn't want to sacrifice his friendships.
He has succeeded in strengthening them, for the players
grant him unstinted respect. He had to miss the Third
Test with India (and the First against South Africa)
and his replacement, Dion Nash, performed superbly in
his stead. The media wanted Nash to claim the captaincy,
or at least endorse his claims. 'No way,' said Nash,
'we can't wait for Steve to get back and take over again.'
Fleming has been transformed. Now he consults the
advisers, rather than team management consulting him.
He has developed in the role, and you can see it in
his expression. There is now a hard line to the jaw,
a set expression of determination. There is a rigid
maintenance of those principles that served him so well
during all the troubles. It means that Stephen Fleming
will never use destructive comment, for there is not
a mean bone in him. Rather, there is a hard frame that
is the platform to the accomplishment of his goals.
About his batting. He has that precious virtue of
most left-handed batsmen, the graceful off-drive from
almost any length. If the ball is short he simply holds
the shot and plays later, still from the front foot.
If wide he allows the ball to reach a spot parallel
with the front foot and then unleashes that glorious
stroke, the square-drive. When pitched really short
Steve just comes back and gives it the high hands and
full follow-through. From these sumptuous strokes a
boundary oft ensues.
Stephen is almost unfairly handsome, tall and willow
of build, with dark burning eyes and an apparently nonchalant
attitude. The eyes give him away. He doesn't say much
but he turns things over in his mind. He doesn't worry
about the limelight but he is always willing to oblige
for interviews and information. A discussion with Stephen
Fleming is a test, for he is quick to grasp complex
issues and to reduce them to size. He answers briefly
and with articulation.
It wasn't always thus. He has had to learn to deal
with the publicity and on the dark days has kept an
equilibrium that makes him one of his country's admired
sportsmen. He has worked on his own game, and that of
his team, with dedication and commitment. He will have
his dark days, as do we all, but he will continue to
conduct himself with that decorum and dignity which
marks a true cricketer.
|