Ramblings - Written by zoutpiel on Wednesday, March 21, 2007 12:24 - 0 Comments
Bob Woolmer dies
Bob Woolmer died within 24 hours of Pakistan’s shock loss to Ireland. The controversy surrounding how he died is just starting, but ignoring all that - he was a great man, and I felt a sense of loss when I heard the news. Anyone in SA who follows cricket knows what I mean, and understands what he did for the game in SA and the world. Neil Manthorp, SA cricket journalist wrote the following which best sums him up:-
It was more than he could really afford, it was daring and it was one of the most romantic moments anyone could have shared. One of Cape Town’s most tranquil and classy restaurants, hired out in it’s entirety, for a silver wedding anniversary.
There were 50 guests, and from the moment they sat down the whispers began. Following starters and the main course, a menu made up entirely of the lady’s favourites, the guests would need to gather on the driveway while the lady was ‘diverted’ for a few moments.
There they stood, wine glasses in hand, having enjoyed a meal of which few could remember better. Seconds passed before, slowly but surely, a silver sports car was driven amongst us. It had an enormous, silk bow tied around it and a card which read: “Happy Anniversary - love you always, Bob.”
The whisper had alerted everyone to the surprise, everyone that is, but the recipient. The whisper had told us that the lady had dreamed, all her life, of driving an open-topped sports car with the wind blowing in her hair and the scent of the Cape filling her senses.
She was escorted down to the entrance of the driveway by her two sons, clearly bewildered and unaware of the surprise. When she finally focussed on the car, her emotions froze. It was too much to believe.
But then her husband explained his wife’s dream to their guests, explained how critical she had been to his career, declared - after 25 years - his undying love for her, and said he could not think of anyone who deserved more to have their dreams come true than her. Still, she could not believe the evidence of her eyes, which were filled with tears.
When she finally pushed aside the giant ribbon and opened the door to sit behind the wheel, the guests cheered and whooped and danced. None of the guests would ever forget it. Tears and laughter were best friends.
In between tours and other assignments, Bob would stop at nothing to ensure that he and Gill could have at least a couple of days enjoying the passion they shared above all but their boys, Dale and Russell - game parks.
If Bob was away for two weeks or ten weeks, Gill would cope - as ‘cricket widows’ do - and they would catch up with each other in the tranquility of the bush, watching a pride of lions, a stray giraffe or just a humble herd of zebra at the watering hole.
Now Gill is a widow, not a cricket widow, and those days are no more.
To play golf with Bob Woolmer was a lesson in calm. It is impossible to play the stupid game without being frustrated, of course, but if he said it once he said it ten thousand times: “You’ve hit your ball into a lake, nobody died.” It didn’t always calm the rage, but it did, at least, bring a smile to his partner’s face.
After the tie against Australia in the semifinal of the 1999 World Cup, he was the only member of the entire touring squad able to speak, let alone aknowledge their emotions, for many hours. In some cases, days. He was dignified, honest and even generous in what he always described later as the darkest hour of his entire career as a player and coach.
If he could handle that, he could handle Pakistan losing to Ireland. Oh God, Bob, surely you could have handled that. As you said so many times, it was just a game. I know you handled it. I know you coped. You were one of the strongest and most honest men I ever met. Perhaps it was just your time to leave.
It saddens me deeply to hear former players describe Woolmer as having “lived and breathed cricket every hour of the day” because he did not. He was devoted and passionate about cricket, certainly, but he never lacked a sense of perspective and his family came before anything else. To say Bob Woolmer lived for cricket is to imply he was one-dimensional. The opposite is true.
Whenever in Cape Town, Bob loved a good meal out. Thai food was his favourite. The last time my wife and I joined Bob and Gill for grilled ginger fish, his favourite, was one of the best of many meals we shared. He was laughing about the peculiar and even scary pressures of coaching Pakistan. He dismissed the concerns of the table.
“Don’t worry about me,” he smiled, “I’ll be the last person to die of a heart attack. I’ve seen it all - been there, done that.”
If it was, indeed, a heart attack that took him away, it will be one of the very, very few things he ever got wrong.
The very best years of Bob’s life lay before him. His own academy was taking root, the long months of touring were coming to an end after the World Cup, the three-day breaks in game parks with Gill were about to become two-week holidays and he was going to be able to play golf once a week rather than once a month.
Bob always said cricket wasn’t fair. Fortunately he isn’t here to witness just how unfair life can be.
He pioneered the reverse-sweep, revolutionised one-day cricket and laid down coaching foundations to stand for 50 years. He coached in townships when he and Gill were virtually bankrupt in the late 1980s. He set records which may never be broken with Warwickshire in the county championship and he mentored more young players than can be counted.
But more than anything else, he was a generous, loving, decent and honest human being.
Bob Woolmer may be gone, but his name and legacy will live on. He will be missed. Deeply.
There were 50 guests, and from the moment they sat down the whispers began. Following starters and the main course, a menu made up entirely of the lady’s favourites, the guests would need to gather on the driveway while the lady was ‘diverted’ for a few moments.
There they stood, wine glasses in hand, having enjoyed a meal of which few could remember better. Seconds passed before, slowly but surely, a silver sports car was driven amongst us. It had an enormous, silk bow tied around it and a card which read: “Happy Anniversary - love you always, Bob.”
The whisper had alerted everyone to the surprise, everyone that is, but the recipient. The whisper had told us that the lady had dreamed, all her life, of driving an open-topped sports car with the wind blowing in her hair and the scent of the Cape filling her senses.
She was escorted down to the entrance of the driveway by her two sons, clearly bewildered and unaware of the surprise. When she finally focussed on the car, her emotions froze. It was too much to believe.
But then her husband explained his wife’s dream to their guests, explained how critical she had been to his career, declared - after 25 years - his undying love for her, and said he could not think of anyone who deserved more to have their dreams come true than her. Still, she could not believe the evidence of her eyes, which were filled with tears.
When she finally pushed aside the giant ribbon and opened the door to sit behind the wheel, the guests cheered and whooped and danced. None of the guests would ever forget it. Tears and laughter were best friends.
In between tours and other assignments, Bob would stop at nothing to ensure that he and Gill could have at least a couple of days enjoying the passion they shared above all but their boys, Dale and Russell - game parks.
If Bob was away for two weeks or ten weeks, Gill would cope - as ‘cricket widows’ do - and they would catch up with each other in the tranquility of the bush, watching a pride of lions, a stray giraffe or just a humble herd of zebra at the watering hole.
Now Gill is a widow, not a cricket widow, and those days are no more.
To play golf with Bob Woolmer was a lesson in calm. It is impossible to play the stupid game without being frustrated, of course, but if he said it once he said it ten thousand times: “You’ve hit your ball into a lake, nobody died.” It didn’t always calm the rage, but it did, at least, bring a smile to his partner’s face.
After the tie against Australia in the semifinal of the 1999 World Cup, he was the only member of the entire touring squad able to speak, let alone aknowledge their emotions, for many hours. In some cases, days. He was dignified, honest and even generous in what he always described later as the darkest hour of his entire career as a player and coach.
If he could handle that, he could handle Pakistan losing to Ireland. Oh God, Bob, surely you could have handled that. As you said so many times, it was just a game. I know you handled it. I know you coped. You were one of the strongest and most honest men I ever met. Perhaps it was just your time to leave.
It saddens me deeply to hear former players describe Woolmer as having “lived and breathed cricket every hour of the day” because he did not. He was devoted and passionate about cricket, certainly, but he never lacked a sense of perspective and his family came before anything else. To say Bob Woolmer lived for cricket is to imply he was one-dimensional. The opposite is true.
Whenever in Cape Town, Bob loved a good meal out. Thai food was his favourite. The last time my wife and I joined Bob and Gill for grilled ginger fish, his favourite, was one of the best of many meals we shared. He was laughing about the peculiar and even scary pressures of coaching Pakistan. He dismissed the concerns of the table.
“Don’t worry about me,” he smiled, “I’ll be the last person to die of a heart attack. I’ve seen it all - been there, done that.”
If it was, indeed, a heart attack that took him away, it will be one of the very, very few things he ever got wrong.
The very best years of Bob’s life lay before him. His own academy was taking root, the long months of touring were coming to an end after the World Cup, the three-day breaks in game parks with Gill were about to become two-week holidays and he was going to be able to play golf once a week rather than once a month.
Bob always said cricket wasn’t fair. Fortunately he isn’t here to witness just how unfair life can be.
He pioneered the reverse-sweep, revolutionised one-day cricket and laid down coaching foundations to stand for 50 years. He coached in townships when he and Gill were virtually bankrupt in the late 1980s. He set records which may never be broken with Warwickshire in the county championship and he mentored more young players than can be counted.
But more than anything else, he was a generous, loving, decent and honest human being.
Bob Woolmer may be gone, but his name and legacy will live on. He will be missed. Deeply.
Most Popular Content
- Alternate domain extensions
- Jolene (White Stripes)
- Paul wins!
- Eina
- What's become of Plett??
- Oregan gets a new arsehole
- A bit of Opera
- Non-racist plasters
- June Blogwatch
- MTB'ing beautiful Sydney trails
- Battle at Kruger
- "I'm not disabled, I just don't have any legs."
- Oscar Pistorius still charging
- Tragedy in my Street
- Flight of the Conchords
- Test Your Awareness
- Seth Godin on Urgency
- Go Johnny
- Eish, where to now South Africa?
- Sorry for stealing your children
- Matt Mullenweg Interview
- Our Weapons were our Instruments
- Clem Sunter talks China and SA
- Alternate domain extensions
- Wordpress set for Act 2
- Goodbye Sir Ed
- [...] I wrote about his history here [...]...
- [...] video is awesome!!! I found it on zoutpiel.com - Battle at Kruger. Nature...
- I figured it out with my Afrikaans. But unfortunately found that .an domains ca...
- Hi
I looked at that site to register an .an domain but its in Dutch! How did...
- Yeah, some good domain names can be created. ;)...
- Hey dude - glad to hear at least one airline is cottoning onto the 'overweight' ...
- Crapsticks - just reading back through your posts now. That is, like, one helluv...
- Maaaaate....crikey... you need to pay attention... oh and watch out for those dr...
- Oi, achei teu blog pelo google tá bem interessante gostei desse post. Quando der...
- Hi Jin, They are a minmalist rock band from Detroit (Jack on guitar, Meg on drum...
Music, South Africa - Mar 6, 2008 12:29 - 0 Comments
Go Johnny
More In South Africa
- Eish, where to now South Africa?
- Clem Sunter talks China and SA
- Lucky Dube killed
- Hemp for a Healthy Planet
- 19,202 murders in one year
Leave a Reply