Cricket: Battle-hardened Waugh has moved out of the shadows

By Don Cameron

For the first 12 years of his international cricket career Steve Waugh seemed almost an unemotional cipher. Deep-set eyes peering through narrow-slit lids, and no chance of a wide smile coming from those thin lips.

Always there in the face of the opposition batsmen or bowlers, always developing a gritty, self-made style of batsmanship which moved gradually from survival to certainty.

He seemed a man of mystery, the model of the lean, monosyllabic, gum-chewing, poker-faced Australian cricketer. You might admire his cricket, but only from outside the castle wall which contained only the select people Waugh trusted.

But now that Waugh is captain of Australia he seems a new and vital man. Freed from the shadow of Allan Border and then Mark Taylor, Waugh is putting his mark on Australian cricket like no one since Richie Benaud, even Sir Donald Bradman.

In the past two years Waugh may not have changed internally, but he has blossomed in public. The superbly combative cricketer is now a traditionalist, diarist, photographer, philanthropist and humanitarian.

Michael Coward, foremost among cricket writers in Australia, confidently predicts that Stephen Rodger Waugh will become the great Australian cricketer of the 21st century.

Waugh the traditonalist stepped forward when he persuaded the Australian Cricket Board to provide, and his players to wear, caps modelled on the skull-cap type used by Australia's first-test cricketers.

If you look closely at the Australian one-day cap you will notice a number at the back. That was Waugh's idea. Each new player has a new number signifying his place in the scheme of things.

Waugh has a nose for the human story. Two years ago Simon Cook took five wickets in his first test innings against New Zealand at Perth.

After the match Cook's father, who had journeyed across the wide brown land to see his son play, joined Simon in an almost deserted dressing room. Waugh saw them there. He scurried out, found an obliging photographer and persuaded him to photograph father and son glorying in such a notable debut.

"Why?" someone asked Waugh. "It was a scene that might never be repeated," said Waugh. Father and son deserved a photographed place in history.

Waugh was not to know that Cook would play only one more test, the Cooks were never to share again such a moment of joy - but they had the photograph that Waugh had sensed would be important.

Then there was the day in India when Waugh returned to his hotel during a test the Australians were certain to lose in four days, and found a letter that was to change his - and many other's - lives.

It was from Shamia Dudeja, a benefactor for the destitute and desperate (which India possesses in millions) who was connected with a special centre at Udayan, just north of Calcutta. This centre works for the health, welfare and future of young boys whose parents have leprosy.

Only a few of the boys had touches of leprosy, but all suffered from total neglect, the result of the cruel stigmatism coming indirectly from their parents' suffering. At Udayan the boys are given training and education, and those suffering from the disease are most often cured.

Waugh spent the scheduled and unused fifth day of the test visiting Udayan. The lads, 250 of them from seven to 17, treated him like a god. Photographs and autographs were left as priceless mementoes.

Affected by the visit, Waugh asked to be taken to the slums to meet the boys' parents. More than Waugh's heart was touched. So far he has provided some $100,000.

Soon there will be a special wing at Udayan, named in Waugh's honour, and devoted to the care of daughters of leprosy sufferers.

Over now to Sri Lanka, the Australians meeting again with their favourite baggage-man, Siri Siripala.

The Australians found over the years that Siri was struggling to provide a home for his wife and daughter. Each Australian team passed round the hat.

Siri now has a fine home. The locals stoned it during the World Cup because Siri was such an avid Australian supporter. Waugh was a leading man in the "Siri fund."

When Waugh was seriously injured in a sickening on-field collision with Jason Gillespie, Siri was devastated that he could not visit Waugh in hospital. He starved for a day instead.

In recent years Waugh has written tour diaries during his Australian expeditions. They sell between 50,000 and 60,000 copies.

The soft humanitarian side of Waugh may still be pushed aside in the middle of a test match. Waugh is a tough man on the field - as might be expected.

He and his gifted twin Mark had the hard, rugged upbringing that was frequently the lot of lads being reared in the tough western suburbs of Sydney. No Greater Public Schools springboard for the Waughs - simply the fight to survive, and succeed.

Steve Waugh still says hard things on the field. He may direct the comment towards the ground but he ensures opponents hear his words.

As Waugh's reputation has grown so have the stories surrounding him. Waugh carried Australia into the World Cup semifinal last year with a magnificient 120 from 110 balls, to help Australia beat South Africa with five wickets and two balls to spare.

He was still well short of that mark, and Australia was heading for defeat, when he was dropped close-in by Herschelle Gibbs.

It was the crucial catch of the whole World Cup contest, and Waugh was not one to let Gibbs escape.

"How does it feel," Waugh asked Gibbs "to have dropped the World Cup?"