“He was always very apologetic after an incident, but then he would do it again soon after.” - Marais Erasmus on Virat Kohli.
An edited extract from “Marais Erasmus: The Rock ’n Roll Years; Cricket in an Umpire’s Orbit” by Telford Vice (Naledi):
IF the Times of India was impressed when Marais Erasmus hit umpiring’s big time in June 2010, it didn’t say so. Instead, the paper’s headline was, “No Indian in ICC Elite Panel of Umpires”.
India has since become much more aggressively Indian. Erasmus was up close and personal with this growing tendency in a Test in Adelaide in December 2014, the first of Virat Kohli’s 68 as captain. When Varun Aaron, bowling from Erasmus’ end, splattered David Warner’s stumps in the fifth over before tea on the fourth day, Aaron and Kohli rushed towards the departing Australian and unloaded on him verbally. Hang on a second, Erasmus said: let’s check the front foot. Sure enough, Aaron had over-stepped.
Warner never needs an invitation to vent his aggression. He swaggered back to the crease glaring at Aaron and shouting, “Come on! Come on!” Even Kohli, who shares Warner’s hotheadedness, could see the looming danger and tried to calm the pair. While that was happening, non-striker Shane Watson and Shikhar Dhawan tumbled into an argument at the other end of the pitch.
“Come on!” Warner yelled again when he left a delivery. As he ran past Aaron to take a single, he blew the bowler a kiss. A bemused Aaron had no clue what to make of that. He looked like he had realised he had wandered out in public in only his underwear.
The Indians were increasingly incensed: how dare these Australians disrespect us like this. Don’t they know who we are? At home, India’s cricketers are a breath away from gods. In places like Australia, not so much.
Neither Erasmus nor his colleague in that match, Ian Gould, are from the Highveld, but they know what a storm looks like as it rolls towards them. So they put themselves between the belligerents and told them to wind their necks in.
But necks didn’t stay wound in for long. After tea, Steve Smith was almost a third of the way down the pitch when a delivery hit him on the pads. Rohit Sharma appealed, knowing full well there was no chance of success. Erasmus said the obvious: “Not out.”
Smith is a cartoon character of a cricketer, a bundle of nervous ticks and articulatory gestures that make him seem simultaneously absentminded and preoccupied at the crease. So when he cocked his head to stare at Rohit in disbelief, and then shrugged his shoulders and smiled, tops were blown. The Indians do not take well to being made fun of. The Australians think making fun of opponents is a useful tactic.
“What? What?” Rohit demanded of Smith, who stood there smiling. Then Kohli zoomed up from first slip, and suddenly Smith was serious. Hot words were passed back and forth between Smith and Kohli before, of all people, Warner walked from the non-striker’s end to talk some sense into the situation. Again, Erasmus and Gould had to leap into preventative action.
Kohli and Erasmus were on the field together in 20 Tests, 22 ODIs and eight T20Is. That’s enough to know that you’re dealing with an explosive entity. “You always had to manage that and he was always very apologetic after an incident, but then he would do it again soon after,” Erasmus says.
The match was Australia’s first in any format since Phil Hughes was killed by a bouncer while batting for South Australia against New South Wales in a Sheffield Shield game at the SCG on November 25, 2014. With the ball rearing up at him, Hughes first ducked and then — crucially — turned his head away from the approaching delivery, exposing an area of his neck not protected by his helmet. He collapsed on the field, never regained consciousness, and died in hospital two days later. He would have turned 26 three days after that.
The Test series started in Adelaide five days later than it was originally supposed to begin in Brisbane. Hughes was named 13th-man. And for more than three days of the match — nearly 11 sessions — all involved were on their best behaviour. When Aaron’s no-ball bowled Warner, Australia were 193 ahead with nine wickets standing. There were just more than four sessions left in a match that might well have been leaning towards being drawn. And then …
“Everything was so surreally quiet and everybody was respectful,” Erasmus says. “Every Aussie, when he was out, and as he walked past Phil Hughes’ number [he was Australia Test cap No. 408] that had been painted on the outfield, pointed to the heavens. Then this thing happened, and from then on everything was over the top. Emotions were cooped up for a few days, and suddenly all hell broke loose.”
Club Cricket SA
“Marais Erasmus: The Rock ’n Roll Years; Cricket in an Umpire’s Orbit” by Telford Vice is available in bookshops and from Naledi’s site.
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