The King of Sledge is dead

Saw Steve Tugga Waugh bow out today at the SCG. Was lucky enough to get a seat in the Members stand where I could sit amongst the rich and the cricket tragics to watch the last innings of an Australian captain who has taken sledging to new heights. To be fair though, this is not all he should be remembered for.

At the start of today Australia required a record total in order to overhaul the Indians, who had played well to reach an unimaginable 705 in their first innings. You could smell it around the ground though, Australia just might, given a bit of luck and a reversal in form from some players, slash their way to a fairytale victory. By tea though it was all over. Martyn came in and seemed to slow the scoring painfully. Block after f**king block. The crowd told him to have a go. Some called for the increased police presence to arrest him. Finally he got out, you could hear the sighs of relief when he muffed one to a short fine leg and the star of the show was allowed to take the crease.

Waugh's first runs came in the form of a 4 aimed directly at the Members. You could tell they thought it was only fitting. You could also tell though that even the cricket purists were hoping he would go the tonk and really give the run chase a go. It didn't really eventuate though. No doubt Steve thought, at 5pm with the score at 4 for 265, 178 still required, that the win was still there to be had. We all knew he was not the sort of bloke to just back off and block to save the match.

In the end emotion got the better of him. As his score crept up and he seemed to have found a decent partner in Katich, he started making some shots. Then he started slashing. It was not to last though. He was caught on the boundary attempting a go over the fence, by Tendulkar. As the ball hung in the air the crowd willed the fieldsman to drop it. When he didn't there was a moment of almost silence when the crowd seemed to expect that he might drop it, out of courteousy. It was not to be though. He held it. The crowd booed for a moment then turned their attentions to Waugh. Grown men charged over to the player's run, spilling beer all the way, hoping to lay their hands on the great man's back. Being five foot nothing I was swamped by big blokes almost weeping into their liquor and didn't catch a glimpse of the man as he made his exit.