Over a career, one makes friends or enemies of those one writes about. Some remain in one of those categories lifelong, others move from one to the other. Some forget quickly, others maintain a lasting grudge. This is the nature of the profession, perhaps of human behaviour itself. Occasionally you inherit a rancour directed at someone else.
This is what happened with the late Bob Simpson, a boyhood hero I first met during the tied Test in Chennai. As soon as the match ended, I rushed to meet him for his unique take as the only man to have witnessed the only two tied Tests in history. In Brisbane in 1960-61, against the West Indies, he had made 92 before being bowled by Sonny Ramadhin. He also dismissed Joe Solomon twice with his leg-breaks.
Over a quarter century later, Simpson was Australia’s coach in Chennai and may or may not have influenced skipper Alan Border to declare the score at the overnight 170 for five, setting India 348 to win on the final day. A colleague wrote that Simpson had indeed influenced Border — but for some reason, Simpson, the man who plotted the revival of Australian cricket from that period, was upset at this.
He told me so many years later in England, where he was now the consultant of the Indian team at the World Cup. I was reporting and went up to him to say hello. I don’t want to speak to you he said, because your newspaper said I had asked Border to declare in Chennai.
Two things impressed me. His memory for what was a minor incident, and his lack of humour. I wasn’t surprised to read an Aussie obituary (by Gideon Haigh) which said, “there aren’t any funny stories about Simmo, leathery, insouciant and unregretful; he was a hard man.”
That is an important lesson for Indian coaches who know which side their BCCI bread is buttered, and say ‘yes’ to their masters with as much vehemence as they say ‘No’ to anybody unlikely to advance their careers. But there are more important lessons from Simpson who was Mr. Cricket, playing nearly every role in the game from player to administrator, missing out only on umpiring. He made his First-Class debut at 16, and for six decades was involved in the game in some capacity.
When Australia lost players to Kerry Packer, he was a 41-year-old knight in shining armour, leading them to a win over India and scoring two centuries. When Australia went without a win in three years, he put on his armour again, now as coach and transformed a young side which went on to win the World Cup in 1987 and the Ashes two years later.
At the World Cup, he emphasised the importance of taking singles; common sense was his guide. Regarding the Chennai declaration, I never worked out whether he didn’t want to claim credit for something he didn’t do, or the blame for something that he did.
Published on Aug 31, 2025