Book Review: Miller's Luck, by Roland Perry.

by Ben Roberts, a re-post from our affiliate Book Review blog, Books with Balls.

I entered into this book with trepidation. For a long time I have been searching for a Keith Miller biography that was not this effort by Roland Perry, with no luck. One of the great cricket writers David Frith was scathing in his review of Perry's work, citing multiple factual errors that grated on him. Similar critiques have been provided by Gideon Haigh and even by ourselves.  I scoured second hand book stores, and found all that filled their shelves were multiple copies of Miller's Luck by Roland Perry.

Courtesy: randomhouse.com.au

Deflated that my searching had come to nothing, I swallowed my pride, took my desire to find out more about Miller to the local library and lifted a copy shelf. As I found out as I read it a previous borrower had too become so frustrated with errors (though their frustrations were World War II facts) that they had taken to the book with a pen themselves!

Without even re-hashing the factual inaccuracies of the work, simply put this biography is deplorably written. Rather than a study of a complex and polarising character, Perry serves up 500 pages of hero worshipping that completely turns you off as you read. Miller was a tremendous all-round cricketing talent and a war veteran who escaped death multiple times (often due his own insubordination). However he also was a heavy drinker, addicted gambler and constant philanderer that makes the overriding rhetoric of hero worship difficult to justify.

As a cricketing talent he could easily be worshipped; a war veteran, definitely respected. Limited to discussion primarily on these two topics such a subjective take on the man could well be accepted. But the reality was that for all the success Miller had on field it clearly came at a very heavy cost to his family which is an indictment on the man, an impression that Perry has not sufficiently captured and in fact missed completely.

Because of the books length and quantity of information provided (despite factual errors) the dedicated and discerning reader has the opportunity to draw their own conclusions about Miller and his life. Absolutely, the descriptions of Miller's love affair with Lords and the tremendous innings he played there during the post war years make me long to travel back in time, but in all the book fails on a number of fronts. Zero stars.

Book review: Bradman's Invincibles by Roland Perry

A re-post from our Book Review affiliate site, Books With Balls.

A number of cricket teams will live long in history, having books written about them and having their relative merits forever debated. The most recent of those, the Australians who dominated cricket for fifteen years to 2008 developed a storied reputation perhaps tarnished by a lack of quality lasting opposition. The West Indian team preceding them did the same for nearly twenty years.

Perhaps the most revered cricket team of all was the 1948 Invincibles, who completed an arduous six month tour of England without a loss. The tour was a perfect fusion of circumstances: Bradman's final First Class matches, a cricket-starved world following the Second World War needing non-combatant heroes and finally, a collation of talent probably unrivalled to that time.

In his work Bradman's Invincibles Roland Perry has created a work which, while perfunctory and informative, is also quite swayed by his own opinions. Perry, a renowned cricket writer who spent a number of years in conversation with Sir Donald Bradman and collaborated with him on several works, appears to think that Bradman's word on matters of cricket is absolute and completely true. He has taken every word he could trawl from The Don and turned it into a misguided four-hundred page tome with little point. What should have been a celebration has been turned into a trudging day-by-day commentary..

Bradman was undoubtedly the greatest cricketer of all time and even during the 1948 Invincibles tour where he turned forty, was Australia's best batsman. He has also suffered somewhat from revisionism, where posthumous revelations as to his character have begun to unfairly detract from his cricketing legacy. These "revelations" should only add to that legacy - of a genius batsman and excellent captain who wanted - and mostly got - his own way, often at others' expense. Any negative character traits are nonexistent on paper.

Relying on one source for the vast majority of one's sources is a mistake, both for one's credibility and entertainment. He has taken The Don's word as gospel in book which would have been much richer for an Old Testament, Letters and Apocrypha. Perry has little affinity for beautiful prose, writing economically, occasionally repetitively and with no flair for either detail or accuracy. His style expects the reader to be in constant wonderment at the achievements of that squad rather than providing the full picture demanded by such an seminal tour.

Neither has the skill of analogy, often comparing players across generations in a hackneyed and awkward style - even using the same comparison twice in three pages. There are several factual errors and those who opposed Sir Don Bradman's absolute rule are portrayed in an unflattering light. Though the book stretches to 430 pages, the last one-hundred and seventy of those is given over to potted biographies of the tourists and their vanquished opponents, which, while providing some interesting details is more an annoyance than enjoyable. This follows a passage where the author says it would be pointless to compare "Greatest Ever" teams and then proceeds to do so.

That's not to say that it is scarce of redeeming features. Bradman's Invincibles provides an interesting peek into some aspects of cricket in the late 1940s, where towels shoved under shirts and trousers became makeshift thigh and chest guards and breakfast in ration-enforced England consisted of half a piece of toast and a mushroom. The lack of "nets" was mildly surprising, but understandable given the amount of cricket played. Most surprising of all, perhaps, was that both Bill Johnston and Keith Miller often resorted to spin depending on the circumstances of the game; though this in itself is questionable given Perry's unfortunate failure to grasp the difference between leg- and off-cutters.

Bradman's Invincibles is hardly a revolutionary work. It holds interest - perhaps because it's the first cricket book I've read in months (years?) - but is disappointingly perfunctory and poorly rounded.

Golf balls - two stars - (hit repeatedly against a tank stand with a cricket stump).

Image courtesy the sadly departed borders.com.au

The Bradman Legacy, shifted

Ben Roberts.

Appointed in an autocratic fashion by his father, my newborn son’s favourite toy is his ‘Bradman’ teddy bear. The bear is of standard teddy bear appearance except for the addition of a school tie promoting academic excellence and the green cap promoting cricketing excellence. These two fields of excellence are what the Bradman foundation continues to promote (through means other than just teddy bear sales) now over ten years post Sir Donald’s passing.

It isn’t any paternal desire for my son to achieve academic or cricketing success (though they unashamedly exist) that I write this piece. It is the realisation that he has been born into a generation that will relate to the monumental figure of Bradman so much differently than those preceding him. He is the first generation in 100 years not to have lived during Bradman’s lifetime.
Bradman passed away just as I was entering University. My childhood had a vision of Bradman as being more than just the greatest batsman but really a deified entity. Despite Bradman being the greatest batsman of all time he was considered more even than a national icon that had raised spirits during the Great Depression and Second World War and a servant of the game long after his playing days ceased. Such positive reflection of the Don was only increased by stage managed puffy journalistic pieces such as Ray Martin’s late 1990s interview with the Don.
Many a journalist has been treated with contempt at trying to reveal anything remotely negative. Jim Maxwell tried to publish some of Bradman’s letters scathingly describing other players and was beaten back legally. It was even well known that Bradman’s takeover of the disgraced Harry Hodgetts’ brokerage, while not considered illegal, at least ‘smelt bad’, yet this wasn’t something spoken about for fear of his embarrassment. No-one could ever challenged Bradman’s on-field supremacy, and seemingly this further extended to off the field.
It did not taken long for the errors and clashes Bradman had, kept under wraps during his lifetime, to become more well known post his passing. Light was even shone on his strained relationship with his son. Nothing in any of these ‘headlines’ that should be considered particularly abnormal, however because of Bradman’s protected status during his lifetime they are viewed with shock and horror now when revealed. Primarily the difficulties he had with individuals such as Bill O’Reilly and Jack Fingleton are of greatest interest, occurring within the dressing room. But it is small minded to think that in teams of 11 individuals there won’t be personality clashes.
Ironically Bradman posthumously has ‘fallen’ back to being just admired as the great batsman. Because we tried to make him more than a human, the more we found out, the more we realise just how human he was. Such a lesson should be easily learned, with Bradman so far in advance of others, not to idolise sporting performers beyond prowess on the field. All this in mind my son’s generation are free to see Bradman more accurately in history. Not as superhuman, nor a major figure of influence, just as the greatest batsman in the history of cricket by a long way, and one who brought much pleasure to many. A great legacy by itself.