CRICKET: THE LEGACY OF DEANO
The news on the evening of September 24, that Dean Mervyn Jones, who had been a prominent part of Pakistan Super League (PSL) from its inception, had passed away in Mumbai following a massive heart attack, came as a shock to everyone. The untimely demise of the dashing former Australian batsman, at the relatively young age of 59, with no past history of significant health issues, understandably sent the cricketing world into deep shock.
Born in the Melbourne suburb of Coburg, Jones was always destined to play for Australia as a top-order batsman. He had an aura about him that served his country with distinction, but his abrupt retirement after 10 years drew mixed reactions. It had taken him barely three years of trying, after making the grade at the first-class level for Victoria, to get himself picked for arguably the most daunting baptism in the Caribbean, at a time when the West Indies ruled the roost. The ever-durable Allan Border, who later captained Jones throughout the latter’s tenure with the Australia team, was then the solitary shining light in an otherwise brittle batting line-up.
The arrival of Jones, or Deano as he was to his teammates, was to transform Australia’s destiny. Bruised and humiliated by the pace barrage endlessly unleashed by West Indies during their dominance of international cricket, Border needed someone like Jones to turn the tide. The one-day format had already been revolutionised by Kerry Packer’s penchant for coloured clothing and the white ball, with cricket at night gradually attracting a new audience in large numbers.
Jones would later be nicknamed ‘Prof Deano’ because of his shrewdness with words and strategy in his role as broadcaster and coach after he had quit playing in the mid-1990s. But long before that he had already been recognised as the torchbearer of changing the face of the 50-over game. Few had the audacity to take the fast bowlers head on in those days. But Jones dared to play the fearsome pacers by often charging down the pitch — a sight which became more and more noticeable as time flew by.
Dean Jones, known fondly in the cricketing fraternity as Deano or Professor Deano, passed away in Mumbai, India on September 24. His human legacy was as strong as his cricketing one
Classified as rank outsiders for the maiden World Cup staged outside England, Australia’s winning the trophy in the autumn of 1987 was as surprising as India stunning the West Indies in the final of the global limited-overs competition just over four years earlier, in June 1983. Jones was one of the masterminds of that triumph, who set the tone for the future.
The hallmark of Jones’s game was his electrifying running between the wickets and equally sensational fielding in the deep. He and Steve Waugh forged a partnership of great substance because, together, they were responsible for driving the opposition crazy by stealing cheeky runs when none really existed. Half a run was converted into one, one into twos and so forth, whenever these two batted in tandem.
Jones was no ordinary mortal. His exploits in ODI cricket changed the perception of the 50-over format and would have arguably been replicated in the Twenty20 razzmatazz too, had he been around as a player in the new millennium. Such was his class. His test of endurance during only the second tied Test match in history, in the searing 42 Celsius cauldron of Chepauk Stadium at Madras (Chennai) in 1986, was an act of great courage and tremendous stamina. Batting for the best part of two days, Jones had collapsed on the pitch because the oppressive conditions on the field of play had left him completely dehydrated. He had occupied the crease for more than 500 minutes for a gallant 210 and needed to recover from the ordeal in hospital, on a saline drip.
But to the surprise of many, Jones rated his debut innings of 48 against the mighty West Indies, on a testing Queen’s Park Oval track at Port of Spain, and an undefeated 90-ball 100 on another tricky surface at Auckland’s Eden Park in 1990, against a New Zealand spearheaded by the legendary Sir Richard Hadlee, as his better innings.
Jones’s exit from the scene at the top level was as impetuous as his batting. Jones walked out of the team after a career which had fetched him 52 Test and 164 One-day International (ODI) caps and nearly 10,000 runs, including two Test double hundreds, for Australia. Many were astounded back then at how it all happened. Ditched for the final fixture of an eight-match marathon — a game Australia won to draw the series at 4-4 — against South Africa on the 1994 tour, Jones was livid when Mark Taylor and David Boon were preferred over him. “Are you trying to tell me that you’re a better player than me?” he had famously retorted. “Really? Well, that’s it, I’m done.” And he retired straight away.
Jones also flirted with controversies here and there. His infamous description of the bearded South African Hashim Amla taking a catch as “the terrorist gets another wicket” was something he tried hard to live down and expressed great remorse for. The comment, made during a Test in Sri Lanka in 2006, cost him a contract with TenSports. Earlier in 1993, during his playing career, he had once objected to Curtly Ambrose bowling with a wristband and forced him to take it off. The sledging attempt, painted then as allegedly motivated by racial prejudice, backfired. Riled by the request, Ambrose went on to grab five wickets to help West Indies triumph over Australia. The tag of racism never stuck to Jones, however — he continued to have strong friendships across the world.
Coaching became an integral part of Jones’s life after his playing career ended. Current head coach Justin Langer revealed he was on the verge of engaging him as a mentor to improve Australia’s T20 fortunes. He was in demand in several of the franchise-based T20 leagues, but his love for Pakistan remained undiminished and, since 2009, he had voiced his opinion pretty strongly — during his commentary stints wherever he was — for the revival of international cricket in the country.
During his four-year spell with the two-time PSL winners Islamabad United, Jones cut a different figure than head coaches of the other PSL teams, because he was usually spotted in the dugout clad in a smart two-piece suit. He maintained this ritual for the currently-aborted fifth edition, after switching over to Karachi Kings as Mickey Arthur’s successor. Tragically for the Kings, they’ll surely miss his presence and his infamous notebook when the playoffs take place in Lahore next month.
Jones adopted a diplomatic approach with his choice of words when he was confronted with queries asking him to compare the different T20 leagues. Asked to compare the PSL with the cash-rich Indian Premier League (IPL), he said earlier this year that, “Hands down IPL is the best league among the two. But having said that, PSL has the best bowling collectively.” Asked to compare the two Subcontinental leagues with the T20 league back home in Australia, he had cheekily said the Big Bash was in a “different hemisphere” than the other leagues.
Although his playing career at the top finished prematurely at 33, Jones remained in the limelight for another 26 years, and there was a reason for it. Those who worked with him could never tell you enough about the warmth and passion he exuded. There was no doubt he genuinely connected on a human level with them. In March 2019, he was trying to raise funds for Pakistan cricketer Asif Ali’s cancer-stricken infant daughter, who sadly died later. At a presser, he broke down while talking about the little girl’s condition.
Jones’s cricketing legacy is perhaps only outshone by his qualities as a genuinely warm and sincere human being. Rest in peace Prof Deano.
The writer is a member of staff
Published in Dawn, EOS, October 4th, 2020