Gideon Haigh has a lovely write-up (naturally) of Ian Redpath, who passed away over the weekend. I’m not sure why but he is the first Australian Test cricketer I recall ever being aware of. And what I recall is watching him bat and thinking he was impossible to get out.
In my mother’s living room in Geelong stands a glass-fronted bookcase, whose old dark wood I recollect from childhood, and had been in the family long before that. It is now in excellent condition - gleaming palely, in fact. That’s not an accident. ‘Ian Redpath did that,’ my mother unfailingly recalls. He arrived at her request one morning in his van, carefully dismantled the bookcase, scrupulously restored the wood, cleaned the glass, repaired the snibs and catches, and returned it good as new. Better actually. She knew he was a cricketer; but she swore by his antique dealer’s skills.
Ian, who died this morning aged 83, was Geelong’s Test cricketer.
Turns out even the redoubtable Redpath must take the long walk back to the pavilion. If you were a fan, Haigh’s tribute is worth a read.