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No Spin: My Autobiography PDF

452 Pages·2018·9.8 MB·English
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Contents COVER ABOUT THE BOOK ABOUT THE AUTHOR TITLE PAGE DEDICATION AUTHOR’S NOTE INTRODUCTION 1 SATISFACTION 2 HEROES My Mother My Father 3 GROWIN’ UP The ’Hood School’s Out Jason 4 A HEAD FULL OF DREAMS Home and Away The Academy Learning at Last Straya 5 SOMETHING IN THE AIR TJ’s Place – March 1992 The Sri Lankan Miracle – August 1992 Boxing Day for the First Time – December 1992 6 THE RISING No-One Teaches You This Bit The Gatting Ball ‘Simmo’ and the Work Ethic 7 UNGUARDED MOMENT John Salim Malik ‘Match-fixers’ Hansie IPL 8 CHANGES Nike Just Jeans 11,660 Balls Already We’re Going to the Como, But First, We’re … Going to Get Married Simone Birth Postscript 9 ADVENTURE OF A LIFETIME (AKA THE ART OF LEG-SPIN) In the Beginning The Magic The Set-Up The Sting The Box of Tricks Revolutions The Process The Teachers Spin Up! The Passion History Lesson The Rough People, Places And Finally … 10 I’M STILL STANDING Surgery Revolution Sell the Ferrari, Son Yellow Dropped Magilla World Cup 1999 When September Came 11 MIXED EMOTIONS A Famous Five Two More Men at the Turn of the Century The Other Side of the Coin Gilly Surgery Again Kolkata 2001 One More Thing 12 NO SURRENDER King of Pain The Diuretic Remission Footnote 13 FIELDS OF BLUE AND GOLD Hampshire … or Lancashire? Judge and Jack Captaincy KP Hampshire vs Nottinghamshire 2005 Reflections Thanks … The Future, Briefly 14 ASHES TO ASHES If You Fail to Prepare, You Prepare to Fail London, Birmingham, Manchester Coaches Trent Bridge The Oval Fifteen Months, That’s All It Took Boot Camp Amazing Adelaide 15 START ME UP The Story of the Rajasthan Royals in the First Indian Premier League It Couldn’t Have Gone Much Worse It Couldn’t Have Gone Much Better The Three-Second Chill The Royals Win the Cup! Manoj Badale How the Stars Didn’t Win the Cup 16 PHOTOGRAPH Elizabeth Regrets? Come to Think of It, I Have Had a Few Rewind, Early May 2006 The Snape Sessions 17 THE GREAT GIGS AT NINE, SKY AND STAR (MEANTIME … GET ME OUTTA HERE!) Nine The Sky and Star I’m a Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here 18 REASONS TO BELIEVE The Shane Warne Foundation Lloyd Williams Shane Warne: the Musical Melbourne Days Saints So Near, Saints So Far 23 The King of Moomba 19 NEW YORK, NEW YORK Cirencester CC, 9 June 2013 London Calling Flower of Scotland It’s Only Rock and Roll (But I Like It) 20 IMAGINE 21 IN THE YEAR 2018 3 June, St John’s Wood, London 17/18 March, Augusta National 24 March, Cape Town 13 May, Jaipur 17 May, Melbourne 15 July, Las Vegas 22 SIMPLY THE BEST Mac and Fries, Tiger and Nugget C’mon, Aussie, C’mon The Boys of Summer EPILOGUE A BEAUTIFUL NOISE Brooke, Jackson, Summer PICTURE SECTION STATISTICS INDEX ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS COPYRIGHT About the Book ‘My story, without the spin.’ From the start of his glittering career in 1992, to his official retirement from all formats of the game in 2013, Shane Warne has long desired to tell his incredible story without compromise. No Spin is that very story. It will offer a compelling intimate voice, true insight and a pitch-side seat to one of cricket’s finest eras, making this one of the ultimate must-have sports autobiographies. Shane is not only one of the greatest living cricket legends: he is as close as the game has had since Botham to a maverick genius on the field and a true rebel spirit off it, who always gives audiences what they want. Despite being the talismanic thorn in England’s side for nearly two decades of regular Ashes defeats, he was also much loved in the UK where he played cricket for Hampshire. He’s also a much-admired figure in India and South Africa. Alongside his mesmerising genius as a bowler, Shane has often been a controversial figure, and in this book he’s talk with brutal honesty about some of the most challenging times in his life as a player. Honest, thoughtful, fearless and loved by millions, Shane is always his own man and this book is a testament to his brilliant career. About the Author Shane Warne, born 13 September 1969, is widely regarded as one of the finest bowlers in the history of cricket. Warne played his first Test match in 1992, and took over 1000 international wickets (in Tests and One-Day Internationals). A useful lower-order batsman, Warne also scored over 3000 Test runs. He also played Australian domestic cricket for his home state of Victoria, and English domestic cricket for Hampshire. He was captain of Hampshire for three seasons, from 2005 to 2007. He also captained the Rajasthan Royals to victory in the IPL in 2008. He officially retired from all formats in 2013 and currently commentates for Sky Sports. For Mum and Dad And for Brooke, Jackson and Summer Author’s Note I MET SHANE in 1993 outside my girlfriend’s house in London, having driven at the speed of light from a county game in Nottingham, nerves on edge, to ask her to marry me. I parked in the road, took a deep breath, and climbed out of the car, only to see the blond leg-spinner who had bowled the Gatting ball a couple of weeks earlier emerge from her front door. Okay, I thought, this boy is good! Charm was written all over him. He explained that a mate of his knew her sister and that the four of them had whacked back a bottle or two of rosé in the next-door pub, before attacking another on the tiny back patio of the girls’ terraced cottage. He said he was sorry to rush but he had a commitment for which he was already late. No worries, I said, and that was that. The next time I saw him was on telly, knocking over England again. I didn’t propose that night, the adrenalin had disappeared into the ether. I was not to know that he had only recently popped the question himself, on a boat in the Lake District somewhere, a question that received an enthusiastic response. Women have been both his fun and his folly. Cricket, of course, has been his fulfilment. He is, in the truest sense, a great cricketer. He has touched the game in all its genres and formats, and in myriad ways. Mainly, he has ridden roughshod over any opponent who has stood in his way. Only in Test matches in India has the local talent held sway, though there were mitigating circumstances. Richie Benaud called him not just the greatest leg-spinner of all time but the greatest bowler he had seen, full stop. Richie’s judgement will do for me. He is a challenging and rewarding personality, and about as strong a character as the sport has seen. He is a loyal friend and, thankfully, after more than a year on the project of this book, I find him just as engaging as I ever did. The pace of his life can be overwhelming, for the dull moments are few and far between; with Warney, it’s all or nothing. The book is written mainly in his vocabulary, as a stream of consciousness. I could see no other way, since it is Shane’s story not mine. After 35 hours of recorded conversation there were expletives to delete and, necessarily I think, a few worth keeping. Given there have been at least 12 books written about him by other people, it has been fun hearing his own version of a life less than ordinary. The songs at the heading of most chapters reflect his great love of contemporary music, as well as his general sense of a good time. The choices come mostly from favourites in his own collection and they attempt, at least in some way, to reflect the chapter of his life to come. The saying goes that singing makes you happy; well, he sings a great deal. Whatever conclusions you may make, most of all I hope that you hear his voice, for it continues to echo with the game he so loves. Mark Nicholas, August 2018 Introduction I STARTED OUT in the Melbourne suburbs and I remain happily there to this day. Though London has called for a lot of the time over the past few years, Brighton, just a few miles out of Melbourne’s city centre, is my patch. I’ve traded houses there like I don’t know what home is, but I do; I know what’s in my heart. I’ve only ever had two serious relationships. Yep, two: the first with my wife of 10 years, Simone, and the second – much more recently – with my ex-fiancée, Elizabeth Hurley. Believe it or not, I’d take the quiet life over the red carpet any day. The trouble is I haven’t often portrayed myself as anything but a good-time boy, hunting down something different every week of the year. Kerry Packer once told me, ‘Sell the blue Ferrari, son, and lie low for a while,’ so I did as I was told, and bought a silver one. Lying low hasn’t been my thing. I have lived in the moment and ignored the consequences. This has served me both well and painfully, depending on which moment. I’ve tried to live up to the legend, or the myth in my view, which has been a mistake because I’ve let life off the field become as public as life on it. In my defence, I’ve never pretended to be someone or something I’m not. I’m a little older now and often wish I was wiser. I’m sick of taking up space in tabloid newspapers and plan to work on that with a bit more conviction than previously in my life. Yes, I’ve been silly at times but, equally, I like to think I’ve done justice to my talent, openly shared it with the world and provided plenty of entertainment. Regrets? A few but not as many as you might think. I can’t change anything so what’s the point of regret? I’ve tried to do the best by Brooke, Jackson and Summer, my beautiful kids, but the space in those tabloid papers has at times embarrassed and hurt them. Right there is a regret. Now that’s off my chest, we can get down to business. Other than ‘Would you sign this, please?’ and ‘Can I have a selfie?’, the question I’m asked most is ‘How did you do it?’ By that I think people are referring to the Gatting ball, the World Cup semi-final, Amazing Adelaide, the MCG 700th, the IPL and so on. I might be wrong, of course, but probably not, so as my life unfolds over the coming pages, I hope to answer the question. Yes, the search for fame, love, admiration and lifestyle are in the make-up somewhere. Ultimately, though, it’s about the leg-break, and the strategy, instinct and burning desire to win that came with it. The stories on the pages that follow are the result of many recorded conversations with a longtime friend, Mark Nicholas. Mark’s job has been to make sense of it all – his magic trick, if you like – and he’s pulled more than a few rabbits out of the hat. Mine is more mysterious and has been worth a bunch of wickets and a few trophies along the way. Best of all, it has been a whole lot of fun. You gotta remember football was my thing, not cricket … 1 Satisfaction I ANNOUNCED MY retirement from international cricket soon after midday on 21 December 2006, almost exactly 15 years after first appearing for Australia against India at the Sydney Cricket Ground. I probably wasn’t ready back then in January 1992, but now I knew for sure that the time was right to wave it goodbye. As Ian Chappell said to me, ‘It’s better they ask “Why are you?” than “Why don’t you?”’ I was done, physically and mentally, and had the feeling that I’d run out of arse anyway. You can’t play at that level without it. I don’t care who you are! The timing of the announcement meant that I’d play a final Boxing Day Test against England on my home ground five days later, and then finish with the New Year Test in Sydney, where it all started. Nice symmetry. The build-up to that Boxing Day Test was manic – understandably, I guess. By the time Christmas Day came I was cooked, so it was a relief to have a few hours of nothing with my family and children. I had a few chuckles to myself about how my life in the game had panned out. I mean, going into the occasion I valued above all others with 699 Test match wickets under my belt, and gunning for number 700 at the Melbourne Cricket Ground, of all places – well, it doesn’t get any better than that. I knew there’d be sadness too, partly because I still loved playing Test match cricket and partly because I was saying goodbye (or thought I was!) to the mighty ’G. I’d set the phone at full volume, and I remember how the suddenness of the 5 am alarm makes for that feeling of shock when it wakes you up from a deep sleep. There was no time for the usual snooze buttons and then the last-minute panic to get ready: I had to move right then. Urrgghh. It had been a bad night. I’d last checked the time at 3.30 am and then fallen into the kind of heavy sleep that knocks you about a bit. It took a while to get my head round where I was and what I was doing. I rolled over, stiff and sore as

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Most books are stored in the elastic cloud where traffic is expensive. For this reason, we have a limit on daily download.