Anthony William Greig, at 6ft 6 in, was heads and shoulders above all his teammates, always. It may be in the right or the wrong sense. Right for being a gifted all-round cricketer, always up for a challenge. Wrong, not being judgemental, for being the leader of the English rebel side in Packer's World Series. It may have plummeted his stocks for being on the rebel side, but this South African-born English cricketer was the one who marked the real beginning of professional cricket. So what was wrong in that. Anyway.
But for the generation who didn't see Tony's cricketing prowess remember him best best and most for the ebullient voice of modern commentary. The innovator of the term 'like a tracer bullet', the first to insert car key in the big cracks of the pitch, trying to check the hardness of the surface, the first commercial captain of cricket and first to build a commentary partnership. His commentary partnership with Bill Lawry is a stuff of legends.
His significance to the lives of my generation was kind of unsaid, unacknowledged. He was the voice that infused life into Sachin's 'Sharjah Storm'. While the entire world was awestruck the way Sachin was manhandling Steve Waugh & Co then, Tony was one of the key ingredients for all the television viewers who enjoyed the excitement of Sachin's once in a lifetime innings. Without Tony in the box, it wouldn't have been the same fun for sure.
The 3900 odd runs and 170 wickets in international cricket were not of any concern at least to my generation. It surely did make for a good record, but most of us will remember him as an ecstatic, emphatic, assured and unambiguous but not rambunctious (like you know who) commentator. Very few commentators have this innate ability to get their viewers mantramugdh, bring them the real, raw, uncut excitement of cricket. Tony was one of those rare species, trailblazer kinds.
Many commentators tried to ape his style, but in vain. Not that they would agree that they were trying to do that, but then it wouldn't be any shame. The Indian Premier League (IPL) did pick up a few former internationals, to bring in the Tony Greigesque feel. But all these 'experts' (PR reps I would say) could manage is yell their guts out to sound exciting. They were not even half as audible or credible as Tony was. Here's a video tutorials for all of them. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AltJywqPXFs
Off late, he rubbed the Indian cricket fan, the establishment the wrong way. And to all of us he was the one on the other side of the fence. But then once he would start commentating, little would the Indians care. Whatever they had to tell him, they would blurt it out on his Twitter handle and enjoy his commentary later.
He passed away earlier this morning in Sydney while battling lung cancer, but trust me, he will remain the voice who brought cricket to life, and not to forget the voice who brought money too. Not many of them would acknowledge it, but this generation of cricketer owe gratitude to Tony for putting a value on cricketer for his art or call it skills. RIP Tony. Whadddyaaa Playaaa!!!
But for the generation who didn't see Tony's cricketing prowess remember him best best and most for the ebullient voice of modern commentary. The innovator of the term 'like a tracer bullet', the first to insert car key in the big cracks of the pitch, trying to check the hardness of the surface, the first commercial captain of cricket and first to build a commentary partnership. His commentary partnership with Bill Lawry is a stuff of legends.
His significance to the lives of my generation was kind of unsaid, unacknowledged. He was the voice that infused life into Sachin's 'Sharjah Storm'. While the entire world was awestruck the way Sachin was manhandling Steve Waugh & Co then, Tony was one of the key ingredients for all the television viewers who enjoyed the excitement of Sachin's once in a lifetime innings. Without Tony in the box, it wouldn't have been the same fun for sure.
The 3900 odd runs and 170 wickets in international cricket were not of any concern at least to my generation. It surely did make for a good record, but most of us will remember him as an ecstatic, emphatic, assured and unambiguous but not rambunctious (like you know who) commentator. Very few commentators have this innate ability to get their viewers mantramugdh, bring them the real, raw, uncut excitement of cricket. Tony was one of those rare species, trailblazer kinds.
Many commentators tried to ape his style, but in vain. Not that they would agree that they were trying to do that, but then it wouldn't be any shame. The Indian Premier League (IPL) did pick up a few former internationals, to bring in the Tony Greigesque feel. But all these 'experts' (PR reps I would say) could manage is yell their guts out to sound exciting. They were not even half as audible or credible as Tony was. Here's a video tutorials for all of them. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AltJywqPXFs
Off late, he rubbed the Indian cricket fan, the establishment the wrong way. And to all of us he was the one on the other side of the fence. But then once he would start commentating, little would the Indians care. Whatever they had to tell him, they would blurt it out on his Twitter handle and enjoy his commentary later.
He passed away earlier this morning in Sydney while battling lung cancer, but trust me, he will remain the voice who brought cricket to life, and not to forget the voice who brought money too. Not many of them would acknowledge it, but this generation of cricketer owe gratitude to Tony for putting a value on cricketer for his art or call it skills. RIP Tony. Whadddyaaa Playaaa!!!
