- Why it's not Mt Sikdar
June 1, 2013
Everest was named after a surveyor who had little to do with calculating its height while Indian mathematician Radhanath Sikdar, who actually solved…
- Frightful fun in Bath
June 1, 2013
Bath has strange things that go bump in the night.
- The other Dali, also surreal
May 18, 2013
This quaint Yunnan town has managed to retain its olde worlde charm. You are unlikely to find any flaw in its design aesthetics.
- In This Section
- Entire Website
From the Times Of India
- MOST POPULAR
Boy from Bowral
Last week would've been Don Bradman's 104th birthday. TOI-Crest drives to the boyhood home of one of the world's best batsmen.
Leaning on a myrtle outside 20, Glebe Street, I missed a heartbeat. I was standing outside the house of one of my greatest sporting heroes. No, he was not there. But the air was laden with his memories - the oval green across the street where he hit a red twine ball;he pushed the dowels into the wooden planks as his father hunched over to build this house;on a glum day, he'd clank the piano keys;and on sunny days, he watered the roses. A steel nameplate reads: '20, Glebe Street. Bradman lived in this house from 1924 to 1928'.
I am in Bowral, a two-hour drive from Sydney, on a Cricket Legends Tour to learn about the man who lent this sleepy town its cherished fame - Sir Donald Bradman.
20, Glebe Street, however, was not the first home for the boy from Bowral. One fateful day in 1911, George and Emily Bradman sold their farm in Yeo Yeo, Cootamundra, and, looking for better prospects, decided to settle in 52, Shepherd Street, Bowral.
George came with his carpentry tools and in Emily's arms was a little boy called Donald Bradman. Bowral then was a quiet street and for the monied and the mighty, an exclusive getaway. From the house in Shepherd Street, Bradman walked to Bowral Public School.
It was in 52, Shepherd Street that Bradman practiced the tank tap - he'd tap a golf ball with a cricket stump against a curved course of bricks supporting the family's water tank. The tank taps sure worked magic - at 12, in the second game of school cricket against Mittagong Public School, he took 8 wickets and scored 115 not out.
Years later, in the oval green (now called The Bradman Oval), he hit 234 against the Wingello team that included the fiery Bill O'Reilly. Reilly later described his encounter with Bradman, "He approached the wicket with what seemed like a diffident gait of a stop-gap performer..."
I walked past The Bradman Oval and stepped into the International Cricket Hall of Fame, a modern, high-tech museum with interactive touch screens where Shannon O'Connor, Tourism Development Manager, was waiting with mounds of information about cricket's greatest ever.
Originally the Bradman Museum, the Hall aims to not only preserve cricketing history and artefacts but also to expand Bradman's wish that "cricket should continue to flourish and spread its wings. The world can only be richer for it. "
But in the Hall, I was not thinking cricket, I was thinking Bradman. Only Bradman. Nothing else. And then I saw him. Framed in black and white, sepia and colour. Looking dapper in a fedora and trench;standing by a shrub wearing suspenders;in a huddle with his cricketing mates;lazily holding a tennis racquet;posing outside a brick house, not in white flannel, but a dark pin-striped suit. But it was Photograph number 67 that had me intrigued. On a bench sat a child in a frock with lace trimming, the unruly hair held back with a clip and beginnings of a smile. "Bradman's sister?" I threw a question at O'Connor. "No, this is Bradman at 18 months, " he answered knowingly. Bradman in a frock? I grinned.
There was so much of Bradman on the walls. I noticed 'Don' signed in black ink on a typed letter on which the ink has faded. It is dated 20. 8. 63 and begins with, 'Dear Gubby, Your letter of 1st August has only just reached me...' Behind the glass pane, lay another letter, with Don in slanted hand. Dated 18. 4. 86, this letter is addressed to Bob: 'Your (sic) should have no qualms about asking me to sign a bat at leisure for some worthwhile cause. I do not mind it all, especially when I think of people who have no regard for my personal feelings or time such as the fellow who called at my front door at 9. 30 pm on X'mas Eve (after I had gone to bed) seeking a signature on a bat for his son for a X'mas present...'
Locked in another cupboard was an old newspaper advertisement of Don Bradman Special Cricket Boot. Another clipping was by B Warsop & Sons, Cricket Bat Manufacturers, Sole Makers and Patentees of Conqueror Spring Handle bat as 'used by principal players of England and Colonies...'
I walked back to the house where he lived and wondered whether he'd be standing behind the white curtain. I hit a twine ball in The Bradman Oval and imagined him standing there laughing at my terrible attempt at playing cricket.
But Bradman is no more. He died in 2001 and his ashes lie scattered near his house on 20, Glebe Street. But, in Bowral, Sir Donald Bradman was everywhere.
AT A GLANCE
GETTING THERE |
Bowral is about an hour's drive from Sydney. The Museum is a 20-minute walk from the railway station
Adults: AUD 20 Children (5-15 years): AUD 10
Register for Full Access to the Crest Edition
Don't have a Facebook Account? Sign up for Times Crest here.
Subscribe to The Times of India Crest Edition and stay connected with our unequalled network of correspondents, analysts, writers and editors to figure the changes bubbling below the surface of society.