BE AFRAID
Young Glenn McGrath had a saying: “Hit the seam or whatever’s in the way.” He said it on the TV once when his nickname was “Millard” after the brand of caravan he was living in. Such mottos (they’d be memes today) appeal to young fellows; the “toughness” of it, the idea of being bad-ass. McGrath also knew the nickname “Bruce” after the string-bean Bruce Reid, so he’d take whatever he could get.
Josh Hazlewood would appreciate the sentiment but would never have set it free. Never needed to. He hasn’t ever been overt in his proclamations and “done a McGrath” pre-series by naming a big-wicket bunny. Hazlewood doesn’t make proclamations. Proclamations aren’t a thing in Bendemeer; the little burgh outside Tamworth that Captain Thunderbolt robbed and which spawned the great big quick.
Besides, Hazlewood has always been scary. Always known it. So has everyone. There was a city-country game in Sydney; he was 15 and bowling 130 clicks, swinging it. He looked like a man among boys. Good batters were nicked off first ball and the lanky kid from the bush was pegged for big things. You didn’t have to be Doug Walters cocking a wizened eye while facing young McGrath.
Hazlewood passed all the tests. He passed the eye test, the physicality test. He passed the hyper-competitive sporto test. There was a bit about him, and the old lags declared: “He’ll do.”
Yet the transition from boy wonder to man-child to full-grown buck athlete is an interesting time for a cricketer, or any sportsman. Going from elite youth to top grade, not everyone continues to grow. Not from lack of trying, sometimes. Just that some people don’t dominate adults as they once did kids.
HAZLEWOOD PLUNDERED THROUGH EVERYBODY. DIDN’T MATTER THE COMPETITION.AT EVERY
