Tristan Lavalette reports following the retirement of great Aussie paceman Mitchell Johnson
During Mitchell Johnson’s final day of international cricket, it seemed appropriate that Perth’s reliable weather went awry. Rarely had Test matches ever been played in anything but scorching sunshine at the WACA. However, on the second Test’s final day there was even an unthinkable 90-minute rain delay.
Likewise, Johnson, is arguably the most mercurial player of his generation. He claimed New Zealand’s openers in his last spell of fast bowling at Test level to finish impressively with 2-20 off six overs. The WACA pitch started to play tricks in the final session and Johnson took full advantage. He extracted significant bounce to ensure he evoked some of the most indelible images of his career. Fleetingly, Johnson’s venom was centre stage in an international match.
He finished his career with 313 wickets from 73 Tests at an average of 28. Only Shane Warne (708), Glenn McGrath (563) and Dennis Lillee (355) have taken more Test wickets for Australia.
Despite being amid exalted company, Johnson’s standing isn’t as concrete as those undeniable all-timers. He was great occasionally, yet he was absolutely woeful at other times. The gulf between his bowling, even from ball to ball, was jarring.
Johnson was dropped numerous times and endured a roller-coaster ride of a career that often looked like it would veer fatally off course.
As a teenager his precociousness was whispered for a long time, and enshrined once Lillee hailed him as “a once in a lifetime prospect”. But Johnson endured a rocky start to his first class career, where he spiralled so badly that he seemed to have better prospects driving the plumbing van he turned to when his Queensland contract was not renewed.
Eventually, Johnson’s obvious talents materialised and he made his way into the Australian team as a saviour in Australia’s uncertain post Warne/McGrath era.
Johnson became Australia’s spearhead after Brett Lee’s Test retirement in 2008 and quickly stamped himself with a stunning performance in South Africa, where he not only terrorised the South African batsmen but also eviscerated their bowlers with bat in hand. He was a powerful hitter, who watched the ball intently and had a knack of striking it cleanly even though his feet were glued to the crease.
Johnson scored a Test century and a 96 during Australia’s successful series victory in South Africa in 2009 to start fuelling belief that he could become a legitimate all-rounder. Johnson was fast becoming the most important cricketer in the world because of his eclectic and electric skillset. Duly, he won the ICC Cricketer of the Year Award in 2009.
But Johnson suffered a bizarre loss of form during Australia’s unsuccessful tour of England shortly after his dizzying heights. He transformed from a world- beater to a beaten man in the matter of months. Embarrassingly, Johnson became a well-worn punch bag for the Barmy Army. His confidence was shot and he seemingly struggled to cope with the invective from over the fence.
After the Ashes debacle, the widespread belief was that Johnson was a brooding and sensitive type unable to cope mentally with the cauldron of international cricket. The pressure and weight of expectation seemed too great for him.
That unwanted label gnawed at Johnson for years. His unplayable deeds, and ability to turn matches seemingly out of nowhere, would still rear but only occasionally. He only clung onto his spot because Australia had a lack of pace options.
But once talented youngsters such as James Pattinson, Mitchell Starc and Pat Cummins started to emerge in 2011, Johnson’s career was at the crossroads. Injuries and then being part of the ‘homework’ saga that engulfed Australia’s atrocious tour of India in early 2013 seemed the death knell.
It seemed his destiny was finishing his playing days on the t20 merry-go-round, likely to be remembered as a player who underwhelmed; a maligned and somewhat tragic figure.
Then seemingly out of nowhere, Johnson had a renaissance which peaked during an incredible Ashes in 2013-14 where he claimed 37 wickets to demolish England’s spirit. It was the ultimate revenge, and a surprising twist on a career that was on life support.
Johnson took 59 wickets over eight Tests in the ultimate purple patch. He was also a key plank in Australia’s ODI World Cup-winning team earlier this year, to further underline his successful second coming.
In the Press conference after his final Test, Johnson spoke with composure and looked very much like a man at ease with his decision. That contented feeling exists only because of his successful final chapter.
Johnson said his late career comeback was cathartic. “The Ashes 2013-14 is what I’m most proud of, particularly Adelaide (taking 7-40 in England’s first innings),” he said. “I would have had regrets in my career (but for the renaissance). I felt like I hadn’t given it my best. I enjoyed the challenge of testing myself. I became more confident and happy with my action.”
Johnson said he no longer had the desire to play international cricket.
“I was down on pace in the first innings, but that was mental not physical,” he said. “I just had enough. I didn’t want to continue. I lost the hunger. It was not fair on the team. I had always given 100 per cent.”
Johnson revealed he had been contemplating retirement for about a year. Some of the purity of the game was forever eroded for him when his great mate Phil Hughes tragically died.
Johnson contemplated retiring after Australia’s successful ODI World Cup victory in March, which loomed as the fairytale goodbye. But Johnson pushed on believing he needed to mentor Australia’s young bowling crop, notably his protégé Mitchell Starc.
Johnson was the ultimate enigma; you never knew what to expect when he was bowling. But his lethal concoction conjured some of cricket’s most visceral images. He brought echoes of the West Indies in all their fast bowling pomp of the 1970s and 80s.
When Johnson was in one of his inimitable moods, where body and mind seamlessly were in sync, he was unplayable like few bowlers have ever been.
He genuinely struck fear into the opposition. It was compelling viewing and cricket at its rawest.
Mitchell Johnson was one of a kind, for better or worse. He’ll be missed.
This piece originally featured in The Cricket Paper on Friday November 20, 2015
