Michael McCormack (Riverina, National Party, Parliamentary Secretary to the Minister for Finance) Share this | Hansard source

The cream, the bone, the off-white, the ivory or the beige: they are the familiar words of summer. They are the familiar words of every cricket season, be it summer or be it an Ashes series in England, in the middle of an Australian winter, and we all know that they belong and relate to and are very much a part of Richie Benaud. Vale, Richie Benaud. We already miss him.

I almost cannot believe that Richie's international cricketing career ended in 1964. That is the year I was born, and people tell me that that was a long time ago! But the fact that he has been so much a part of our cricketing folklore post his cricketing career is truly remarkable. He was, as the member for Flynn just indicated, the voice of our summer, the voice of our cricket. I claim him as Riverina boy. Jugiong is not actually in the Riverina electorate, but Jugiong considers itself part of the wider Riverina. He was not born in Jugiong; he was actually born in Penrith, in Sydney. But he forged an indelible link with the Riverina by being educated at the local public school there, where his father, Louis, was the principal. Lou actually took all 20 wickets in a Sydney grade cricket match against St Marys, playing for Cumberland, which is truly remarkable. So Richie obviously had that cricketing ability coursing through his young veins.

Certainly, Richie made his first-grade debut at a very young age. The talent scouts spotted him, and pretty soon he was part of the New South Wales team and, not long after that, a member of our test team—and what a great test career he forged. What a marvellous, as he would say, career he forged: 63 tests and 2,201 runs. He took 248 wickets with his very crafty, thoughtful leggies. He was a tremendous cricketer for us.

But most people probably remember Richie for being behind the microphone. Most people remember him for his analysis of the game, for his careful summary of how matches were panning out. When there were incidents in international cricket, you could always rely on Richie to come up with a very diplomatic and thoughtful commentary on a particular incident that put it into perspective. He was not one for getting too excited. But, I tell you what, when he did get excited, you knew it was for something very, very special. We all remember Richie's commentary of Shane Warne's first-ever delivery in England, when he removed Mike Gatting with 'that ball' around the English captain's legs, bowling him out.

Richie's passing at the age of 84, on 10 April 2015, was mourned not just throughout our nation but indeed throughout the world. He died in his sleep and he died of skin cancer. Back in the day, Richie's shirt was usually unbuttoned all the way down to his waist, with the sleeves rolled up. He was part of that great era of the bronzed Aussie, when everybody went out and got a suntan, when 'Slip! Slop! Slap!' was probably not a part of our summers. As we mourn Richie's death, we should also—as Richie would want us to—make sure we cover up in summer when we are standing in the slips or out at the beach, because the Australian sun is deadly. Richie, like so many others, was a victim of those all-too-often summer afternoons spent in the hot, blazing Australian sun, doing what he did best and loving it at the time but, unfortunately, treating his skin to those deadly rays.

His passing was certainly mourned in Wagga Wagga, which is very much a cricketing city. It is home to Geoff Lawson, the former test fast bowler. It is home to Mark Taylor, the former Australian cricket captain, although he probably came more from Leeton than from Wagga, but we will claim him because he went to high school there. And it is home to Michael Slater, the very aggressive former test opening batsman. We know that those three have also got behind the mike in recent years: Taylor and Slater with Channel Nine, having spent many a summer in the commentary booth with Richie; and Geoff Lawson, a very, very good commentator with the ABC.

As I say, Richie's death was mourned in Wagga Wagga. There was an unusual gathering of young cricketers, and some not so young, for a photo for TheDaily Advertiser newspaper, to reflect on the role that Richie had played not just in cricketing circles but in their lives. We had Samuel Smith, 12 years old, of South Wagga; Sam Perry of Wagga RSL; Will Morley of Kooringal Colts; Martin Loy, a good mate of mine from St Michael's; Sean Gaynor, a young fellow from Lake Albert; and Josh Thompson, a very good, bright young cricketer from Wagga City, who came together for a shot to talk about their memories of Richie. Of course, most of them were far too young to remember Richie rolling his arm over for Australia, but they remembered him for what he did in the commentary box. Geoff Lawson also made some comments to the paper. Martin Loy said:

'You have Bradman'—

another Riverina boy from Cootamundra—

Mr O'Dowd interjecting—

Well, we have many, Member for Flynn! I do not have time to relay all the sportsmen that we have produced in the Riverina. Marty Loy said:

'You have Bradman, Waugh and you have Richie Benaud …'

As the paper said:

As evening descended on Wagga, all six of the city's cricket clubs paid tribute to the icon of Australian sport.

I think Geoff Lawson summed it up very well when he described him—because he knew him:

'He was very friendly, very affable and loved to talk to anyone about cricket—it didn't matter who you were," he said. 'He was the kind of person that would always go out of his way to shake your hand.'

One of my favourite photos is with my sons Alexander, who is now 20, and Nicholas, who is 17. They are cricketers. They are much better than their father, thank goodness! I still play, mind you. I still open the batting at the age of 50. We got a photo taken with Richie when we played at the Sydney Cricket Ground. Yes, I played at the Sydney Cricket Ground—probably the worst cricketer to ever grace that famous sporting arena. But we played there as part of a promotional annual event with the Primary Club, that great charity which does so many good deeds for people around the nation, of which Richie was—although you would call it a patron in most organisations—the Primary Club's twelfth man. We had our photo taken. It was a great day, I love that particular photo, and I love the way that Richie was the voice of our summer. We will miss him dearly.

I was so disappointed that, when the Prime Minister stood to give his eulogy, to move the condolence motion for Richie Benaud in question time the other day, it was 2.25 pm. What a shame it was, because it would have been so appropriate that he did not get up just three minutes earlier, at '2.22'! We will always remember that about Richie. We will always remember his coats. They say imitation is the highest form of flattery, and I think copying him, wearing wigs and off-beige, brown or ivory coats will continue as long as we play cricket in this great nation. Farewell, Richie Benaud: 'Marvellous innings, that.'

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