Dean Jones - He Was Very Good

Superlatives don’t mean much these days. Die before your time and you are a “hero”. Live a long time after reasonable success and you are “one of the greats”. If your mate shouts and buys your favourite chips, he’s a legend. Too often said. Not often meant.

Dean Jones premature departure robs his wife and daughters and perhaps a few close friends. Any responsibility he had to the public has long since lapsed. It’s also a timely reminder that, as much as we might try to deny it, our time is fleeting and our existence fragile.

Jones wasn’t a legend. He wasn’t even a great. For a brief few years, he was one of the better batsmen in world cricket. He played a handful of innings of genius: 

• his 184 not out in Sydney in Jan 1987, didn’t win the Ashes but it drew back some respect against Mike Gatting’s side that made a clean sweep that summer;

• his 216 against the Windies in Adelaide at their absolute peak(Marshall, Patterson, Ambrose, Walsh) in 1989. A year later, on the same ground, he made hundreds in each innings against Akram, Waqar and Imran;

• the 145 off 136 balls in an ODI v England on the Gabba at the end of 1990, is perhaps the best of them all and the most audaciously Jones: brash, confident, inventive and in-you-face.

I hear the word Chennai called loudly as you finished the above list. His 210 is usuallly described as courageous and brave but could equally attract the epithets reckless and stupid. It’s an innings that could never happen today. Despite the romance of its achievement, it was dumb from Jones, dumber from Border and brain dead from team management. Critically dehydrated and hospitalised after driving himself to a state of dead man walking, he could have easily killed himself and who knows what damage was done in responding to Allan Border’s dare. His ego wrote a cheque his body only just managed to pay.

Anyone who plays Sheffield Shield is a good player. You have to be very good to play Test cricket ... and very lucky. Jones was no better than Jamie Siddons or Stuart Law or Darren Lehmann. They we’re also very good players but Jones had more luck, much of which he manufactured by his attitude.

His greatest legacy is the revolutionary changes he alone bought to one day cricket. Aided by Bob Simpson’s skills and experience, Jones was the best runner between wickets of his and most other eras and invented the stroll down the track to the quicker men.

Any death is sad. The younger, the sadder. The loss of notable characters like Jones reminds us of moments, often shared with mates, when our heroes were elevated on the backs of deeds that just made us feel bloody good. Bloody proud. Deano supplied a few of those moments.

He was no great but he was very bloody good.