Changing of the guard

There is a difference between leaving an indelible mark on sport and changing it. One does not necessarily mean the other; but for Adam Gilchrist, who announced his retirement from international cricket the day after taking the record for most dismissals by a wicket-keeper in Tests, they were feats very much united. Pre-Gilchrist, the definition of the ideal wicket-keeper was a top-notch gloveman who could be niggly, aggressive and unconventional with the bat. Take five of the most celebrated post-war examples: Godfrey Evans, Alan Knott, Rodney Marsh, Jeffrey Dujon and Ian Healy. Their averages range from 20.49 (Evans) to 32.75 (Knott); together, they managed 19 Test centuries in 482 Tests. Gilchrist, yet to bat in his farewell game and with a flat Adelaide pitch to look forward to, boasts an average of 47.89, with 17 centuries and a record 414 dismissals from 96 Tests. And those are figures which very much reflect a latter-day slump. As late as his 47th Test match, his average touched 60; 15 of his centuries had been recorded nearly 30 games ago, before he had played 100 Test innings. And that is not to mention one-day cricket.

When the chance arrived, success came quickly for Gilchrist; but the path to international cricket was far from the cakewalk his talent and record might suggest. He could not get a game for his home state NSW, so travelled to the other side of Australia and found a home at Perth, a journey further than London to Cairo. He then suffered the ire of his own fans for replacing the incumbent, something that he was to experience again when he graduated to the Australian Test team. Tim Zoehrer was the darling at the WACA, while he was far from flavour of the month making his Test debut on Ian Healy's patch at Brisbane. He was soon to earn their adulation. His first Test innings almost brought a maiden century, with 81 off not many more deliveries; the next game, he both chalked up his first ton and won a game for Australia, joining with Justin Langer to chase a total of 369 which had seemed impossible from 126-5. That typified Gilchrist; he was not the first wicket-keeper to act as frequent fireman, but it was the manner of his play which set him apart. He dealt not in fighting fifties, rather lacerating centuries; he could turn difficult situations into winning ones within two sessions and often did. Australia might look the deadest of dead dogs, but were never out of it while Gilchrist was yet to have his say.

All the Australian teams Gilchrist played in over a nine-year Test career struck fear into their opposition. With the bat, you could be battered from the off by Slater or Hayden; ground down by Ponting, Steve Waugh or Hussey; regally dismissed by Mark Waugh or Martyn. But not even those stellar names and reputations carried the same aura as Gilchrist. Often he seemed impossible to bowl to, driving and cutting powerfully on the off side; scooping and flicking on the leg. Spinners he swept or charged to bully straight down the ground. It was uninhibited, thrilling and utterly demoralising for bowlers and captains. Well-laid plans and carefully-set fields were frequently rendered meaningless; no better than watching and hoping, the last resort which Gilchrist delighted in bringing about quickly. For an example of his inventiveness, look no further than the first Test of the 2001 Ashes at Edgbaston. Gilchrist, a boundary away from 150, was helping his team reduce England's latest Ashes challenge to rubble just days into the series. Andy Caddick, one ball remaining of his nth over, was determined he would not be the bowler to concede the landmark. He delivered a head high bouncer; Gilchirst stepped inside, and, with a vertical bat, dobbed the ball over Alec Stewart's head for the boundary. One shot that showed all the best attributes of the man: the eye of a hawk, intuitiveness, and a sense of fun which never left him and is one reason he will leave the international stage amongst the most popular players.

If Gilchrist had never gone near the wicket-keeping gloves, he would still be regarded as an amazing cricketer. That he managed such incredible batting feats with the added burden is what places him in the pantheon of the all-timers. Indeed it is probably the recent downturn in his keeping which has brought about what seemed an unlikely decision to retire. He was never a natural, impish gloveman, but at his best he was an extremely capable and reliable one. His athletic diving catches, such as that which dispatched Michael Vaughan at The Oval in 2005, and assured handling of Warne's warheads place him above the class of the artisan, while misses, before the last throes of his career, were infrequent. It is his underplayed wicket-keeping ability which has caused others to flounder while trying to find their own model, England especially. The benefit of a century-scoring batsman at No.7 caused others to ignore the basic Gilchrist brought to the table; wicket-keeping was always the first and last for Gilchrist, as it must be for any gloveman, however crucial the runs.

Adaptability was another feature of the Gilchrist legend. He first fulfilled the opener's role in ODI cricket almost by mistake, but will be remembered as one of the finest ever to play the one-day game. It is unthinkable that any other could hold the gloves in an all-time one-day World XI. With Australia in strife against Sri Lanka in 2004 and Ricky Ponting unable to bat at 3 in the second innings, Gilchrist stepped up and made 144. Australia won by 27 runs. It was Gilchrist, not Ponting, who captained Australia to victory in the 2004-5 series in India, doing what illustrious predecessors Taylor and Waugh had failed to.

It was 2005 when Gilchrist's golden period, along with Australia's, shuddered to a halt. Cramped by the round-the-wicket line of Flintoff and discomfited by the length which made the ball bounce above the flailing blade rather than into its arc, Gilchrist's best in the 5-match series was just 49. Had he been anything like himself with the bat, Australia would have won. Unlike his team, Gilchrist never really recovered, with only two more centuries and an increasing number of chances missed behind the stumps. Occasionally his batting flared, and spectacularly, with stupefying centuries against England, at Perth, and Sri Lanka, in the World Cup final. But they were sparks from a dying light, and it is probably prudent of Gilchrist to end his career now, before the murmurings over his position had a chance to become something more concrete. Perhaps with Brad Haddin's presence in the ODI team alongside him, he has sensed the shadow lengthening, in the same way his own hastened the end for Ian Healy back in 1999. Yet again, Australia can replace the great experience of a Test player with a seasoned pro at domestic level, and Haddin will likely do a very good job. But they have lost another of their golden era, someone whose career spanned both runs of 16 wins. Moreover, cricket has lost a star, a gent, and a player who can be ranked amongst the greatest ever at the very moment he hangs up his gloves for the last time.