Like father, like son - The saga of Lance and Chris Cairns

Lance Cairns and Chris Cairns

Heredity is a funny thing. It brings out the best within us when we need it the most, and yet at other times, it can become a failing when the gift it bestows upon us is not correctly utilised. But when the genes come together in a remarkable combination – talent and skill, nurtured through many years – you get to see events that are nothing short of spectacular.

Especially when it comes to the Cairns duo – father Bernard Lance Cairns and son Christopher. They heralded the beginning of a bit of a joyous period for New Zealand cricket. The former had the honour of playing alongside the great Richard Hadlee; the latter was fortunate to play under the stalwart leadership of Stephen Fleming. And the journey they embarked upon had an almost eerie similarity in the paths they took, right until the twilight of their eventful careers. The saga thus unfolds.

PART ONE: "Rawest of the Raw" and "The Class of Youth"

The elder Cairns was, as Cricinfo puts it, the “rawest of the raw” cricketers ever to grace the pitch. 40 years ago, you would be hard-pressed to find a player as unorthodox as him. No one told him that his bowling style was completely out of place in an era where the classic picture of a paceman was more side-on, and not too heavily reliant on the shoulders. Purists would have scoffed at his willow too – it resembled a wooden club more than a cricket bat. Aptly titled Excalibur, it would go down in history as the blade that sliced, or rather flattened, some of the best bowlers of that period.

Lance went on to achieve much success and renown with his unusual ways. He wasn’t your typical hell-raiser of the 60s and 70s – just a dedicated, committed team man willing to go the distance for his side. I see shades of Sir Lancelot (no pun intended) in some of the videos I found of his batting. He, truly, was the knight in shining armour for the Kiwis.

Chris, on the other hand, was more of your conventional all-rounder. Perhaps he had a touch more class than his illustrious father – well, at least arguably. Of course, his commitment was occasionally called into question, but there is no denying the fact that his transition from a rebellious, precocious talent to one of the senior statesmen in the squad during the first half of the 21st century made the Black Caps a force to reckon with, if only for a brief while.

Both father and son went on to become crowd favourites, and remained so till the end of their international sojourns.

PART TWO: The Swashbucklers

Hollywood veterans would certainly credit the likes of Clark Gable and Errol Flynn for pioneering the image of the swashbuckler – a dashing, debonair and highly skilled hero. It’s thus easy to say that the fad – for lack of a better word – rubbed off on the world of sport; notably, cricket. The Silver Ferns of the 70s and 80s found their swashbuckler in Bernard. The stage he chose was the World Series Cup tournament in Australia in 1982-83, where New Zealand had the chance to avenge their humiliation for the infamous underarm incident of 1981.

Excalbur roared every time its wielder walked out into the middle. At the MCG, he hammered six sixes off the likes of Lillee, Rodney Hogg and Ken MacLeay despite copping a nasty blow on the head from the first-named bowler. NZ eventually lost the game heavily, but Cairns won much adulation and fan support for his performances.

What happened between Lance and Lillee at the MCG in 1982-83 would be replayed in 2000, when Chris knocked the wily Shane Warne out of the attack with several huge hits that landed outside the Basin Reserve in Wellington. The progeny would later repeat his heroics in the final of the ICC Knockout Trophy against India, helping his side win their first major title at the global stage.

Lance could be considered more cavalier than his predecessor, yet the senior professional would also go on to play a rearguard innings noted for its uncharacteristic nature – determined but not flashy – against England in the 1983-84 Test series.

PS: In my book, BLC wins the battle of swashbucklers hands-down.

PART THREE: “Cherry” Pickings and the Injuries

Both men were highly intelligent bowlers, despite their vastly contrasting styles – Lance was more front-on, while his son favoured a side-on action. Their wicket-taking abilities, however, would thrust them in the limelight more often than not. While the senior devastated opposing batsmen with his devilish in-swingers (born of his unusual high-arm action) and reasonable pace, the younger lad preferred to master the art of swing and seam, perfecting his stock delivery: a hard-to-read slower ball. In his initial days, Chris was a relatively quicker bowler, with all the exuberance of youth.

Lance’s mastery of his art saw him demolish the England line-up in the 1983-84 home Test series, when he mowed down the first five batsmen with only 115 on the board. He finished with 7 wickets in that innings, although his more notable contribution came with the bat. Incidentally, it was during this series that the Kiwi crowds got their first glimpse of his son, who was 14 at the time. Chris himself would go on to devastate the English 16 years later, much like his father.

The Jovial Chris Was a Classical Seam Bowler

Then something happened. Something that, again, became inextricably woven in the web of their similar sojourns. Sportsmen have long fallen prey to this menace, and it has more often than not claimed them at the most inopportune times. It bears an innocuous yet deadly moniker – injury.

Neither of New Zealand’s best all-rounders (after Hadlee) were immune to this. BLC was nearly killed when a brute of a delivery from 19-year-old Wasim Akram struck him hard on the back of the head. He had no helmet on, and was hospitalized with a suspected hairline fracture of the skull – the clip of this incident still gives me goosebumps. The beginning of the end of his playing days was upon him.

CLC was particularly affected in the back and the knees, often necessitating a plethora of surgeries. His pace dropped down, forcing him to rely on his slower delivery for wickets. Yet, the writing on the wall was becoming alarmingly clear with each new assault on his fragile body.

Matters would come to a head soon for both. With Injury came the final ignominy.

PART FOUR: No Fairytale End – The worst anti-climax ever

The wisdom of cricket administrators is seldom questioned when the national team does well on the big stage. But once form slumps, injuries and a spate of defeats begin to occur for a prolonged spell, and the axe begins to fall down hard on those affected by such malaise. In some cases, the reasons are as ludicrous as the possibility of pigs sprouting wings and flying away.

At 36, the immensely popular and adored Picton all-rounder was forced into premature retirement just like his skipper Geoff Howarth. 1985 had to be the worst year for Kiwi cricket, because Bernard was denied the option of choosing his own time to walk into the sunset. Chris, on the other hand, lasted just a year longer after yet another comeback from injury.

And in the worst possible anti-climax to their glittering careers, neither man scored any runs, nor did they take any wickets in their final games. Bereft of all sheen, the two cricketers slowly faded away from the spotlight. Perhaps the last bit of similarity was not the kind of ending they had in mind.

One of my favourite novels has the quote: ”Does the walker choose the path, or the path the walker?”

In the Cairns saga, they certainly chose the path, and yet, it forsook them in the heydays of their powers.

Chris’s life has been turbulent of late, with allegations of match-fixing and two broken marriages; Lance has been living in the world of the hearing impaired for nearly 50 years. It is certainly not the kind of similarity either would want, but one they share nonetheless.

Thank you, father and son, for the cricketing memories you have left us with.