Shane Warne is there at the top of his run, and I just know he’s
going to bowl the ‘Gatting ball’. He’s full of purpose,
ripping the cherry from hand to hand, and he’s asking his captain
for another close fielder. The stands of Old Trafford are in the background,
and I’m tapping my bat firmly into the pitch. A little nervous perhaps,
but then Warney looks nervous too. After all, he’s about to deliver
his first ever ball in an Ashes test match, and unlike me, he doesn’t
know it’s going to be the ‘Gatting ball’.
He begins that famous, ambulatory approach and I resolve that I’m
not going to make the same mistakes Gatting did. For starters, I’m
going to use my feet. Dance down. Get to it on the full. Then I’m
going to swing in a clean graceful pendulum, and watch the ball arc sweetly
away into the Manchester mist. After all, if I’ve learned nothing
else from various hour-long monologues from Ian Chappell, attack is the
best form of defence.
Warne reaches the crease and in front of him there’s a pop and
a whir as a bowling machine spits out the greatest ball in history. I
begin my charge, strong and committed, the same charge that earned me
a double digit average batting down the order at Froggy Hollow in the
South Eastern Suburban churches. Then suddenly, with eyes closed and bat
hovering somewhere above my ears, there’s the solid clunk of timber.
The crowd groans and I can only assume that there is bad news in relation
to my off stump. I turn around and look disbelieving behind me, as if
I don’t want to go, which I don’t because apart from sharing
a beer and a tomato sauce sandwich with the great man, this is about as
good as it gets.
On the video screen, Warne is now screaming and sending me on my way
and Ian Healy is muttering insults I assume are meant for Gatting - something
about me being fat with a stupid beard and being lucky to get a game for
Middlesex. In any event, I’ve had my first go at the Shane Warne
Interactive Experience at the revamped Gallery of Sport, and in a few
minutes, I’ll have another. Next time, I’m committing myself
to nudging the ‘Gatting ball’ quietly out to cover.
According to MCC Trust Chairman John Wylie, this is the sort of experience
sports fans will enjoy at a restructured and relocated Australian Gallery
of Sport. The image I have is a sort of sporting Disneyland, where instead
of getting a hug from Mickey Mouse, you get to a punch in the back of
the head from a mechanised Micky Martyn.
Mr Wylie has also talked about the possibility for real time races on
treadmills against Cathy Freeman or Betty Cuthbert. Most likely, this
would involve punters running at their own pace, while watching their
virtual heroes slip steadily ahead on a video screen. There has been less
enthusiasm for allowing us to actually be the star. To set the treadmill
to Freeman pace, display a Cathy-eye view of the track, and then see how
long it takes the challenger to shoot off the back.
Swimming simulators will pose some practical dry land difficulties, so
the museum may consider my idea of a 10 metre high flagpole which visitors
can climb to souvenir a Japanese flag.
If the MCC thinks it can woo us into turning a blind eye to the demolition
of the Members Pavilion, just by promising an interactive gallery of sport,
it could be on to something. I, for one, have been completely swayed.
I’ll even go so far as to say that if they need to skimp a little
on the grandstand to save money for a Joe Bugner rope-a dope exhibit,
fire away.
Who knows, in time the museum might even move from video and mechanical
interaction to virtual reality helmets. The technology is there. Then
any veteran member who is missing his old obscured view of the greatest
sporting ground in Australia can simply borrow a helmet, take a seat in
a spectacular 21st century stadium and program in a pillar.
