G'bye Marto

Damien Martyn was a very elegant batsman with a mixed career, and its only fitting that the bunch of memories he leaves behind for me are a suitably mixed lot. The first time I saw him was in the 1994/95 season as Australia and Austrlia 'A' clashed in the second finalof the wierd triangular (or was it a quadrangular series) that season. England and Zimbabwe made up the other two teams. At one stage, Australia 'A' were 111-1 in something like 20 or so overs (as Blewett and Martyn lashed the Australian seniors) before Martyn fell for 58 off 63 balls, and they subsided to 226 all out. Martyn's strokeplay was brilliant, the mark of a brilliant young talent, and I was suitably impressed. Years and years later, I remember the mature Martyn, frustrating India at Chennai, and then the Martyn of last year, at sea against Harmison, Jones and Flintoff. Its a strange retirement what with the stories of his rush from Australian shores making the rounds (unanswered text messages and all that) and its had a suitably wierd fallout: the precious remarks by Justin Langer on how he dare not retire just now.