Justin with James
Looking out over the County ground, from the Sir Ian Botham stand, in Somerset, I start to lose count of the number of times Justin Langer has run around the edge of the boundary.
The domestic match, in which he had been playing against Lancashire finished over an hour ago, but instead of packing his kit bag and leaving like the rest of the team, the Somerset skipper was out on the pitch, as he always is after a day’s play, circling the lush playing field in the beautiful surroundings of Somerset’s idyllic ground, in Taunton.
“I like to finish a game with twenty laps” he panted. “I believe if you have a healthy body you’ll have a healthy mind.”
Adding with some gusto, “When I finish cricket, I’m defiantly going to run a marathon.”
This, perhaps, is one of the reasons why the man once called ‘the best batsman in the world’, by Mark Waugh, has frustrated many of those on the opposing team. His focus, determination, passion and desire is paramount, and clear from the minute you look into his steel blue eyes. This man means business.
First to practice every morning and the last to leave, Langer who has a black belt in Taekwondo, explains, “The pain of discipline is nothing like the pain of disappointment. I don’t see enough of it really. If you really want to be the best at something, you’ve got to be disciplined in your choices for what you want to achieve.”
He continues, “I’ve always been fascinated by boxers. They train so hard and get so switched on, you can actually see the focus and all the hard work they’ve put in. I’ve always found that interesting because that’s how you’ve got to be when you walk out to bat. It’s not rainbows and butterflies. You’re going out to fight. Unless you’re aggressive as an opening batsman you’re going to get injured or even worse, out.”
But walking around the edge of the pitch with the man himself, as he warms down, I fail to understand what it is about this gritty player that has enraged England’s cricketers over the years. Far from being an ominous figure and someone Nasser Hussain, openly, said he could have strangled, the Aussie legend is rather genteel and softly spoken.
When we’re not discussing his illustrious cricketing career the pocket sized philosopher chats longingly about his family, his garden, which he calls his “sanctuary”, and his love of writing. “In my rose garden”, he explains. “I’ve got an apple tree, a peach tree, a nectarine tree, a big olive tree and my herb garden.”
Like a philosopher, the man who is small in stature but tall in enthusiasm asks me, “Do you know how good it is to pick your own herbs, from your own garden, for your own cooking?"
Like a philosopher, the man who is small in stature but tall in enthusiasm asks me, “Do you know how good it is to pick your own herbs, from your own garden, for your own cooking?"
He continues, “We get so caught up in the hustle and bustle and the business and the stress of everyday life, that we don’t make time for the things that really matter. It’s a cliché, ‘wake up and smell the roses’, but it’s true.”
He assures me, “When you smell a rose it really gets you back living in the mould.”
He assures me, “When you smell a rose it really gets you back living in the mould.”
Although the proud father of four is always in his garden, back home in Perth, he assures me it isn’t always to inspect the roses, or pick herbs for his tea, as it is here, at the bottom of his backyard that he has his own, custom-built gymnasium, that he claims won back the Ashes. “I use it for training”, he says with a huge smile. “It’s a great place to meditate and just escape from everything. It’s like my own little world.”
Although his wife, Sue, was aware he intended to build a place to train, she visualised something small. A place that could house a treadmill, a couple of weights and perhaps a stretching mat. He failed to mention the punch bag, the custom-built boxing ring and how a former SAS soldier, covered in tattoos, would arrive every morning to supervise his work-outs. It is here that he prepared meticulously for the last series in which England were white-washed.
Although his wife, Sue, was aware he intended to build a place to train, she visualised something small. A place that could house a treadmill, a couple of weights and perhaps a stretching mat. He failed to mention the punch bag, the custom-built boxing ring and how a former SAS soldier, covered in tattoos, would arrive every morning to supervise his work-outs. It is here that he prepared meticulously for the last series in which England were white-washed.
Langer, who is a huge boxing fan, explains, “The fight is won before you get in the ring, so I trained like a heavyweight fighter. Losing the Ashes was a big kick up the backside and the catalyst behind us regaining that little urn. It gave us determination and a new lease of life.”
The gym is a shrine to his all-time sporting hero, Muhammad Ali.
“I love him”, Langer says with a smile. “He was such a brilliant, beautiful athlete.”
With a certain amount of vigour he says, “The walls are covered in scribbles from a black felt marker.”
“I love him”, Langer says with a smile. “He was such a brilliant, beautiful athlete.”
With a certain amount of vigour he says, “The walls are covered in scribbles from a black felt marker.”
“I’ve got quotes everywhere. Quotes about courage and discipline. When I walk in there and look up they keep me going in the right direction. Sometimes I’ll read something and think to myself, ‘I’ve got to have that on my wall’.”
Although the left handed batsman recognises his hard work has helped him achieve what he set out to accomplish, he also regards his close bond with, fellow opening batsman, Matthew Hayden as a key factor that helped him turn from yesteryear’s ugly duckling into a stroke-playing swan.
The duo who “missed each other” when they were apart would openly exchange bear hugs in the middle, and always gave the impression of two boys living out a dream. “Matthew Hayden’s my best mate, and I think that’s why we formed such a successful partnership at the top order for so long. How many people can say they go to work with their best friend? It’s always going to motivate you.”
As we get towards the end of our second lap around the boundary, Justin, ever the philosopher, turns leaving me with this, “Remember James, twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the things you did.”
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