Matt Thistlethwaite (Kingsford Smith, Australian Labor Party, Shadow Parliamentary Secretary for Foreign Affairs) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

On the 10th of April this year, the voice of Australian cricket fell silent. Australia lost a legend. The game of cricket lost its greatest ambassador, and our community of Kingsford Smith lost one of its most loved and cherished residents.

Richie Benaud, I think, is amongst two people who are synonymous with Australian cricket: Sir Donald Bradman and Richie Benaud. When you think about Australian cricket, you think of those two individuals. His on-field career speaks for itself: 63 test matches for Australia, 2201 runs for 248 wickets. He captained Australia in 28 tests and, whilst he was the captain of our national team, Australia never lost a test series.

He was known for his aggressive style of captaincy and play, always playing for the win. It was that aggression and approach to the game that saw him involved in—and captaining—the notorious tied test against the West Indies, in 1960. He ambitiously took on trying to win that game. It went down to the last ball and ended up in a tie. He brought a new charisma to the role of captain of the Australian cricket team. He was media-savvy. He understood how to connect with Australians. He brought an allure to that particular role. He really laid the foundations for the reverence that Australians now show for the captain of our national cricket side.

Upon his retirement from cricket, Richie Benaud began a career in journalism. He actually started working for the BBC, in 1956, as a part-time journalist while he was still the captain of the Australian cricket team. At the conclusion of a test series in England he would stay behind and do some work for the BBC. In 1964 he retired from international cricket and took on the role of journalism full-time, initially not working in cricket but eventually coming back to the game that he loved and commentating, both in Britain and Australia.

He was a vehement critic of the actions of the Chappells in the 1981 underarm incident, against New Zealand, and believed that it lowered the tone and standard of the game of cricket. He commentated on 500 test matches throughout his career. It is an achievement that I do not think will ever be matched by any other commentator. Richie was also a very passionate advocate for having cricket broadcast free to air so that all Australians had access to the game that we love over the summer.

Richie Benaud was also involved in many charities. He often worked and volunteered his time to support many charities within not only our local community but also nationally and the world. He was inducted into the Sport Australia Hall of Fame in 1985, the Australian Cricket Hall of Fame in 2007 and the ICC Cricket Hall of Fame in 2009. He even won a couple of Logies for his work as a commentator.

For me as a child growing up, there were two hallmarks of summer: one was the beach and the other was cricket in the afternoon. The trusty beige jacket and dulcet tones of Richie Benaud were the symbol of cricket. He really was the voice of Australian cricket. Listening and watching Australian cricket is not the same without hearing the voice of Richie Benaud.

Later in his life, Richie and his wife retired and lived, in our community, in Coogee. They were beloved residents. You would often see Richie walking around the beach and cliffs of Coogee. He would always stop and give time to those who wanted to have a chat about what was going on in cricket or what was going on in the local community. It is quite fitting that Randwick City Council have decided to erect a sporting walk of fame at Coogee Oval and that the first inductee into the Randwick sporting walk of fame will be none other than Richie Benaud, a fitting tribute to his contribution to our community, to Australian cricket and to international cricket generally. I offer my condolences to his family. May he rest in peace.

Anthony Albanese (Grayndler, Australian Labor Party, Shadow Minister for Infrastructure and Transport) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

I think it is appropriate that this parliament pay tribute to a great Australian in Richie Benaud. Is there any other sports commentator in the world who is so much of a cult figure

that literally hundreds of grown men are prepared to don white wigs and cream-coloured suits in an annual fancy dress party to pay tribute? I doubt it. But, once a year at the test at the Sydney Cricket Ground, hundreds of cricket fans dress up as Richie Benaud. I noticed during this year's test it was not just men. It does not matter if the temperature is 40 degrees. They are there all day—'The Richies'—paying homage to a man who became a familiar and a very welcome presence in their lives and in the lives of millions of people around the world over a period of more than six decades. I suspect there is something very Australian about The Richies' presence at the SCG, and I think next year will break the record for the number of Richies, as I am sure even more people will pay tribute to this great Australian.

So much has been said about the death of Richie Benaud that it is hard to break new ground in any tribute to his remarkable life. The key word that comes to mind when I think of this great sportsman and journalist is integrity—integrity as a bowler and batsman; integrity as a captain who led his team with an intense fighting spirit but never forgot to treat his opponents with courtesy; and, later, absolute integrity as a journalist and commentator.

It is often difficult to explain to visitors to our great land how people can sit and watch every ball of a game that goes for five days without, potentially, getting a result. But what cricket is about is not just what is written down. It is what is unwritten: the culture of sportsmanship that someone like Richie Benaud embodied—a man who would never have claimed a catch that he knew had not been taken; and a man who played absolutely within the spirit of the game and embodied it as a sport—a contest, yes—but a sport. It was about relationships and bridging those relationships between all countries who play that great sport.

What made Richie Benaud stand out was his understanding that, while winning was important, what was more important was the way that you played the game. After his death last month, many people described him as the voice of the Australian summer. But the truth is he was the voice of world cricket—a man known as widely in other cricket-playing countries as he was in Australia. He was also the voice of English summer, which is remarkable—broadcasting every year, regardless of whether Australia was playing or not. He loved cricket, but he refused to let that affect his commentary as an Australian. He was above all a cricket enthusiast. He was as generous about the great batting of Tendulkar, or performances by Botham or Viv Richards, as he was about Mark Waugh or Allan Border or Dennis Lillee.

He was happy to offer criticism where it was warranted. When Greg Chappell ordered his brother Trevor to bowl underarm against New Zealand in 1981, Richie Benaud had no hesitation in condemning the decision. Whoever was playing, you always felt that when Richie was commentating, his key concern was you—the listener. He did not see his job as barracking for any particular team. His concern was to use his special knowledge and experience to help people understand and enjoy cricket. Much-loved ABC commentator Jim Maxwell perhaps put it best when he described Richie as 'cricket's pope'.

He was indeed a gentleman who I had the honour of meeting on a number of occasions. His knowledge, his authenticity and his genuineness just shone through. I will miss hearing that voice: he was very much a part of our lives. He played 63 tests for Australia; he was the first player to score 2,000 test runs and take 200 wickets. As Australian captain, he never lost a series; as a commentator, he had no peer.

Recently I was listening to an ABC radio documentary about the 1961 West Indies tour of Australia, which of course featured the famous tied test at the Gabba. Richie was interviewed for the program along with other greats of the era. What impressed me the most was the way that Richie and his opposing captain, the great Sir Frank Worrell, formed an informal pact at the beginning of the series. Of course they were going to try to beat each other, but the most important thing was they were going to play to win, not just to draw, and they played an exciting brand of cricket that re-energised cricket from that 1961 series on. I think that tells you everything that you needed to know about Richie Benaud: just as he put his viewers first when he was in the commentary box, he put those people at the ground watching the game first when he was a player and a captain. He knew that they wanted to be concerned about the style of the game as well as the outcome at the end of a test match. I think that was the secret of his greatness.

Even in his final months, as he fought the melanoma that he linked to sun exposure during his playing career, he was happy to appear publicly to urge children not to make the same mistake. His tribute to Phil Hughes was quite remarkable, even though he himself at the time was going through his illness. He never looked for sympathy. What he wanted though, with his campaign against sun cancer, was to make sure that others benefitted from his experience.

To his family and many friends, particularly his wife, Daphne, whom he spoke about often and so affectionately, I offer my sincere condolences. And to cricket fans here and indeed everywhere throughout the world, I say we are all very lucky to have shared time on this earth with Richie Benaud.

Craig Kelly (Hughes, Liberal Party) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

It gives me great pleasure to rise and speak on this tribute to Richie Benaud. Richie Benaud was born back on 6 October 1930, during the Depression, and passed away on 10 April 2015. His test record and his cricket record: he debuted for New South Wales at the age of 18, and made his test debut at the age of 21. His record stands at: playing 63 test matches; scoring 2,201 runs, with a batting average of 24.45; scoring three hundreds—three centuries—and nine half-centuries, with a top score of 122; he took 248 wickets, with a bowling average 27.03; and took five wickets in an innings 16 times, with a best bowling figure of 7/72. Upon his retirement, he was the only test cricketer in history at the time to have achieved the double of scoring 2,000 runs and taking 200 wickets. His bowling record of 248 test wickets would stand until it was broken by the great Dennis Lillee. But his record as captain was even more impressive than his test record. As captain, he regained the Ashes for Australia and retained them twice. In fact, he never lost a series as captain.

He was also not an overnight success—something that we all should learn from. In fact, as a batsman, in his first test match, he made the scores of three and 19. He was not even given a bowl in the first innings, and in the second innings he was only given a bowl when the West Indies were nine batsman out. He took his first wicket then, with 14 runs from only 4.3 overs. His first tour of England, again, you would have to say, was a complete failure. In his first two tests he managed only eight runs in four innings, took only two wickets for 136 runs and then was dropped for the third test. He was recalled for the fourth test, but was dropped for the fifth, after managing only seven runs and going without a wicket. He finished that series with a grand total of 15 runs, at a batting average of three, and two wickets at 87 apiece. So it is a lesson again—a lesson of many of the great people throughout history—that success does not come automatically; it is achieved through hard work and persistence. Richie Benaud was absolutely no different.

What made Richie Benaud so famous and so popular, of course, was his commentary. Throughout many a long summer, it was Richie there with us in our living rooms on the TV. I am in my 50s, and I think many people around my age—and older and younger—as young kids we almost had a bit of cricket embedded in our DNA. That comes from Richie Benaud's broadcasts. The words 'Welcome back to the MCG' are a part of our summer. Of course, he was master of the understatement. Richie Benaud's economy of words was beautiful. He also became a cult hero from the 12th Man tapes, which I am sure many of us have had a great laugh over. Richie actually wrote to Billy Birmingham, the 12th Man, on his tapes—again, using his beautiful economy of words. After Billy Birmingham sent Richie a copy of his latest recording, Richie said:

Dear Billy,

Thanks for the cassette and record of your latest creation.

Plus mark, excellent entertainment as always. Minus mark, the same as last time. A bit too long, too much swearing for the sake of it and Chappelli’s voice still not right.

But in a word: brilliant.

richie

Cricket has a special part in our nation's history; Richie Benaud will always be a part of that history. As we say in the words of Richie: a marvellous life; a marvellous innings. May he rest in peace.

Bernie Ripoll (Oxley, Australian Labor Party, Shadow Minister Assisting the Leader for Small Business) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

I appreciate the opportunity to speak on this very important matter of condolence, which honours the life of Richie Benaud. I know that many people in the parliament have associated themselves with the words that have been said, and I want to do the same thing and associate myself with the words of the Prime Minister and also of the Leader of the Opposition. It is said that Australia is a sporting nation, and we hold our sporting legends very close to our hearts. I think that, in itself, is an understatement, because we seem to almost be consumed by sport in so many different ways. It is sometimes difficult to understand that; at other times, it is very simple. It is a form of identity. It is a way that we connect with each other as communities and as people, it is a way that we can compete, and it is even a way in which people that not only play sport but report and commentate on sport have become—as we have heard from other speakers—part of our lives. Richie Benaud was definitely part of our lives.

In the passing of Richie, at the age of 84, we have lost not just a sporting champion of Australia but also an icon of modern Australian life. He may have been born in 1930 but he really was a modern person, somebody who evolved and changed with the times, not only with cricket but with life itself.

To many Australians, as we have heard often, Richie was the voice of summer—a distinctive voice at that—much imitated but never quite replicated might be the nicest way to say it. We all relied on his definitive word about what was happening out on the field and often what was happening more broadly about cricket as well. If Richie told viewers what the players were thinking or what the tactics were, somehow that seemed to carry that little bit more weight than if somebody else had told us those thoughts.

If we consider why Richie was so loved by so many, I think it was because he could deliver this insight with a shrewd wit and a dry sense of humour. He really was believable. It was almost as if he was telling you what the players were actually thinking when they were out of the field—what was really happening. There was a special bond, a connection, that he had with viewers and with the players in the game of cricket.

He was born in Penrith in 1930. He was an excellent leg-spin bowler and an accomplished batsman as well. He was the first in test cricket history to reach the 200 wicket and 2,000 run mark, and that is a great accomplishment for him, and he has been well acknowledged for those achievements. Richie captained Australia for 28 test matches between the 1958-59 and 1963-64 seasons. Australia never lost a series under Richie Benaud's captaincy, an achievement that was in part due to his dedication to lead a team that played attacking and entertaining cricket, something all Australians love.

After his retirement from cricket, Richie continued his career as a professional journalist and broadcaster in Australia and England, and there is no doubt he did a fine job in all aspects of that. He became the host of the world series cricket broadcasts in 1977. Just as the game on the field changed forever with the advent of world series cricket, with Richie as the host television broadcasts of cricket were also never the same. He brought a life to that broadcast. Perhaps it might never have been as good as it is without him having been there.

Richie settled into his role, and for decades he became so familiar to Australians that there has been a sense of something missing when watching the cricket in recent years as he reduced his appearances. I am sure it will take some time for Australians who watch the cricket to adjust to Richie's permanent departure from our screens—so deep was that connection.

It can be said that there are other sports where there are similar connections with broadcasters and commentators but it would be hard to find many that had such a deep connection as Richie Benaud. I offer my sincere condolences to: his wife, Daphne; all his family; all his loved ones; and to the cricket world more broadly.

John Alexander (Bennelong, Liberal Party) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

Sport is a very important part of our culture—possibly more so than in any other country—and cricket holds a very special place in that sporting heritage. Richie Benaud certainly held a very special place in cricket. It is a cliche, but interestingly—as we have heard from our colleagues—this is one that unites us all: Richie Benaud was the voice of cricket, the voice of our summer. Whilst we often welcome to our shores commentators from other countries, like Britain, to commentate on cricket, and an American or two to commentate on other sports, it is very rare that an Australian is invited to commentate in Britain, but Richie was as admired and accepted in Britain, the home of cricket, as he was in Australia.

His unique voice will stay with us all. Hearing it instantly evokes memories of its companion sounds of cicadas in trees, of a bat on a ball and of Bill Lawry's cheers—what a great duo they were. It would tell you also about Richie's generosity in working with his fellow commentators. His voice is synonymous with the halcyon days of summers long gone and summers which will be missed now forever. That is Richie the cliche; Richie the man has a far greater legacy which speaks to his sportsmanship, his leadership and his commitment.

Joining the Australian team as a batsman he soon impressed with the ball and became a fixture in the team, filling the massive shoes of Bill O'Reilly was not an easy feat. But Benaud's skill as a leg-spin bowler strengthened Australia's reputation in this dark art—to be cemented years later by one Shane Warne. On the field, Benaud's statistics speak for themselves. He remains number 8 on the list of leading Australian wicket-takers, with his 248 wickets taken in only 63 games. This left him as the highest wicket-taker in Australia at the time of his retirement. Impressively, these wickets were taken at an economy of 2.10, by far the lowest in the top 10. While history has remembered his bowling ahead of his batting, he is still the holder of the third-fastest test century in minutes—and his score of more than 10,000 first-class runs. Indeed, for most of his career he was considered an all-rounder and was famously the first player to score 2,000 runs and take 200 wickets in their career. This unique record keeps Richie in exalted company.

As impressive a player as he undoubtedly was, Benaud's leadership is perhaps his greatest onfield legacy. His collegiate approach to captaincy set a benchmark that all subsequent leaders of our team have tried to emulate. Richie took charge of a young team following the retirement of Bradman and most of 'The Invincibles'. As our recent cricket history demonstrates, rebuilding a team after its foundations retire is no easy feat. But Australia's return to form following the post-Bradman slump can be directly attributed to his aggressive captaincy and to his ability to unite his team.

The opening day of the famous tied test saw over 250 runs scored. This may not be a great feat in today's age of thick bats and sympathetic pitches, but it apparently led to the unflappable Bradman embracing Richie with excitement at the prospect of what this could mean for the future of cricket. And the crowds did flock to see the attacking style of the play over the following four days with sold out crowds throughout the match. This series epitomised test cricket as it should be: aggressive, attacking, hard-fought and very close. Yet any confrontation between the teams on the field was replaced with civility and respect off the field, with both teams recognising the hard work and the talents of their opponents. Sadly, this sort of competitive camaraderie is hard to imagine these days.

If his captaincy style reformed test cricket, it was his involvement in world series cricket and commentary that led the sport in new popular directions and secured his legacy as one of the greats of the sport. The success of one-day cricket was dependent on the broadcasting, and Richie ensured it was a runaway hit. The years that followed brought all of us great calls. Benaud's commentary of the ball of the century was almost as memorable as the ball itself. His composure when his retirement speech from British TV was interrupted by a howling McGrath wicket was nothing of short of poetry. He summed up his philosophy about commentary by saying: 'Put your brain into gear. And, if you can add to what is on screen, then do it. Otherwise, shut up.' As a young commentator I was given the same advice. It is not radio; it is television. You do not need to tell people what they have just seen. So, as a fellow commentator, I can attest to the truth of this philosophy: let the picture tell the stories.

One of his less famous roles, yet one that impacted on me personally, was in his time spent in sport as the IMG agent in Australia. I had been signed up by IMG—Mark McCormack's group—and he thought it would be nice for me to meet the Australian agent, Richie Benaud. My father was delighted to come with me and have lunch with Richie. My father claimed to be the youngest player of his school to ever make the first grade team and, like all men of his age, he played against the great Don Bradman. He did not embellish the story any more to say he bowled him out three times—which did not happen. I think he actually did play against Don Bradman as his school often played against Bowral and so there is every chance that that was not such an embellishment. He was absolutely delighted to meet Richie. We drove to his apartment in Bondi, picked him up and we went to the Sebel Townhouse and you just think, this is Christmas to be with this great sportsman—and Dad's first love was cricket, as was mine.

The day got better because Harry Secombe was at an adjoining table—being a great fan of cricket, he arranged his calendar of events to coincide with the cricket—and so he came and joined us. For a dad and his son to come from the northern beaches to have had lunch in the city with Richie Benaud and Harry Secombe, you go home and tell Mum about this and get 'sure boys, you have lost it'. Whenever I would run into Richie in future years, rare as that might have been, I would remind him of his stint with IMG and our meeting and what it meant to the Alexander family and how he touched us. The only time I can recall seeing Richie upset, or maybe lose his cool, was during the underarm bowling incident. It had some impact on us because just a few months later we played tennis against New Zealand, in New Zealand, and we got less than a friendly response. There was that great saying that 'it just wasn’t cricket' because cricket embodied not just a win at all costs; it was how you played the game. When you think of the term 'it's just not cricket', you know it doesn't apply to Richie Benaud—he was the epitome of the sport.

Russell Matheson (Macarthur, Liberal Party) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

I thank the Member for Bennelong for his wonderful contribution in respect of Richie Benaud. Today I rise to honour and pay tribute to Richie Benaud, one of our finest ever Australians. It is hard to articulate what Richie Benaud means to Australia and cricket fans throughout the world. Those younger than me will remember him as the preeminent commentator and the benevolent grandfather of cricket, with the rich evocative voice that became so familiar. Cricket will never be the same without it. He certainly was the voice of summer. Those of my generation remember Richie as a tough, fearless, canny, Australian cricket captain who never lost a test series and in 1963 was the first man in the history of the game to do the double of 2,000 test runs and 200 test wickets. Richie Benaud was born in Penrith in Sydney's south west on Monday 6 October 1930 to parents Louis and Irene. Richie was born into a sport-loving family, with his mother a fine tennis player in her youth and his father, Louis, or Lou, as he was known, a talented leg spinner who transferred his cricket passions to his two sons, Richie and John, who both played for Australia. By his own account, Richie's childhood was filled with happiness and adventure as he found his passion for the game which would later make him famous. I would like to read an excerpt from Richie's autobiography that captures this magical time in his formative years:

Better than heaven was when the team was one short and aged twelve 12 I was allowed to bat for Cumberland against Petersham in 1942 at Petersham Oval.

I took quite a good catch off my father's bowling when they batted and then with nine wickets down I went out to bat.

We needed four runs and I had one ball to play in the over.

Everyone was crouched around. I played forward and dropped the ball at my feet. Milton Jarrett the big hitter and medium-pace bowler took strike at the other end, smashed the ball for six and the game was over.

It was like playing a Test cricket match or so it seemed at the time. When I walked off the field Milton Jarrett looked ten foot tall. I felt the same and there was no happier twelve-year old than me.

In many ways, this recollection perfectly sums up the man we came to know and love—a person filled by the success of others, a person who was determined to win, but only do so within the spirit of the game.

Richie's success playing cricket is beyond repute. He made his national debut at 21, but it was not until the 1957-58 tour of South Africa that he really made his mark and established himself on the international stage. Richie was player of the tour. His fielding was excellent. In 18 first-class matches he scored 817 runs at 51.06 and took 106 wickets at 19.41 that saw Australia take the series 3-0. Added to this, it was abundantly clear he was leadership material, despite being in the shadow of Ian Craig at the time. The Australian Cricket Board went through a period of great upheaval after that successful South African tour, but Richie emerged as captain and took the reins as skipper in a home series against England in 1958, leading the side to regain the Ashes. His Australian team went on to defend the coveted trophy twice, and during his rein as skipper, Benaud was in charge of the national side for 28 tests, and in that time Australia never lost a series.

As Andrew McGarry wrote:

Most remarkable still was the way he achieved this feat: not by grinding out results but with an attacking flair that not only produced results but captured the imagination of the public that was jaded with Test cricket. In this way he broke new ground and set a model for the modern cricket captain.

This is certainly a view held by Michael Clarke, who credits Richie with creating the winning culture that led Australia to become the most dominant force in world cricket. As Clarke said in April in response to Richie's passing:

He loved winning. He helped the Australian team have the attitude where they wanted to win.

He played the game the right way. He saw the game that not many people are gifted enough to see …

This gift that Richie had for reading and understanding the game was crystal clear in his commentary and writing, which educated and enthralled countless cricket fans for more than 40 years.

I feel it is only appropriate that I conclude with a passage from Richie's writing taken from his book The Appeal of Cricket:

Great players and great team men, ordinary players and ordinary team men have taken part in splendid or mediocre matches.

There have been changes to laws and the playing conditions and stubbornness and ignorance ensure that in some areas no change will take place.

There are been generous incidents and bitchy behaviour, joy and despair.

This is in part what makes cricket such a great game—a game that should be taken seriously.

Involved is a stern test of character for everyone: players, umpires, administrators, media representatives and cricket followers.

More than anything else this is the appeal of cricket.

In a finishing, may I say: rest in peace, Richie. You were loved and respected by all and certainly will never be forgotten. Our thoughts go out to Daphne, John and the entire Benaud family for their loss.

Ken O'Dowd (Flynn, National Party) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

Today I would like to join with my colleagues on both sides of the House in paying respect and tribute to the great Australian Richie Benaud. Born on 6 October 1930 and passing away on 10 April 2015, he sadly lost his battle with cancer last month at the age of 84.

Richie was a man of many talents, including being a daring Australian cricket captain and the voice of cricket, the voice of summer. He was arguably the greatest Australian cricketer of his generation, but he is known to generations as Channel 9's cricket commentator. For decades his voice was always there. He became a familiar presence in households across the country for his analysis of the sport he loved.

Richie was a celebrated all-rounder who will be remembered for his many sporting achievements, among them: hitting 100 runs against the West Indies in 78 minutes, the third fastest century of all time and the second fastest by an Australian; captaining Australia in 28 tests, including 12 wins, 11 draws, one tie and four losses—he never lost a series—and becoming the first player to complete the test double of 200 wickets and 2,000 runs. He was the first Australian to achieve that milestone. Having said that, back in his era there was not the number of test matches we play today.

It is worth noting that he is one of only 10 Australian cricketers to have scored more than 10,000 runs and taken more than 500 wickets in first-class cricket. He debuted at Sydney Cricket Ground in January 1952 against the West Indies. He played his last test, again in Sydney, in 1964, against South Africa. His batting: he played in 64 matches, he scored 2,201 runs, and his highest score was 122. He made three centuries in his career as a test player. He will probably be remembered more for his bowling than for his batting. He took 248 wickets. Best figures were seven for 72, at an average of 27.03. He played many first-class matches from 1949 to 1964—259 first-class matches in total. He scored 11,719 runs and took 945 wickets—an outstanding achievement.

What he remembers as probably one of the finest matches he has ever competed in was the famous tied test at the Gabba in 1960. There were some great players in that team. Alan Davidson, for instance, the left-hand swing bowler, took five for 135 and six for 87.    Wes Hall, a strapping young West Indian—very tall, very powerful—took four for 140 and five for 63. This is the calibre of players he was playing with. Garry Sobers scored 132; he was arguably the best all-rounder in the world. Norm O'Neil made 181 runs. Frank Worrell, the captain of the West Indies team, scored 65. Alan Davidson had a good double for the match; he also scored 80. It was a very exciting last day of that test match. Australia had seven for 227. They needed 233 runs to win the match. Benaud was out on the second ball of the last over. There were then two more run outs, and the scores were locked at the end of the match at 232. Later that afternoon Benaud and Worrell stood on the veranda of the Gabba and congratulated their teams for playing the game in the very highest of spirits. In that match, Benaud and Davidson scored a seventh-wicket record of 134.

The great man also has a lasting place in popular culture satire. Billy Birmingham's The Twelfth Mandepicted the whole commentating team: Richie, Bill Lawry and Tony Greig—'It was a great laugh', and we probably all remember 'two for 22'; that was Richie's saying. And when he got to the stage where one match went for 'two for 222', everyone roared laughter. That was Billy Birmingham, a good mate of Richie Benaud.

He was also a family man and is survived by his wife of 47 years, Daphne; his brother, John, who also played cricket for Australia; and of course a large extended family. John was also a very handy cricketer. He played only three matches for Australia, but he did have a higher score than Richie; his highest score in three matches was 142. In keeping with Richie's modest wishes, his family declined an offer of a state funeral. A noble man, his final request was that guests at his funeral not bring flowers but instead make a donation to the Primary Club, a charity that provides sporting facilities for the disabled, of which Richie was the patron.

Richie was the last man standing from a golden age in Australian cricket. He will be sorely missed by his family and friends and by world cricket. A marvellous effort, Richie. Rest in peace.

Michael McCormack (Riverina, National Party, Parliamentary Secretary to the Minister for Finance) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

The cream, the bone, the off-white, the ivory or the beige: they are the familiar words of summer. They are the familiar words of every cricket season, be it summer or be it an Ashes series in England, in the middle of an Australian winter, and we all know that they belong and relate to and are very much a part of Richie Benaud. Vale, Richie Benaud. We already miss him.

I almost cannot believe that Richie's international cricketing career ended in 1964. That is the year I was born, and people tell me that that was a long time ago! But the fact that he has been so much a part of our cricketing folklore post his cricketing career is truly remarkable. He was, as the member for Flynn just indicated, the voice of our summer, the voice of our cricket. I claim him as Riverina boy. Jugiong is not actually in the Riverina electorate, but Jugiong considers itself part of the wider Riverina. He was not born in Jugiong; he was actually born in Penrith, in Sydney. But he forged an indelible link with the Riverina by being educated at the local public school there, where his father, Louis, was the principal. Lou actually took all 20 wickets in a Sydney grade cricket match against St Marys, playing for Cumberland, which is truly remarkable. So Richie obviously had that cricketing ability coursing through his young veins.

Certainly, Richie made his first-grade debut at a very young age. The talent scouts spotted him, and pretty soon he was part of the New South Wales team and, not long after that, a member of our test team—and what a great test career he forged. What a marvellous, as he would say, career he forged: 63 tests and 2,201 runs. He took 248 wickets with his very crafty, thoughtful leggies. He was a tremendous cricketer for us.

But most people probably remember Richie for being behind the microphone. Most people remember him for his analysis of the game, for his careful summary of how matches were panning out. When there were incidents in international cricket, you could always rely on Richie to come up with a very diplomatic and thoughtful commentary on a particular incident that put it into perspective. He was not one for getting too excited. But, I tell you what, when he did get excited, you knew it was for something very, very special. We all remember Richie's commentary of Shane Warne's first-ever delivery in England, when he removed Mike Gatting with 'that ball' around the English captain's legs, bowling him out.

Richie's passing at the age of 84, on 10 April 2015, was mourned not just throughout our nation but indeed throughout the world. He died in his sleep and he died of skin cancer. Back in the day, Richie's shirt was usually unbuttoned all the way down to his waist, with the sleeves rolled up. He was part of that great era of the bronzed Aussie, when everybody went out and got a suntan, when 'Slip! Slop! Slap!' was probably not a part of our summers. As we mourn Richie's death, we should also—as Richie would want us to—make sure we cover up in summer when we are standing in the slips or out at the beach, because the Australian sun is deadly. Richie, like so many others, was a victim of those all-too-often summer afternoons spent in the hot, blazing Australian sun, doing what he did best and loving it at the time but, unfortunately, treating his skin to those deadly rays.

His passing was certainly mourned in Wagga Wagga, which is very much a cricketing city. It is home to Geoff Lawson, the former test fast bowler. It is home to Mark Taylor, the former Australian cricket captain, although he probably came more from Leeton than from Wagga, but we will claim him because he went to high school there. And it is home to Michael Slater, the very aggressive former test opening batsman. We know that those three have also got behind the mike in recent years: Taylor and Slater with Channel Nine, having spent many a summer in the commentary booth with Richie; and Geoff Lawson, a very, very good commentator with the ABC.

As I say, Richie's death was mourned in Wagga Wagga. There was an unusual gathering of young cricketers, and some not so young, for a photo for TheDaily Advertiser newspaper, to reflect on the role that Richie had played not just in cricketing circles but in their lives. We had Samuel Smith, 12 years old, of South Wagga; Sam Perry of Wagga RSL; Will Morley of Kooringal Colts; Martin Loy, a good mate of mine from St Michael's; Sean Gaynor, a young fellow from Lake Albert; and Josh Thompson, a very good, bright young cricketer from Wagga City, who came together for a shot to talk about their memories of Richie. Of course, most of them were far too young to remember Richie rolling his arm over for Australia, but they remembered him for what he did in the commentary box. Geoff Lawson also made some comments to the paper. Martin Loy said:

'You have Bradman'—

another Riverina boy from Cootamundra—

Mr O'Dowd interjecting—

Well, we have many, Member for Flynn! I do not have time to relay all the sportsmen that we have produced in the Riverina. Marty Loy said:

'You have Bradman, Waugh and you have Richie Benaud …'

As the paper said:

As evening descended on Wagga, all six of the city's cricket clubs paid tribute to the icon of Australian sport.

I think Geoff Lawson summed it up very well when he described him—because he knew him:

'He was very friendly, very affable and loved to talk to anyone about cricket—it didn't matter who you were," he said. 'He was the kind of person that would always go out of his way to shake your hand.'

One of my favourite photos is with my sons Alexander, who is now 20, and Nicholas, who is 17. They are cricketers. They are much better than their father, thank goodness! I still play, mind you. I still open the batting at the age of 50. We got a photo taken with Richie when we played at the Sydney Cricket Ground. Yes, I played at the Sydney Cricket Ground—probably the worst cricketer to ever grace that famous sporting arena. But we played there as part of a promotional annual event with the Primary Club, that great charity which does so many good deeds for people around the nation, of which Richie was—although you would call it a patron in most organisations—the Primary Club's twelfth man. We had our photo taken. It was a great day, I love that particular photo, and I love the way that Richie was the voice of our summer. We will miss him dearly.

I was so disappointed that, when the Prime Minister stood to give his eulogy, to move the condolence motion for Richie Benaud in question time the other day, it was 2.25 pm. What a shame it was, because it would have been so appropriate that he did not get up just three minutes earlier, at '2.22'! We will always remember that about Richie. We will always remember his coats. They say imitation is the highest form of flattery, and I think copying him, wearing wigs and off-beige, brown or ivory coats will continue as long as we play cricket in this great nation. Farewell, Richie Benaud: 'Marvellous innings, that.'