Rodney Marsh - another hero leaves

The hardest thing to face in the years beyond our prime isn't the sore knees or aching back or a dissatisfaction with social trends. No, it’s losing mates and heroes.

Bacchus Marsh was the epitome of the change in the game in the 1970's - more so than the Chappell’s or Lillee or Thomo. He played it hard and without compromise but he also played it fair and straight. Remember his disagreement with Trevor Chappell's only memorable ball in international cricket?

He was so much more than a dependable set of gloves and the last line of attack between the top order and a tail that couldn't bat.

Twenty years later, it was his mould than Adam Gilchrist was poured from.

Marshy was sold short in 1981 when he should have captained Australia on what became an Ashes disaster. It’s hard to imagine Headingley with Marsh at the helm. His leadership role among a side which resented authority, was essential; his batting was at its best when he set out to dominate; his ability to flatter his fast bowlers into a feeding frenzy, unparalleled; but his core business was keeping. Simply the best gloveman standing back for Australia my sixty years watching the game has seen and if spinners had been valued and better in the 70’s, we might never draw the distinction of distance again.

Post career, his love of the game thrust him into the new role of leading the first intake of lads at what was then the Cricket Academy, coaching and selection roles and the very cutting edge of a flawed side - all with his trademark sincerity and honesty.

Another hero leaves. Another hole opens up in the sky. Another flame in the fire of who I am, flickers as if in farewell and then just stops.