{"id":48598,"date":"2020-08-06T17:32:06","date_gmt":"2020-08-06T17:32:06","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/websitedesigns.com.au\/elankanew\/?p=48598"},"modified":"2021-12-21T08:20:31","modified_gmt":"2021-12-21T08:20:31","slug":"richard-austin-the-tragic-fall-from-west-indies-allrounder-to-shoeless-street-beggar-by-ashley-gray","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/websitedesigns.com.au\/elankanew\/richard-austin-the-tragic-fall-from-west-indies-allrounder-to-shoeless-street-beggar-by-ashley-gray\/","title":{"rendered":"Richard Austin: the tragic fall from West Indies allrounder to shoeless street beggar-by Ashley Gray"},"content":{"rendered":"

Richard Austin: the tragic fall from West Indies allrounder to shoeless street beggar-by Ashley Gray<\/span><\/h1>\n

In an extract from his new book, Ashley Gray charts the downward spiral of a once-talented cricketer<\/span><\/p>\n

\"Richard<\/p>\n

Richard Austin and Alvin Greenidge of the rebel West Indies XI during an ODI against South Africa in Cape Town in 1983. Photograph: Adrian Murrell\/Getty Images<\/span><\/p>\n

Source:<\/span>Theguardian<\/a><\/span><\/p>\n

O<\/span><\/span>n 14 March, 2015, the pews of the byzantine-revival Holy Trinity Church were stuffed with the heavyweights of Jamaican cricket and society: ex-Test players, administrators and ministers of government. The man they had come to pay tribute to, Richard Austin, had, in death at least, been forgiven the sins of life.<\/span><\/p>\n

But as one eloquent speaker after another recalled Austin\u2019s tragic fall from West Indies allrounder to shoeless street beggar, it became apparent that many of those well-dressed orators were seeking their own kind of salvation. Forgiveness for the way Austin, whose primary sin was playing cricket in apartheid South Africa, had been treated by his countrymen. It was a reminder, the presiding priest said, that \u201cwe are all mere sinners, here to help each other in love to make it home to God\u201d.<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

In many ways the phases of Austin\u2019s life hold a mirror to Jamaica\u2019s own expedient moral consciousness. As a young, elite-level sportsman from the ghetto area of Jones Town, he was feted for transcending a poor background, a rare example of social mobility in a nation dogged by the remnants of slavery; as a former Test cricketer he was shunned and scorned for visiting a country that practised a modern form of slavery; and finally, as a middle-aged vagrant, he was tolerated and humoured, the target of both earnest sympathy and benign neglect.<\/span><\/p>\n

Years earlier, in 2003, sitting in a gutter next to Tastees, a pastry chain restaurant in the commercial district of Kingston known as Crossroads, Austin, then 48, began to tell me his story. Wiry and weather-beaten, eyes bloodshot with the effects of rum and cocaine, his conversation veered between the tragic and comic as he first asked me to call his \u201cgood friend\u201d Kerry Packer. \u201cI can come to Australia and play for Sydney or NSW,\u201d he rasped, while politely refusing a swig of rum from one of the gang of drifters he was running with. \u201cKerry Packer to me was like a gift in the cap.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Then he addressed his cocaine habit. \u201cWhen you live on the street you live with street people. If you want to party then sometimes I have to do it [cocaine].\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

The truth was he didn\u2019t have to flounder on the streets. He part-owned a house and car in the uptown suburb of Mona, which was looked after by his brother Oliver. It was as if the gutter, where no man dare judge another, was the only place he felt at home.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\"Richard<\/p>\n

Richard Austin in the Kingston commercial district of Cross Roads in 2003. Photograph: A Gray\/R McCormick<\/span><\/p>\n

He acknowledged old Jamaican cricket friends had tried to help him but he complained that the money he got from coaching jobs was barely enough to cover his laundry expenses.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI hope you can get through to Kerry Packer and World Series\u00a0Cricket<\/a>\u00a0and see if you can do something for me,\u201d he cried, as he disappeared into the night, clutching the 2,000 Jamaican dollars his friends had wrangled out of me as payment for chatting.<\/span><\/p>\n

It was the kind of delusional conversation Austin would have time and time again in his final years as a disjointed life meandered to its inevitable conclusion. Yet despite growing up at a time when deadly violence between warring political tribes was rife in Kingston, there was outwardly at least, little to suggest of the turmoil that would plague Austin in later life.<\/span><\/p>\n

A top-level table tennis player in his teens, and promising footballer with first division club Arnett Gardens, Jeff Dujon, his former Jamaica teammate still regards Austin as \u201cprobably all-round the most talented cricketer I played against\u201d. He could bat as opener or in the middle order, bowl offspin and seam, and keep wickets to a standard some said was almost the equal of Dujon. In his pomp, enthusiasts labelled him a potential \u201cright-handed Gary Sobers\u201d, critics a \u201cWoolworths Gary Sobers\u201d.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

But he would only play two Tests, both in 1978, dropped along with Desmond Haynes for signing with Kerry Packer\u2019s World Series Cricket troupe. An irresistible offer in the region of $20,000 for two years was that \u201cgift in the cap\u201d Austin would reminisce about when his life had spiralled out of control.<\/span><\/p>\n

The boy from Jones Town had hit pay dirt. But Austin was inexperienced with handling large sums of money and it showed. Flush with Packer dollars, patrons at nightclubs such as Skateland and Epiphany in New Kingston became the beneficiaries of Austin\u2019s rampant generosity. \u201cHe\u2019d see people he knew and ask what are you drinking; you\u2019d say a beer and he would bring you a whole case of beer. He would shout the whole bar,\u201d Dujon says<\/span><\/p>\n

Jamaican software consultant Patrick Terrelonge had been instrumental in convincing Kerry Packer to bring World Series Cricket to the West Indies. He was also in charge of paying the players. When the money was sent back to the Caribbean he looked after the disbursements. Most of them had their money sent to sports marketer IMG where it was invested. Not Austin.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI remember Austin coming into my office and asking me if his money had come in,\u2019\u201d Terrelonge says. \u201cThis particular tranche was for US$16,000. I said, \u2018would you like to put it in the bank or send it to IMG?\u2019<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHe said to me: \u2018Mr Terrelonge, how much does a BMW cost?\u2019 I said, I think about $8000. He said: \u2018Send the money down to the BMW dealer.\u2019 I said: \u2018Are you sure that\u2019s what you want to do?\u2019 He said yes. What would you like to do with the other $8000? He said: I\u2019ll buy two then. I tried to dissuade him but he eventually did it.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Austin developed a reputation as an entertaining and friendly combatant Down Under. \u201cHe was different; I got on well with him, but he lived for the moment,\u201d says former Australian captain Greg Chappell. \u201cHe was more laidback than the most laid-back West Indian. You could say he was Joe Cool before it had even been invented.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

But his chilled demeanour could be explained in part by excessive marijuana use, which manifested itself in a slack approach to training. When news of a rebel West Indies cricket tour of apartheid South Africa swept the Caribbean in late 1982, he was no longer a serious contender for a position in Clive Lloyd\u2019s world-beating side. He was also an easy target. A cheque to the value of US$100,000 was 75 times what an average Jamaican could expect to earn in a year. For a man with a hedonistic lifestyle to finance, it was a no-brainer.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Austin\u2019s wife, Molly Biggenot-Austin, was introduced to him at a Kingston night club in 1980. They quickly fell in love. \u201cRichard was awesome. He was always smiling and having fun,\u201d she says. \u201cThat\u2019s what drew me to him.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

But she was adamant he should reject the South African Cricket Union\u2019s advances. \u201cI told him he wasn\u2019t to go,\u201d says Austin-Biggenot. \u201cHim say: \u2018But I want to make a better family life.\u2019 And I said, \u2018No, I don\u2019t need you to make a better family life. I can do with whatever you are getting from coaching with the Institute of Sport,\u2019 plus I worked at a bank. But the money was too sweet. I don\u2019t say I don\u2019t like money, but I\u2019m not going to sell my soul for money and that\u2019s what he did.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

She wasn\u2019t the only one urging him not to go. The hostility from the political and media class was summed up by the Minister Of Youth and Community Service, Errol Anderson: \u201cLet me go on the record as hoping those Jamaicans who put their feet on South African soil and compete in sports there, will never be allowed to enjoy their \u2018blood money\u2019 in Jamaica.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

His words would prove prophetic. Austin compiled a patient 93 in one of the so-called Test matches against the Springboks, but it was his only performance of note on the 12-match tour.<\/span><\/p>\n

Back home in Jamaica, the subject of the rebel tours continued to stir emotions. Unlike World Series Cricket, which had media support and was portrayed as a just battle against a backward-looking establishment, the rebels were viewed in newspaper reports as soulless mercenaries aiding the cause of apartheid.<\/span><\/p>\n

Apart from a lifelong Test cricket ban, Austin was also shut out of the Senior Cup and stripped of his job as a coach with the Institute of Sport. He had buckets of money, but nothing to do. With unemployment running at 26.4%, and the brand damage associated with employing a \u201cblood money\u201d cricketer, there were no businesses willing to stick their neck out to hire him. Without the lifeblood of cricket, his tendency towards self-destruction exploded.<\/span><\/p>\n

His wife copped the brunt of it. Their plan to buy a house together disintegrated \u2013 a casualty of Austin\u2019s new drug of choice: cocaine. \u201cHe took the money behind my back and invested it in coke. I think it was the rejection \u2013 he didn\u2019t know how to deal with that. He wanted something to dull the pain.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

During the day while Molly was at work, Austin would booze and ingest drugs with his old nightclub friends, often not returning until the early hours of the morning, stoned and drunk. When husband and wife did catch up, Austin was regularly consumed with jealousy. It was an emotion that could bring out an even uglier side.<\/span><\/p>\n

Former Jamaica batsman Mark Neita says his teammate was well-known for \u201cputting his hand on his better half\u201d. It reached absurd proportions during a Shell Shield match against Guyana when the police arrived at Sabina Park to arrest Austin for beating up his then girlfriend the night before.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWe had won the toss and Danny Germs [Austin\u2019s nickname] was opening the batting when the police came. So they said \u2018Look, the moment he gets out, we will take him away.\u2019 But he batted and batted because he knew the police were after him. He batted straight to lunch, and he batted after lunch and made 118. Eventually the policeman left.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhen I asked him about it, Danny\u2019s explanation was that he thought she was cheating. There were a lot of moments like that.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Biggenot-Austin says his violent behaviour tore them apart. \u201cI remember one time our baby son Ricardo was sick and I had to carry him to the doctors. My girlfriend was going to take me but it was too late so I went back home. He knocked me out on the floor and I could not believe it. My hand was broken.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHe thought I was going out to look at men, but I had my son with me trying to get a drive to the hospital. He was jealous. That was what the coke was telling his mind to think… because he wasn\u2019t like that before.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

She left Austin in 1984.<\/span><\/p>\n

\"Richard<\/p>\n

Richard Austin (right) with fellow rebel Lawrence Rowe (left) and a friend at a party during the first rebel tour of South Africa in 1983. Photograph: Ray Wynter<\/span><\/p>\n

The one-time Jones Town hero was on a downward spiral. Jamaican society turned a blind eye to his suffering and the suffering he was causing others. In their eyes, he had brought racial shame to a proud people and the consequences were his and his alone to endure. \u201cAustin was totally ignored,\u201d former Jamaica captain Maurice Foster says. \u201cFrom celebrity status to nothing.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Clubs that once welcomed his patronage were now turning him away. Neita remembers the owner of an establishment where Austin had once shouted the bar champagne kicking him down the stairs, \u201cbecause at the time he had lost it, and nobody wanted to be associated with him anymore\u201d. It was not an isolated incident.<\/span><\/p>\n

Fast bowling great Michael Holding represented the views of a significant portion of the island when he said: \u201cThese men [the rebels] are worse than slaves. If they were offered enough money they would probably agree to wear chains.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Jamaica has an honourable history of fighting racial inequality. Its successful slave revolts lit the fuse of liberation across the Caribbean. Understandably, bitterness dies hard in a land where any hint of skin colour prejudice provokes justifiable outrage.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

But at times it seemed that the reaction to Austin\u2019s plight bordered on spiteful; he had reaped what he had sown and now he was living his comeuppance. It touched on a dark current in the Jamaican psyche: the notion of \u201cbad mind\u201d, a tendency to resent the success of others \u2013 \u201cdem nuh want see we prosper\u201d \u2013 the flipside of which was a peculiar pleasure in their demise.<\/span><\/p>\n

But as time wore on, the public spectre of Austin\u2019s ostracism, a troubled former Test cricketer living out his demons on the street in full view of the nation, began to elicit concern and even sympathy. Yet it would not be enough to halt his slide into destitution \u2013 and the shadows of cricket history.<\/span><\/p>\n