Brian Charles Lara shuffles slightly to off as Shane Warne’s offering turns to leg, past Ian Healy and rolls its way to fine leg.
“Has he got bat on it? That is the question,” Ian Chappell wonders in commentary.
“When he’s got about five metres from the crease, he’s started waving his bat to the West Indies crowd. Not only a very fine batsman, but also a very smart one.”
With his first double-century in the offing and a legitimate question as to whether his attempted leg glance had connected, Lara wasn’t giving umpire Terry Prue any chance.
For Warne and Allan Border’s increasingly bedraggled fielders, the sight of Lara, arms aloft, undefeated with triple figures to his name, would become an all-too-familiar sight for more than a decade afterwards.
The 277 Lara scored in that innings at the SCG remains one of the best performances Test cricket has encountered.
For Lara, and to a far lesser extent, Chappell, this was the penny dropping from almost a year earlier.
Already answering to “the Prince of Trinidad” throughout Port-of-Spain’s nightspots, Lara’s reputation and limitless potential preceded him before he arrived on Australian shores.
Leading into a 1992 World Cup where fancied West Indian and Australian outfits outdid themselves in underperforming, Windies coach Deryck Murray asked Chappell to have a word with his star pupil.
A bemused Chappell has long regarded cricket coaches alongside telemarketers and parking inspectors, and he has often recounted telling Murray he had little advice he could offer a talent such as Lara anyway.
In any case, the pair did talk, Chappell advising Lara that; “the only thing I’ll say is you hit a lot of good shots. But you hit them straight to fielders. You’ve got to hit them into gaps. Otherwise, you’re wasting a lot of energy. Plus, more importantly, you’re wasting a lot of runs.”
Lara helped himself to nine ODI fifties in the months after meeting with Chappell, then two more in the Test arena when the West Indies returned to tour Australia again.
A dodgy stumping by Healy at the Gabba – replays showed the Australian ’keeper had broken the stumps without ball in hand – amounted to animosity and frustration for Lara, before Shane Warne’s first genuine masterclass in Melbourne made for a 1-0 Windies deficit.
At 2-31, chasing Australia’s first innings 9/503, on an SCG wicket that had offered rare respite for the home side amid more than a decade of West Indian dominance, Lara strode to the crease.
Thought had turned to the previously unthinkable – a series loss for the champion Caribbean side.
And alongside a resolute 109 by under-siege skipper Richie Richardson, Lara turned the Test and series on its head with his brilliant 277.
“I’d never seen a guy hit the gap so easily,” Border told News Corp recently.
“I got to a point where I would talk to the fielders and say, ‘Wherever I put you it’s your choice whether you move five yards left or right’. They’d subtly move and Brian being Brian just kept whacking it through the gaps.”
Thirty-eight boundaries in all Lara carved, caressed, blazed and belted, Australia’s fielders and bowlers hapless alike.
Milestones seemed to fall every other over as Lara ploughed on, with a leg glance off Warne raising his first Test hundred, then another from the legspinner bringing up 200.
Only a needless run-out by batting partner Carl Hooper brought an end to Lara’s dominance, a theme that would endure in several threads throughout his career.
Whenever things seemed most forlorn for the Windies on Lara’s watch – most notably during his 1999 Test heroics – he took on the Australians with relish. And when runs were on offer – see the world record Test and first class scores still to his name – Lara took them.
Lara’s 277 is famously regarded as his favourite innings, so much so he named his first daughter Sydney.
All in all, “a very smart cricketer”.