Dialogue: Bradman not one to miss a chance to make money

As Australia's favourite son, Sir Donald Bradman has been beyond criticism. But some of his deeds hardly warranted acclaim, writes SIR TERRY McLEAN.

It is good to know that the hagiographers who painted the immortal cricketer Sir Donald Bradman as saintlier than the most revered of Christendom's saints have been forced onto the back foot by revelations of an Adelaide scandal in 1945 which permitted Bradman to take over the assets of a sharebroking firm's chief within 48 hours of its head being declared bankrupt.

Writing in the Australian - the article was reported in the Weekend Herald - David Nason disclosed that not long after alarm bells rang in the house of H.W. Hodgetts and Co, one of the leading stockbroking firms in Adelaide, Bradman, in several secret meetings with the official receiver, was permitted to take control of the company and its 4000 clients.

The story has been vehemently denied by members of the Bradman family and presumably will be put aside until the publication of a disinterested biography. But it is fact that several incidents in Bradman's cricketing career caused him to be regarded with distaste by men who, in the playing of the game, were among his closest associates.

At the end of his first triumphal tour of England in 1930, during which in the test series he had innings of 334 and 254, Bradman received a gift of £1000 (a substantial sum in those days) from an English enthusiast delighted with his masterful batting.

Although cricket is forever a team game, Bradman made no attempt to treat members of the team to a banquet or some such.

During the Adelaide test of the notorious Bodyline series of 1932-33, Bert Oldfield, the Australian wicketkeeper, suffered a fractured skull from a short-pitched rising ball bowled by Harold Larwood. Spectators were almost crazed in their rage.

Bill Woodfull, the Australian captain, had also been struck so violent a blow that he had retired to the dressing room to recuperate.

He had just emerged from a shower, with a towel around his waist, when the manager of the England team, Plum Warner, entered the room. "I have come to say how sorry I am and to offer my sympathy," Warner said.

Woodfull's reply was chilling. "I don't want to see you, Mr Warner," he said. "There are two sides out there. One is trying to play cricket, the other is not. The game is too good to be spoiled. It is time some people got out of it."

When a day later the story of the encounter broke, reactions were violent. Blame for the disclosure was laid upon the Australian opening bat Jack Fingleton, a great opener, a wonderful fielder, and just then in the early stages of a career in journalism which would turn him into one of the foremost writers the game has known.

But it was Fingleton who by acute sleuthing discovered the truth of the dressing room "break".

Bradman at the time was attached to the staff of the Sydney Sun, more for his byline than for his newsman's skills. On the night of the savage Woodfull retort, The Don met the sports editor of the Sun, Claude Corbett, and told him the story.

Corbett, good newspaperman that he was, decided that the story was too big for him alone. At the Oval the next morning he told the entire press corps - a tiny band compared with the armies of today - of the Woodfull rebuff.

When, a year or two later, the Australian XI again toured England, Fingleton was passed over. He got revenge when the Australians later toured South Africa, topping the averages and playing a vital role in the tour.

After his last tour of England in 1948, Bradman was a natural choice for election to the close-knit Australian Board of Control.

Surprise, surprise. When the Australian XI to tour England was in the offing, he was offered a substantial retainer by a London daily newspaper to report the tour.

He resigned from the board.

Four years later, another visit to Britain was in the planning stage when Bradman received another lucrative offer. By now, he was chairman of both the ABC and the selection committee. A second London daily sounded him out. "Not for twice the amount I am to earn," Bradman austerely replied, "would I write for your group."

Having resigned the board and selection posts, he made the tour, returned home and was reinstated to these senior positions.

Fingleton had but one word for The Don's remarkable pursuits of high financial reward.

"It wasn't ethical," he said, "of the little man."