Ambrose swept England in Trinidad in 1994. Photo: AllSport/Ben Radford
Sir Curtley Ambrose remembers the icy glares from his teammates. . On the fourth day of the English Tests in Trinidad & At Tobago in 1994, Ambrose played clean with a wild shot.
“I said, 'God, I've ruined everything – I need to pull something magical out of the bag,'” Ambrose recalls. “I was very excited.”
Now 60, he smiles and chats affably – a far cry from his playing days, when he said, “Don't talk to anyone.” And yet, with his lean but muscular frame and 6ft 8in frame, it is immediately obvious why Ambrose has produced some of the most lethal spells in Test cricket history.
At Queen's Park Oval almost 30 years ago England began chasing 194 tries to win; There are 15 overs left on the fourth day. For Ambrose, his personal disappointment, coupled with the knowledge that he would only have one spell and a match in the balance that evening, was the prelude to a spell of horrific destruction.
“If you want to drive a car, buy a car,” was Ambrose’s favorite mantra. But in Trinidad, on a pitch that now has a low bounce, Ambrose increased his length a bit. His very first ball rolled back and hit Michael Atherton's front pad at stump level. Ambrose's arms danced in anticipation. As Steve Bucknor raised his finger, Ambrose waved his arms and signature white bracelets in jubilation.
“When you have a wicket, suddenly you can throw the ball a yard or two faster because it really energizes you. So I was really pumped. And it just fell into place perfectly.”
“When I'm in the zone, I feel invincible.”
It makes for an exhilarating cocktail: a bowler of great height hitting 90mph while using uneven bounce. , cheered on by the crowd at Queen's Park, is in full swing. Despite the ignominy of being bowled out for 46 (still England's lowest Test score since 1877), the result was a result of Ambrose's exceptional bowling skill rather than English ineptitude.
When Mark Ramprakash fell late on his debut, England's trepidation was palpable. “It opened the floodgates,” Ambrose recalls. “England panicked a bit.
“When I'm in a certain zone, I always feel invincible. That's how I feel at that moment. I couldn't do anything wrong. And I don't think any batter on the planet can beat me when I'm in this mood.”
In just an hour, Ambrose reduced the stumps of Robin Smith, Alec Stewart and Graham Thorpe to rubble. He departed with six wickets in 7.5 overs; England made 40 from eight balls and would be bowled out for 46 the next morning.
A year earlier, Ambrose had produced an even more devastating spell of seven off 32 balls in Perth. Once again the catalyst was disappointment: this time Ambrose's belief that he had wasted the new ball on the first morning at the Waka Stadium, where the series was tied 1-1 in the deciding Test.
Ambrose averaged 21.23 against Australia with a total of 128 wickets. Photo: Getty Images/Sean Botterill
“My first spell was a joke, really,” he reflects. “I bowled too short. I was bowling my usual length and the batters were abandoning them on this surface.”
At lunch, with Australia 59 for two, Ambrose did not eat anything. “I just sat there and said to myself, ‘You screwed up.’
As West Indies returned to the field, captain Richie Richardson asked Ambrose how he was feeling. “I said I’m ready to go. And I made adjustments by serving the ball a little fuller – not half the length of the volley, but a length where the batters looked like they could move.”
The difference, he believed, was less than a meter: enough to force batsmen on their back foot to fumble forward instead. “A lot of them were caught by the keeper and were slipping while trying to move because I had adjusted the length.
“That's what fast bowling is all about – the surface you bowl on and you make adjustments accordingly. And I did it, and it worked perfectly.
“Seven wickets in one run in a period is unheard of. This happens once in a lifetime, if ever, and against Australia, man!”
“Something will trigger me… and then I get upset”
These two great spells reflect how frustrated I am, either personal disappointment or opposition can force Ambrose to perform at his best.
“I'm most dangerous when I'm upset or my back is against the wall. Something just pisses me off. And then I get upset. And then I felt like I could hit the ball a couple of yards faster.
“Maybe the batsman will just walk around and look too cocky for my liking. I'll say: you know what, I'll take care of you. It could be anything that just triggers me.”
Perhaps no batsman felt this Ambrose tendency more than Steve Waugh. These two fierce and intense battles were kept apart throughout the 1990s as Australia captured the West Indies crown as the No. 1 seed in the Test game. In Trinidad in 1995, teammate Kenny Benjamin told Ambrose over lunch that Waugh had sworn at him.
Ambrose in full The run was one of the most destructive forces in the history of cricket. Photo: Getty Images/Patrick Eagar
Now Ambrose abandoned his usual principle: “I decided that 5½ ounces would be enough for me. I'm not saying anything.
“When we came back from the break, I served him the ball again. And someone said to me, “Ask him if he said that.” And I said to him, “Did you tell me such and such?” He didn't say yes, he didn't say no. He simply said, “I can say whatever I want.” For me, that was an affirmative.”
This was Test cricket at its most primitive. Ambrose's fury forced him to confront Waugh and Richardson had to pull him away.
“I wanted to hit him physically because I demanded more respect from him.” Tellingly, Ambrose channeled his anger into taking nine wickets for 65 runs in West Indies' victory. “We never talked about it.”
“I’m a freak by nature.”
Ambrose didn’t aspire to be a test player. As a child, his great love was basketball.
It was said that John Kennedy became president because his older brother could not fulfill the family dream. Ambrose also lived up to the hopes originally placed on someone else. His cricket-loving mother, who used to listen to Test matches on her transistor radio in Sweets, their village in Antigua, dreamed of her eldest son becoming a Test cricketer.
“My older brother played club cricket,” Ambrose recalls. “When he emigrated to the United States to join my father, I was naturally next in line.”
In his late teens, Ambrose had such a growth spurt that some classmates didn’t recognize him when saw him playing on TV. At the age of 20, Ambrose began playing club cricket for the Sweets. For four years, after just six first-class games, he played for the West Indies.
And that's why Ambrose didn't need the 10,000 hours of training that are said to be necessary to achieve greatness—at least. , a largely debunked theory.
Ambrose tormented the English batsmen, taking 164 wickets at just 18.8. Photo: AP/Max Nash
“It was natural for me,” he reflects. “According to Desmond Haynes, I am a natural freak.”
Initially, Ambrose relied on the classic fast bowler combination of following a bouncer with a yorker. In Test cricket, he quickly realized, this was not enough.
“I have developed a short delivery in which the batters are not sure whether they will go forward or backward – an 'in-between' ' length. The guys couldn't go any further. They had to look to play.
“I was never a swing bowler. I relied on hitting the pitch and making the ball go wide, or bounce back, or go straight.”
Some great fast bowlers see hitting boundaries as an inevitable cost of doing business. For Ambrose, every try he scored felt more like a personal insult. No one who has taken more than 405 Test wickets, not even Glenn McGrath, has been so frugal.
“I'm a very proud man. I want to be the best in everything I do.
“I hate giving away runs. I have to work hard to take wickets, so I'm not going to make it easy for you as a batter.” As a whole generation of Test batsmen can attest, Ambrose never did.
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