Man for different seasons proves a man with sure purpose
April 28, 2007
THE day Tom Moody retired as a player he was asked about a possible switch to the coaching ranks. It was the easiest question he got all day. "No," he replied without equivocation. "That is a tack I won't be taking."
Moody, the former West Australian all-rounder who played eight Tests and 41 one-dayers, moved into a property development job at Multiplex after his retirement six years ago and was happy to let cricket life fade into the sunset. Suggesting to him then he would one day coach Sri Lanka in a World Cup final against Australia would have been as absurd as predicting he would be the first cricketer to land on Pluto.
"When you retire as a player you have had enough," Moody said yesterday. "I had mentally switched off from the game. The thought of coaching was the last thing on my mind.
"It was time for me to move on and be challenged somewhere else. A year later got a call from Middlesex and the adrenalin got going. Worcester rang me soon after and I agreed to join them and haven't looked back. I had my hunger and passion back."
Tonight Moody could become a cricketing oddity, the first man to win World Cups for two nations, as a player for Australia in 1987 and '99 and as coach of Sri Lanka.
Although he will not confirm it, Moody is expected to announce soon after the cup he will return to his native Perth and coach the Western Warriors in next season's Pura Cup, for the whisper is he is tiring of life on the road.
While Moody did not initially see himself as a coach, others did because of his shrewd, sensible and inquisitive nature. He is a natural leader. Australian players who played in the 1999 World Cup still believe he made one of pivotal calls of the tournament by quietly persuading captain Steve Waugh to drop an alcohol ban that caused deep divisions within the team.
What initially sounded like a good idea to make players focus on their cricket after a faltering start soon turned sour. While other players were whispering in protest behind cupped hands, Moody, hearing the dissent, subtly approached Waugh and suggested he let players have a few social drinks, particularly over dinner.
The captain relented and almost from that point the campaign turned around.
Coaching Sri Lanka has flushed out all sorts of emotions in Moody; patience to cope with a complex political environment, the loneliness of long periods away from wife Helen and two children who go to school in England, and admiration for players who have risen from humble, uncoached environments to stare down some of the game's toughest rivals.
As the son of a private school headmaster in Perth, Moody was well-educated and wanted for little in life. He clearly appreciates players who have had less comfortable rides.
A favourite is Sri Lanka opening batsman Upul Tharanga, who learned his cricket in the dusty back streets of Ambalangoda on the island's west coast. His family lost their home and all their possessions in the 2005 tsunami, yet somehow Tharanga has ploughed through the setback to score six international centuries, aged just 22.
"He hasn't had it easy ... there are no state-of-the-art bowling machines where he learnt his cricket," Moody said.
"He came into the side 18 months ago from nowhere. He had a couple of technical things, in that he got into poor position for balls outside off-stump. He was vulnerable but in between that vulnerability there was some pretty special shots. We knew there was a special talent there.
"The Sri Lankans are quick learners and are unspoilt. They have not had a lot of coaching and are self-made in that they have watched their peers and go out and play in the park on on the beach or in the village. That's how they adapt their skills."
When Moody decided to devote two years to winning the World Cup with Sri Lanka, he promised himself there would be no half measures.
In January he made a private scouting mission to the Caribbean, preparing a mental dossier on everything from wickets, to dressing rooms, hotels and transport.
It is always difficult to quantify what imprint a coach leaves on a side but Moody's is more tangible because he has achieved one priceless plus: he has toughened up the side away from home.
He looked at figures that noted how the great Muttiah Muralidaran was bowling an obscenely high percentage of overs at home on almost unnaturally square-turning decks and decided Sri Lanka was living in an artificial paradise at home that would never translate to success abroad.
So fast bowlers were toughened up mentally and physically, the pressure was taken off Muralidaran and the team drew offshore Test series with England and New Zealand. The temptation was to try to rush the changes through but Moody felt this would not have been the Sri Lankan way.
"Australians are quite unique in that they are forever the optimists. They go for it and, if they fall over, they will then think about it and say maybe they should not have gone too hard. The Sri Lankans are more of a thinking group. They will think about it, analyse it and then go for it," Moody said.
"Australians like the go-for-broke philosophy but you would fall over yourself if you tried that with Sri Lanka because it is not the way they are."
Team insiders say Moody has worked because he has been sensitive enough to realise the different needs of each man. Muralidaran may be a self-made star but Moody challenges him with ideas about bowling angles and field placements because he is a thinking cricketer and insatiable chatterbox about the game who likes to be stimulated.
Lasith Malinga, the fast bowler with the magical round-arm slinging action, looks like a man you could throw the text book at but Moody deliberately will not touch him because he feels to tinker with his gifts could destroy him.
Moody's stint has given him affection for the team and its country although he feels that driving in Colombo could make him a menace to society when he leaves Sri Lanka.
"Whenever I do finish up I will seriously have to pull the reins in as a driver. If you don't go with the flow of the traffic -- chaotic is not a strong enough word, it is absolutely crazy -- you end up in an accident or going nowhere," Moody said. "You have to drive in a reckless, irresponsible way. It is the only way you get from A to B.
"There is no such thing as road rage because everyone is prepared to break the rules."
Moody came along at a good time for Sri Lanka and now has the mature professional Mahela Jayawardene blossoming as a captain.
A few years ago, another West Australian, Bruce Yardley, was coaching Sri Lanka when Arjuna Ranatunga was captain and he had to deal with the skipper having a jumbo-sized feed for lunch then curling up in the dressing room corner and having a sleep when he was supposed to be fielding.
There will be none of that under Moody. The side is well drilled and professional.
"We don't feel it is a fluke we are in the final. We have worked hard for this," Moody said before promising his team will look its rivals in the eye and give Australia the challenge it has lacked all tournament.
Australia beware.
April 28, 2007
THE day Tom Moody retired as a player he was asked about a possible switch to the coaching ranks. It was the easiest question he got all day. "No," he replied without equivocation. "That is a tack I won't be taking."
Moody, the former West Australian all-rounder who played eight Tests and 41 one-dayers, moved into a property development job at Multiplex after his retirement six years ago and was happy to let cricket life fade into the sunset. Suggesting to him then he would one day coach Sri Lanka in a World Cup final against Australia would have been as absurd as predicting he would be the first cricketer to land on Pluto.
"When you retire as a player you have had enough," Moody said yesterday. "I had mentally switched off from the game. The thought of coaching was the last thing on my mind.
"It was time for me to move on and be challenged somewhere else. A year later got a call from Middlesex and the adrenalin got going. Worcester rang me soon after and I agreed to join them and haven't looked back. I had my hunger and passion back."
Tonight Moody could become a cricketing oddity, the first man to win World Cups for two nations, as a player for Australia in 1987 and '99 and as coach of Sri Lanka.
Although he will not confirm it, Moody is expected to announce soon after the cup he will return to his native Perth and coach the Western Warriors in next season's Pura Cup, for the whisper is he is tiring of life on the road.
While Moody did not initially see himself as a coach, others did because of his shrewd, sensible and inquisitive nature. He is a natural leader. Australian players who played in the 1999 World Cup still believe he made one of pivotal calls of the tournament by quietly persuading captain Steve Waugh to drop an alcohol ban that caused deep divisions within the team.
What initially sounded like a good idea to make players focus on their cricket after a faltering start soon turned sour. While other players were whispering in protest behind cupped hands, Moody, hearing the dissent, subtly approached Waugh and suggested he let players have a few social drinks, particularly over dinner.
The captain relented and almost from that point the campaign turned around.
Coaching Sri Lanka has flushed out all sorts of emotions in Moody; patience to cope with a complex political environment, the loneliness of long periods away from wife Helen and two children who go to school in England, and admiration for players who have risen from humble, uncoached environments to stare down some of the game's toughest rivals.
As the son of a private school headmaster in Perth, Moody was well-educated and wanted for little in life. He clearly appreciates players who have had less comfortable rides.
A favourite is Sri Lanka opening batsman Upul Tharanga, who learned his cricket in the dusty back streets of Ambalangoda on the island's west coast. His family lost their home and all their possessions in the 2005 tsunami, yet somehow Tharanga has ploughed through the setback to score six international centuries, aged just 22.
"He hasn't had it easy ... there are no state-of-the-art bowling machines where he learnt his cricket," Moody said.
"He came into the side 18 months ago from nowhere. He had a couple of technical things, in that he got into poor position for balls outside off-stump. He was vulnerable but in between that vulnerability there was some pretty special shots. We knew there was a special talent there.
"The Sri Lankans are quick learners and are unspoilt. They have not had a lot of coaching and are self-made in that they have watched their peers and go out and play in the park on on the beach or in the village. That's how they adapt their skills."
When Moody decided to devote two years to winning the World Cup with Sri Lanka, he promised himself there would be no half measures.
In January he made a private scouting mission to the Caribbean, preparing a mental dossier on everything from wickets, to dressing rooms, hotels and transport.
It is always difficult to quantify what imprint a coach leaves on a side but Moody's is more tangible because he has achieved one priceless plus: he has toughened up the side away from home.
He looked at figures that noted how the great Muttiah Muralidaran was bowling an obscenely high percentage of overs at home on almost unnaturally square-turning decks and decided Sri Lanka was living in an artificial paradise at home that would never translate to success abroad.
So fast bowlers were toughened up mentally and physically, the pressure was taken off Muralidaran and the team drew offshore Test series with England and New Zealand. The temptation was to try to rush the changes through but Moody felt this would not have been the Sri Lankan way.
"Australians are quite unique in that they are forever the optimists. They go for it and, if they fall over, they will then think about it and say maybe they should not have gone too hard. The Sri Lankans are more of a thinking group. They will think about it, analyse it and then go for it," Moody said.
"Australians like the go-for-broke philosophy but you would fall over yourself if you tried that with Sri Lanka because it is not the way they are."
Team insiders say Moody has worked because he has been sensitive enough to realise the different needs of each man. Muralidaran may be a self-made star but Moody challenges him with ideas about bowling angles and field placements because he is a thinking cricketer and insatiable chatterbox about the game who likes to be stimulated.
Lasith Malinga, the fast bowler with the magical round-arm slinging action, looks like a man you could throw the text book at but Moody deliberately will not touch him because he feels to tinker with his gifts could destroy him.
Moody's stint has given him affection for the team and its country although he feels that driving in Colombo could make him a menace to society when he leaves Sri Lanka.
"Whenever I do finish up I will seriously have to pull the reins in as a driver. If you don't go with the flow of the traffic -- chaotic is not a strong enough word, it is absolutely crazy -- you end up in an accident or going nowhere," Moody said. "You have to drive in a reckless, irresponsible way. It is the only way you get from A to B.
"There is no such thing as road rage because everyone is prepared to break the rules."
Moody came along at a good time for Sri Lanka and now has the mature professional Mahela Jayawardene blossoming as a captain.
A few years ago, another West Australian, Bruce Yardley, was coaching Sri Lanka when Arjuna Ranatunga was captain and he had to deal with the skipper having a jumbo-sized feed for lunch then curling up in the dressing room corner and having a sleep when he was supposed to be fielding.
There will be none of that under Moody. The side is well drilled and professional.
"We don't feel it is a fluke we are in the final. We have worked hard for this," Moody said before promising his team will look its rivals in the eye and give Australia the challenge it has lacked all tournament.
Australia beware.
