No ordinary man

He doesn't talk much and his memory has all but gone but 99-year-old Eric Tindill is still inspiring. And his story is one of the most fascinating in international sport, as Daryl Holden discovered.

It didn't take long before the likeable old bugger made me laugh.

His piercing blue eyes twinkled. His bony and weathered hands, which had been clasped together in fingerless gloves, quickly unlocked and moved in a gesturing motion.

I'd just asked Eric Tindill if he remembered playing against Australian cricket legend Don Bradman. "No. Not at all," Tindill said, sadly displaying the vacant look of someone whose memory has been ravaged by the passing of time.

But then he slowly edged forward on his fading armchair in his Wellington home. He looked at me and smiled.

Suddenly it looked like a light bulb had been switched on.

"Was he any good at cricket, this Bradman?" Tindill replied, in his slightly broken speech, before a big grin was followed by an even bigger, infectious laugh.

Now, was Eric Tindill, just shy of his 99th birthday, having a flashback from a memory that is all but shot? Or was the cheeky reply just a coincidence from a frail old man, who says very little these days and whose best years are behind him?

It didn't matter. It was a priceless moment in the company of one of the most remarkable figures in sport because that's what Eric William Thomas Tindill is, even though many New Zealanders have probably never heard of him.

That his feats are not at the forefront of our national sporting conscience says something about the quiet life the modest man nicknamed "Snowy" has lived.

But it's also kind of sad because the former auditor and sportsman extraordinaire has a story worth telling and remembering.

Because Tindill has a legacy and life that will never be matched, from dismissing Bradman at Adelaide Oval, to matching up to a try-scoring Russian prince at Twickenham and battling adversity along the way by living through the Great Depression and fighting in World War II.

He's one of seven double All Blacks but the only genuine member of that exclusive club because he played both rugby and cricket tests for New Zealand.

Even more incredibly, and without parallel, he matched the feat in an officiating role. He became a test cricket umpire and test rugby referee, who was good enough to control British Lions-All Black matches.

He was also a national cricket selector, a long-time New Zealand boxing administrator, a Wellington table tennis champion, a Wellington soccer representative and he even co-wrote a top-selling book.

Late New Zealand cricket identity Walter Hadlee once called Tindill "New Zealand sport's greatest all-rounder", and he quite clearly was.

And now, as time marches by, more records keep coming his way.

He's the world's oldest surviving test cricketer and he's our oldest All Black, who's slowly closing in on the world's oldest test rugby player mantle. That lies with Scotland's Mac Henderson, who was 101 when he died last year.

"Oh, you've got a long way before you get that record though, don't you Dad?" pipes up daughter, Molly Tindill, who lives with her father.

"Dad's pretty good really," she continues, placing down a plate of homemade scones.

"He doesn't wear glasses and I take him out when I can, mostly to get see some sunshine.

"But we don't get to the Basin Reserve now, or to Westpac Stadium for rugby.

"It's just too dangerous because he could easily fall.

"So we mostly stay at home."

And it's a quaint, red-brick 1930s home, with splendid views over Lyall Bay and the neighbouring Wellington Airport. Inside, all seems normal until you look closely around the comfortable lounge.

On one wall hangs an old photo of the New Zealand cricket from the 1930s. Opposite there's another of Tindill in the 1936 All Blacks.

"Those two photos were always there when I was growing up," Molly recalls.

"But everything else was just packed way."

And that includes his famous woollen black jersey from his only All Black test against England in 1936 in an international rugby career that was cut short by the war.

"Here it is," Molly says, having shot away to hunt out that prized jersey, which remains in remarkably good condition.

It'd been tucked away in a supermarket bag, of all things, tossed in a cupboard in the spare room.

"Do you remember wearing this Dad?" she asks, holding the black jumper up to her father, who was a halfback and first five-eighth, with a penchant for kicking drop goals. "No. I don't," he said.

It's a shame he doesn't remember because he would have loved recalling his part in the test at Twickenham, which will forever be remembered as "Obloensky's match".

Prince Alexander Obloensky, who had moved to England after the Russian Revolution, scored two tries to seal England's first victory over New Zealand.

Tindill had the last laugh though, somehow pocketing the match ball, which he later used to kick around his back lawn and up at Melrose Park with his kids.

And it wouldn't be a surprise if a memento from that cricket encounter with Bradman in 1937 was somewhere in the house.

Why?

Well, Tindill, a tidy wicketkeeper and left-hand batsman, who played five tests for New Zealand between 1936 and 1947, had the distinction of catching the incomparable Bradman off Jack Cowie's fast bowling.

It was the only match the "Don" played against a New Zealand team and Tindill's catch was even more significant because it resulted in thousands of queued-up fans outside the ground turning around and leaving.

They wanted to see Bradman in full flight before Tindill sent him packing in the opening over on that Saturday morning.

"Dad used to joke about that," Molly explained.

"He used to say that he expected the South Australian Cricket Association to send him the bill for lost gate takings that day."

So there's no doubting Tindill's sense of humour or his devotion to sport, which was never more obvious than on his wedding day in March, 1937.

He got married in the morning, before rushing to the Basin Reserve to bat in the last innings of the cricket test against the English MCC side.

Then, that evening, he was on a ship heading to England for a mammoth 37-game tour with the rest of the New Zealand cricket team.

Molly smiles when the wedding day's brought up and she smiles again when you suggest her father stands supreme among sporting greats all over the planet.

She is, of course, immensely proud but to her and the family there was never any fanfare about his achievements. His life and home seem defined by simplicity and you get the feeling that's the way they like it.

"Way back when he played it (being a New Zealand sports star) was a lot more low-key than things are now," she explained. "He wasn't a famous double All Black or anything like that to us.

"I don't remember that anyway.

"He was just Dad and he used to encourage us to play sport and to enjoy it. Really, to us he was just an ordinary person."

An ordinary person?

No way.

Not Eric Tindill, a unique and most special sporting great, who hopefully more New Zealanders will come to appreciate.

And if you get the chance, just mention Don Bradman to him to find out for yourself.

ERIC TINDILL FAST FACTS

• Age: 99
• He's the only genuine double All Black because he played cricket and rugby tests for New Zealand.
• He matched that feat in officiating, becoming a test rugby referee and international cricket umpire.
• He's the oldest surviving test cricketer in the world and the second oldest rugby international.
• He played 17 games and one test for the All Blacks between 1935 and 1938 before World War II derailed the halfback and first five-eighth's rugby career.
• He played 29 matches as a wicketkeeper-batsman for the New Zealand cricket team, including five tests, between 1936 and 1947.
• In the space of 27 months, from August 1935 until November 1937, he played internationally for New Zealand in rugby and cricket for 15 months, which included six months travelling by ship on the high seas.

- © Fairfax NZ News