The little basin that could

OPINION: A puff of dust, that's all it was. It arrived without warning, though, billowing out from an unseemly scramble of feet, before being quickly dispersed by Wellington's southerly gale. It was February 1978 and Geoff Boycott, captain of England, had just been clean bowled. I can still see him now, straightening in horror, staring back down the pitch in disbelief. One eye already blackened by an earlier encounter with a Richard Hadlee bouncer, the other wide in shock.

Wind howling, air-raid siren wailing, fieldsmen whooping; a historic win to follow. I guess everyone has their favourite memory of the Basin Reserve. The biggest roundabout in the southern hemisphere, maybe, but it will this week join an elite list of cricket grounds throughout the world: those to have hosted 50 tests or more. That's right, when New Zealand begins the second test against Pakistan on Thursday, the Basin will cement its place as one of the game's most historic venues.

To put it in context, only England's five main grounds, Australia's four oldest arenas and Trinidad's Port of Spain have seen more test history. Perth's WACA Ground, Kolkata's Eden Gardens, Barbados' Bridgetown Oval all trail in the Basin's wake. Jamaica's Sabina Park doesn't make the cut; neither does Lahore's Gaddafi Stadium, or Karachi's National Stadium. For a little lagoon that was supposed to become a safe harbour for shipping, the Basin has come a long way.

As a community asset, there can hardly be a more important landmark in Wellington. The only sports ground on the country's national heritage list, it is also New Zealand cricket's field of dreams. Ghosts from the past still linger there. Australian Bill Brown played at the Basin in 1946. Leg-spinning team-mate Tiger O'Reilly took five wickets in the same test. Englishmen Len Hutton, Walter Hammond, Denis Compton and Colin Cowdrey graced the middle.

New Zealand cricket's finest export, Clarrie Grimmett, lived just down the road in Roxburgh St. As a teenager, he watched the 1905 Australian team (including Victor Trumper and Clem Hill) at the Basin, along with a 10,000-strong crowd. Even though New Zealand wouldn't be granted test status until 1930, the stars continued to arrive. Archie MacLaren, Charlie Macartney, Bill Ponsford. Vic Richardson, Bill Woodfull, Bert Oldfield.

Never mind the New Zealand contingent: Stewie Dempster and Jack Mills, century-makers in the Basin's maiden test, against England in 1930, Wellington's favourite son, JR Reid, who struck a world record 15 sixes while scoring 296 against Northern Districts; local firebrand Bob Blair. And more recently, Hadlee's consecutive 10-wicket bags against India and England, Martin Crowe's five centuries in 10 tests, John Wright's match-winning hundred against Australia.

The Basin's seminal moment? It arrived just after 9pm on January 23, 1855, in the form of a massive earthquake, estimated to have measured in the vicinity of 8.0 on today's Richter scale. By the time the aftershocks had ended the floor of the lagoon had risen to such an extent that there remained only a swamp, which was later drained and reclaimed by prison labour. Starved of recreational amenities, Wellingtonians successfully fought for its preservation as a public reserve.

It might be synonymous with cricket today, but the Basin was for many decades the hub of Wellington's leisure and recreational life. It hosted most of the city's important celebrations and anniversaries. Sir Baden-Powell addressed thousands there in 1931. The Caledonian Games were staged there. In 1957, the Harlem Globetrotters were in action there, as well as the Water Follies, a water ballet troupe including latter day synchronised swimmers.

Cycling, boxing, rugby league, soccer, baseball, hockey, wrestling, wood-chopping; you name it and the chances are that the good folk of Wellington gave it a crack at the Basin. They even staged a night soccer match at the ground in 1879, using a 16hp engine to provide electricity for two lights. It's said about 8000 turned up to watch what was a precursor to the "electric light" athletics meetings of the 1930s, and 40 years later, fully-fledged night soccer.

It must have fun to have been a child of the Basin. There were so many options. In the early days, the far eastern end of the ground was reserved for the kids, such was the scarcity of public parks. Later, after the war years, there were even jobs of offer. Scoreboard workers were paid 10 shillings a match which, given Wellington's reputation for high winds, was not unreasonable fare. Sight-screen attendants were lucky to escape with their lives.

But surely the best task at the Basin would have been assisting post-war commentators, Trevor Rigby and Lance Cross, in the bowels of the old stand, as the pair translated elaborately coded telegrams from abroad to recreate the commentary from overseas for New Zealand listeners. The need to simulate the sound of bat on ball, scattered applause for boundaries and choked-off appeals from bowlers, must have made for one of the funniest jobs in the game.

For all its success, however, it seems the Basin has constantly been on the city's endangered species list. Apart from a string of ownership and guardianship controversies in its more formative years, moves were still afoot to flog it off or chop it up in the 1960s, '70s and as recently as the 1990s. Even today, though now protected by an Act of Parliament, a proposal to build a massive flyover above the RA Vance Stand end of the ground continues to divide opinion.

Whatever happens there, it's timely this week to salute Wellingtonians for having the forethought to make the Basin what it is today. Windy and noisy; call it what you want. But it's still the best little cricket ground in the world.

- © Fairfax NZ News