Neil Wagner did not simply wake up one day and decide to hit the deck hard, to get the ball to rise awkwardly for the batter. The idea of adopting this warfare did not come to him in his bath. And he did not run naked through the streets of Dunedin, yelling ‘Eureka!’ For unlike Archimedes, Wagner lives in the 21st century.
Wagner’s success story has been built in sweat and toil and silence. His unflinching determination to play international cricket, to chisel out a place for himself in the national side, had kept him going.
He first broke into the playing XI in 2012 as a conventional swing bowler, a contrast from the Wagner of 2021. The transformation into an indefatigable workhorse who would keep coming at you all day without losing intensity and savagery started later. It was also a necessity, rather than a choice.
Wagner is never the headlining act. That privilege is shared by Trent Boult and Tim Southee. Wagner arrives only after the other two pacers conclude their opening act. His opening spell is often alone, not in tandem with Boult or Southee.
Not that Wagner needs someone to sustain pressure from the other end, for he is a psychedelic popsicle, often used to ward off the weariness, reset the tempo, and spike up the energy drained after dancing relentlessly to the upbeat tunes of Boult and Southee.
By the time he entered public consciousness, Boult and Southee, both three years younger than Wagner, had already cemented their spots as new-ball superstars. They complimented each other quite well, as they do now. Southee takes the ball away from the right-hander, and Boult brings it back into them. Wagner, while brilliant, did not really add another dimension to the attack.
Wagner comes from a sporting family. His father was an active sportsman, as were his two elder brothers. The eldest played cricket for the South African Army.
Wagner’s tryst with cricket began early. He toured with the South African Academy sides in his early 20s. He even sneaked into the national side twice as the twelfth man, but never quite made it in the playing XI.
Then, one day, Wagner decided to leave South Africa. Not because his blonde hair was turning white or the bones were getting brittle, for he was only 22. He shifted to New Zealand because he felt he was likelier to make it as an international cricketer there. The three-year wait for eligibility seemed worth it, for was he not waiting in South Africa anyway?
‘I’ve tried hard for years and just feel I didn’t get the chances. Cricket wasn’t about fun anymore,’ he said referring to the rigamarole of politics and bureaucracy in South Africa.
At the time of leaving South Africa, Wagner’s number read 89 wickets at an average of 18.29 – outstanding by any stretch of imagination. He might have got a break in a year or two. But a seemingly eternal wait of three years in New Zealand seemed more lucrative.
He sought advice from former Canterbury coach Dave Nosworthy before shifting base to Otago. In 2009, his first season with Otago, he was their leading wicket-taker. But his breakthrough season came in 2011 when he bagged 51 wickets at an astounding 18.15. It came at a good time, just a year before he would receive his citizenship for New Zealand.
But, wait a minute. He came Down Under in 2008, and as per his own admission, a wait of three years meant that by 2011 he should have been eligible for international cricket.
‘When I came over, I was told, three years. That was the word through New Zealand Cricket, through my agent and through Otago cricket. That was the time that was mentioned at the start, but the ICC are quite strict on these things and have their own policies,’ Wagner told the Otago Daily Times in 2010.
As per the ICC, the player has to reside in the adopted country for a minimum of 183 days over a four-year span to be eligible to play for that nation. So Wagner would not be available till 2012.
At 26, Wagner finally got a call from New Zealand, for their West Indies of 2012. He bowled 33 overs, gave away 112, and claimed just one wicket. Chris Gayle thwacked 12 off one of his overs, and then walked down just to utter ‘that’s 12 runs, mate.’
There could not have been a tougher introduction for a guy who had waited until 26 just to enter the international arena. Cricket, bloody hell! Wagner’s four wickets in the series came at 52.25.
The next year, he managed 35 wickets across 10 Test matches. Nine out of these matches came in venues historically known for aiding seamers. His only five-wicket haul came against Bangladesh. Still, Wagner struggled to pose consistent threats. In the next two years Wagner played six Tests.
While there never was a question on the effort he put in and the energy he brought on the ground, his inability to generate movement from the old ball stifled his progress. With Boult and Southee in the squad, there was no way Wagner was going to get the new ball. The likes of Doug Bracewell and Matt Henry soon rose above him in the pecking order.
Neil Wagner knows what the WTC Final is all about! #indvsnz #wtcfinal #teamindia #wagner #cricketnews pic.twitter.com/6l31o3CfEi
— CricketNews.com (@cricketnews_com) May 31, 2021
There is an old, blurry video from 2011 where Wagner removed five batters in an over in the Plunket Shield. Four bowled, one leg-before. How often does one see the present incarnation of Wagner operating at such line and length? When was the last time he claimed five wickets, not even one of which was obtained through a short-pitched ball?
But the method that brought him to the limelight in domestic cricket betrayed him at the international level. Soon he was out of the team. He went back to the drawing board. He introspected and improvised, and came up with something that added extra zing to the New Zealand pace attack.
Mike Hesson, the then head coach of the national side, insisted he should work more on getting the ball to swing. But Wagner knew the method was unlikely to yield returns, for the ball invariably lost shine by the time he came on, first change.
Competing with Boult and Southee was never an option. He had to do something that much-vaunted pair did not.
In Quest of the Ashes, Douglas Jardine noted two main purposes of bowling were taking wickets and restricting run-scoring. Typically, the pacers are entrusted with the first bit, while the spinners are tasked with the second. Taking wickets when the ball loses its shine, when the sun is at its brightest, and when the weariness starts to set in, is never easy. There is a reason why most successful bowlers open bowling.
But why should that mean that you could not be just as effective when you come on third or fourth? The game always rewards artistry, virtuosity, persistence. Wagner adopted the old-school attritional method, where the bullseye shifted from the top of off and middle to top of the batter’s shoulders.
Wagner will steam in, bang them short, and expect the batters to commit something silly. He will create an opportunity by restricting scoring areas and inducing false strokes.
The margin of error to deal with the ball coming directly at the shoulder is low. As much as some of the batsmen like to pull or hook, they do not cherish the idea of facing these balls regularly. Few play the pull better than Rohit Sharma, but even he ended up holing to square leg when Josh Hazlewood tested him with a short-pitched ball in the Sydney Test 2021.
When it comes to bowling the short-pitched ball day in and day out, Wagner is better than Hazlewood – indeed, than anyone in the world. Some may bowl a ferocious spell of bouncers, but no one in contemporary cricket can be at it like Wagner. After falling out of favour with the Test side, Wagner worked on this aspect of the game.
Boult and Southee’s contests against batters are simple and conventional, between bat and ball. Wagner adds body in the mix. This was on display on his comeback Test match, against Australia in 2016.
Steven Smith was well set, on 78, when he tried to duck against a shortish delivery from Wagner, only to cop a brutal blow on his helmet and prostrate on the pitch. Unflustered and unfazed, Smith pulled the next ball, went on to notch a century, and added another 38 before falling prey to a bouncer from Wagner. Joe Burns, another centurion of the match, got out while pulling Wagner.
Although New Zealand lost the match, Wagner bowled 50.1 overs and took seven wickets. It was the beginning of the turning point of Wagner’s career, an exhibition of what he would bring to the table. He averaged 21.04 for 41 wickets in 9 Test matches in 2016.
The famed New Zealand pace duo were now a fearsome troika, each different from the other. If Boult did not get you, Southee would; and if you were lucky to survive both, there was Wagner in the store. He would surely test the mobility of your pelvic bones with a constant attack on your body.
Wagner has so far played 54 Tests, bagging 229 wickets at 26.40. Only Richard Hadlee had more Test wickets after this many Tests for New Zealand. Conventional wisdom tells you that at 35, he is at the dusk of his prolific international career, but his zeal tells otherwise, for he as youthful, as relentless, as ruthless he has ever been.
Wagner was part of the New Zealand outfit that won the inaugural edition of the World Test Championship. What better things could he have asked for while leaving South Africa? Whatever is left of Wagner’s career, it should be savoured while it lasts. For there will never be another Neil Wagner.