Johannesburg — Rudi Koertzen and Billy Bowden strode out to the middle of The Oval. It was a Monday evening, mid-September 2005. The place was packed.
Thousands of drunk Englishmen and women had already popped the champagne, or deliriously drowned themselves in pints. However, the outcome wasn’t official yet.
Rudi and Billy had to do their thing. Out they came down the stairs, cheers from the crowd ringing in their ears, TV cameras following their every step, while some bulky security guards ensured no one would try anything.
Out they walked, got to the centre square, turned around, looked towards the change-rooms, then up at the sky, they exchanged words and waved their hands around a bit. “What a performance from these two gentlemen,” Michael Atherton bellowed on commentary.
Rudi took his time, walked down the middle of the pitch, and lifted the bails. “England have reclaimed the Ashes,” Atherton exclaimed.
And what a performance it was from Rudi Koertzen. He and Bowden almost exemplified an era of very colourful umpires. Shortly before they were regulars on the officiating scene, there was Dave Sheppard, who’d hop around every time the batting side’s total reached 111 or 222.
There was Steve Bucknor, who’d let the batter know he was out, by saying “out” and then raising his finger. Umpire Srinivas Venkataraghavan would send a batter on his way with his right arm, cocked to the side, and the index finger raised. Bowden was, well, Bowden. And Koertzen had that distinctive move – the ultra slow (and it got slower over the course of his career) raising of the left arm and index finger.
If batters could have a signature shot, and bowlers their personal celebration on taking a wicket, why couldn’t an umpire have a distinctive method for dismissal?
Koertzen’s was the ‘slow finger of death’. It was theatrical, and it added to the occasion of any match. He described the reasons behind it in an interview with the Indian Express in 2010.
“When my umpiring career first began, I used to hold my hands in front of me and every time there was an appeal, I would fold it against my ribs,” Koertzen said.
Then someone told me, ‘Rudi, you can’t do that, every time you raise your hands to fold it, the bowler thinks you’re going to give him a wicket’. So I started clasping my wrists at the back. The finger comes out slowly because it takes time for me to release my grasp at the back.”
While it deflated many a batter, there can be no doubting the respect they had for Koertzen. From Sachin Tendulkar to Ricky Ponting, Virender Sehwag and Adam Gilchrist shared their sympathy at the news of Koertzen’s death in a car accident on Tuesday.
“I first met Rudi in 1992 & we became good friends over the years. He was a warm-hearted person who always greeted players with a big smile. He commanded respect from one & all,” Tendulkar wrote on twitter.
Koertzen’s last Test — the 108th he officiated in — was between Australia and Pakistan at Headingley. At the end of that match, the cricinfo commentary wrote: “Rudi, with a tear in his eye, picks up a stump and leads the players off the field.”
IOL Sport