Bradman

Sydney, 1926, this is the story of a man

Just a kid in from the sticks, just a kid with a plan

St George took a gamble, played him in first grade

Pretty soon that young man showed them how to flash the blade

And at the age of nineteen he was playing for the State

From Adelaide to Brisbane, the runs did not abate

He hit 'em hard, he hit 'em straight

He was more than just a batsman

He was something like a tide

He was more than just one man

He could take on any side

They always came for Bradman 'cause fortune used to hide in the palm of his hand

A team came out from England

Wally Hammond wore his felt hat like a chief

All through the summer of '28, '29 they gave the greencaps no relief

Some reputations came to grief

They say the darkest hour is right before the dawn

And in the hour of greatest slaughter the great avenger is being born

But who then could have seen the shape of things to come

In Bradman's first test he went for eighteen and for one

They dropped him like a gun

Now big Maurice Tate was the trickiest of them all

And a man with a wisecracking habit

But there's one crack that won't stop ringing in his ears

"Hey Whitey, that's my rabbit"

Bradman never forgot it

He was more than just a batsman

He was something like a tide

He was more than just one man

He could take on any side

They always came for Bradman 'cause fortune used to hide in the palm of his hand

England, 1930 ... and the seed burst into flower

All of Jackson's grace failed him, it was Bradman was the power

He murdered them in Yorkshire, he danced for them in Kent

He laughed at them in Leicestershire, Leeds was an event

Three hundred runs he took and rewrote all the books

That really knocked those gents

The critics could not comprehend this nonchalant phenomenon

"Why this man is a machine," they said. "Even his friends say he isn't human"

Even friends have to cut something.

He was more than just a batsman

He was something like a tide

He was more than just one man

He was half the side

Fathers used to take their sons 'cause fortune used to hide in the palm of his hand, in the palms of his hands.

Summer, 1932 ... and Captain Douglas had a plan

When Larwood bowled to Bradman it was more than man to man

And staid Adelaide nearly boiled over as rage ruled over sense

When Bert Oldfield hit the ground they nearly jumped the fence

Now Bill Woodfill was as fine a man as ever went to wicket

And the bruises on his body that day showed that he could stick it

But to this day he's still quoted and only he could wear it

"There's two sides out there today and only one of them's playing cricket."

He was longer than a memory, and bigger than a town

He feet they used to sparkle and he always kept them on the ground

Fathers took their sons who never lost the sound of the roar of the grandstand.

Now shadows they grow longer and there's so much more yet to be told

But we're not getting any younger, so let the part tell the whole

Now the players all wear colours, the circus is in town

I can no longer go down there, down to that sacred ground

He was more than just a batsman

He was something like a tide

He was more than just one man

He was half the bloody any side

Fathers took their sons 'cause fortune used to hide in the palm of his hand