Father and Son Banks Steal Show
Fri, May 23, '03
(Sydney Morning Herald)
As Omari Banks calmly batted the West Indies towards an improbable Test victory in Antigua, the increasingly excited local beside me finally found his voice.
"Ee da mun, dis ere O-mari Banks! Ee da son of cool. Ee da son of one Bankie Banks . . . keep ya head down young man . . . Ee da son of Bankie Banks, the finest the Caribbean had ever produce."
Ignorantly, I asked when, exactly, this Bankie Banks character played cricket for the West Indies. The reply was incredulous. "Not crick-et! Aussie mun, where you bin? Bankie Banks no play no crick-et . . . he play guitar." And as if by way of divine punctuation, Omari Banks struck another boundary.
Bankie Banks? Was this bloke kidding me? After all, he had drunk an entire litre of Cavalier Antiguan rum for every day of the Test, and during the tea break had imbibed on curious-smelling cigarettes that glazed his eyes. Before I could probe further, the winning runs were struck and my informant leapt the fence with a thousand other ecstatic Antiguans. I was left in the stand, sober, to contemplate Australia's demise, and who on earth was Bankie Banks.
Later that night I found out. Celebrations were continuing at Lashings, a beachside bar owned by former captain Richie Richardson. Locals gyrated and the majority of Steve Waugh's vanquished XI stared into their banana daiquiris.
On stage was local cover band Crazy Dread and the Baldhead. It was the sort of ensemble you might expect to see at a university ball, except that Richardson was on rhythm guitar and Curtly Ambrose on bass. You didn't have to be the most ardent cricket fan to appreciate the surreal nature of the evening. Dozens of Test cricketers, a handful of immortals (Steve Waugh, Glenn McGrath) and 500 fans, yet it all gelled together beautifully. This is how cricket is celebrated on an island nation with a population the same as Bendigo.
The lead singer announced it was time to welcome his idol, please welcome Mr Bankie Banks! And there he was.
Tall, lean, maybe late 50s. Uber-cool. Greeting the crowd with a massive smile, he rhetorically asked who in the house had a guitar for him. Richardson surrendered his, and he sang. Gravelly, unmade like even the best Antiguan roads, he was resonant of Bob Dylan or Cat Stevens. Perhaps a Caribbean Cat Dylan.
Legend has it Bankie Banks was just nine when he scraped together some plywood and copperwire and homemade his first guitar. Now, 40 years later and known professionally as Bankie BANX, he's an international recording star. Since 1978, when he produced his first album Herbs and Roots, he has made eight more, released to widespread acclaim in the eclectic world of independent music. He is still based in Anguilla, and honours a weekly live appearance at his own bar.
Old man Banks left the stage to rapturous applause. An hour or so later, when members of the West Indies team sauntered in, he was coaxed back on stage and soon beckoned his matchwinning son to join him. Bankie sang first, with a sheepish Omari plucking Ambrose's bass discreetly. Then dad suggested a role reversal and he effortlessly picked off the Marley classic, No Woman, No Cry.
It was an extraordinary scene. The kid is 20. Playing in just his second Test, batting at No. 8, he carves a steel-nerved 47 to save his team the embarrassment of being white-washed at home for the first time ever. In the process they establish a world-record fourth-innings run chase of 418. Against the most intimidating team in the world.
Omari is the first Test cricketer to come from Anguilla, population about 10,000. Like being the first Test cricketer from Ararat. And now he's on a different stage, playing music with his dad, who just happens to be a recording star. Ambrose on bass, Richardson consigned to the tambourine. Behold, in one brilliant moment, the sheer exoticism of West Indian cricket.
Drawing parallels is futile but fun. Imagine Australia beat England in the Boxing Day Test. Both teams, and half of Bay 13, slide down to the Espy in St Kilda, where local pub band More Moustache The Better is playing, featuring Merv Hughes on bass and Allan Border on rhythm guitar. Paul Kelly emerges, belts out a few tunes, reveals Ricky Ponting is his son and together they perform.
The world will see plenty more of Omari Banks. But how much more will it see, particularly Australia, of his old man, Bankie? Perhaps the next time the West Indies tour Australia, a savvy promoter could bring out old man Banks for a parallel tour. Just make sure the Espy is vacant after the final day of that Melbourne Test match.
* Republished from the Sydney Morning Herald.