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 hsi 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 could take on any side They always came for Bradman 'cause fortune used to hide in the palm of his hand
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 Oldfield hit the ground they nearly jumped the fence Now Bill Woodill 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 teams out there today and only one of them's playing cricket."
He was longer than a memory, 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 mush 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 could take on any side They always came for Bradman 'cause fortune used to hide in the palm of his hand