Power, Packer & pain: Martin Kent at 70

In his Karana Downs home in Brisbane's bushy south-west, Martin Kent is savouring the feeling of a first pain-free day in around three months.

Yesterday, on the advice of a specialist, he underwent a nerve block on the C6 vertebrae in his neck – a procedure effectively designed to deaden the pain he is feeling. It is the first of two he has scheduled – the C5 is next – and he hopes they will allow him to both avoid surgery and resume the twice weekly golf schedule he ordinarily enjoys.

Three months. Some 42 years ago, that stretch of time represented something else for Kent: it was the narrow bridge he walked from joy to despair; between a maiden Test appearance and a sudden exit from the first-class scene.

Of Australia's 154 men's players since, none have experienced a Baggy Green debut and a final first-class game in the same calendar year.

Greg Chappell calls him "one of the best homegrown talents Queensland has ever had".

Allan Border labels him "a terrific player – he would've played a lot more Test cricket".

Yet for reasons both obvious and opaque, Kent parted ways with cricket three weeks before he turned 29.

Now, as he arrives at his 70th birthday, he insists it is a decision he is at peace with.

"I've never regretted it," he tells cricket.com.au. "Put it that way."

* * *

Those of a certain vintage will likely recall with fondness the moustachioed Martin Kent. Born in North Queensland, he moved with his family to the country town of Monto in the Wide Bay-Burnett region, then landed in Brisbane as a 14-year-old. He was playing first grade for Sandgate-Redcliffe at the same age, then hitting a match-winning 140 on his Sheffield Shield debut shortly before his 21st birthday.

The year was 1974 and Queensland were still considered the easybeats of the domestic competition, though Chappell's arrival and a couple of one-day titles across the next decade would begin to change that.

Kent's presence was also a factor in the shift towards optimism for those north of the Tweed. He was an imposing figure at the crease, he hit the ball hard and he had a natural aggression to match.

"No matter who it was, no matter what country they were from, and particularly the quicks, you want to show them you're in charge," he says. "That's what I always tried to do."

It was an attitude that evidently held considerable appeal to many watching on. In March 1976, not long before he was due to be married and shortly after he had rattled up a couple more Shield hundreds, Kent took a phone call from Richie Benaud.

"There was a goodwill tour going to South Africa and (Benaud) wanted me to take part," he recalls. "We were booked to have our honeymoon on Hayman Island, but when that opportunity came up, my wife Elaine reluctantly agreed (laughs) … it was a much more relaxed tour than others though, so we got time off to go travelling and sightseeing. And in a funny sense, it wasn't a bad honeymoon."

Kent also hit a sparkling 155 against the South Africans at the Wanderers, which was one of a number of innings that so impressed Chappell, he ensured his young Queensland teammate came on Kerry Packer's radar when World Series Cricket (WSC) shook the foundations of the game in 1977.

"All I wanted to do was play cricket for Queensland," he says. "But when I heard all the names of the players who were contracted (for WSC), because I was very late on the list, I thought: Well, that's where the best cricket is going to be played, and if I want to play that, I should do it.

"But us younger blokes didn't know what the hell was going on. It was all very secretive."

The 24-year-old was working for transport company TNT when he received an offer to sign with WSC: $20,000 per season (Oct 1 – Mar 31) for three years.

"I had a perfectly good job, which I happened to like," he says. "And the contract meant I would've had to resign, but it was only for six months each year, and it just didn't stack up. So I decided not to sign.

"The next day, my branch manager called me into his office and told me he'd just had a call from Sir Peter Abeles, who owned TNT and was a very, very rich mate of Kerry's.

"Sir Peter said to him, 'You've got a boy there who plays cricket. He will play for Kerry'.

"So I was able to sign the contract, pack my bags and I was on full pay for the year. It certainly didn't line my pockets, but I was able to feel comfortable about keeping bread and butter on the table.

"People tend to think if you played World Series cricket, you made a lot of money. There's probably a few of us around who would be able to dispel that myth."

Initially Kent became part of the Cavaliers side – a collection of WSC cricketers from across the globe who essentially formed a 'best of the rest' team that competed throughout Australia. He had the time of his life, playing in front of big crowds against world-class opponents.

In both 1977-78 and '78-79 he was called up to Australia's WSC XI, playing 10 Tests and 20 ODIs at home and in the Caribbean. In Barbados, he broke through for a maiden international hundred against an attack spearheaded by Colin Croft and Joel Garner. It was an innings that convinced him – with a little help from a friend – he had the ability to match it with the world's best.

"Ian Chappell pulled me aside in the dressing room in Bridgetown and gave me the clip under the ears I probably needed," he says. "Basically he woke me up to say, 'Look, don't think you can't play the game – you're mixing it well with these blokes, so get out there and play, and enjoy it'.

"So I did. It was a wonderful experience, and genuinely bloody tough cricket."

When Kent returned to the fold with Queensland after the WSC experience, he continued his upwards trajectory. The 1980-81 season was the finest of his career; his 834 runs at 69.50 were second only to Chappell in the Shield, and the campaign earned him a call-up to the ODI side for the infamous Underarm series against New Zealand.

A couple of months later, he was named as part of Australia's 1981 Ashes tour. That series is remembered for the exploits of Ian Botham but Kent acquitted himself well in the three Tests he played, top-scoring with 52 out of 130 in the first innings in Manchester, then making 54 as a makeshift opener in the final Test at The Oval.

It was after that however, that disaster struck. Reports at the time had Kent favourite to retain his place in Australia's Test XI for the home series against Pakistan. To ensure that happened however, he opted to play a tour match for Queensland against the Pakistanis despite his back issue having flared up significantly.

Kent made a brave 91 but could barely stand by the end of his innings. He remembers being in "horrible pain" throughout.

"I was selected for the first Test in Perth, subject to fitness," he says. "(Queensland team doctor) Tom Dooley loosened up my right leg, and he said, 'You're f$#%@d, aren't you'."

He couldn't deny it. Forced to withdraw from the Test series, he never played first-class cricket again.

* * *

Kent can trace his history of back problems all the way back to his teenage years, not long after he arrived in Brisbane.

"I first hurt it at Deagon (a northern suburb of Brisbane)," he says. "I used to bowl a bit in those days, like an idiot, and I remember getting on the bus in the afternoon and I nearly collapsed in the aisle.

"That was the start of it, and it hasn't finished yet."

The first operation came in early 1982, when Kent was still considering the possibility of resuming his cricket career, and what exactly a 'career' in the sport looked like at the time. For top tier players, World Series Cricket had changed the game financially, but for the vast majority, cricket remained an escape from work rather than work itself. And for the Queenslanders, a three-week southern tour each season often required them cashing in their annual leave simply to be a part of it.

"People say I retired because of a back injury," Kent says. "There's nothing untrue about that, but it wasn't the only reason – it was a trigger for me to start thinking about what the hell I was going to do for my future.

"We'd had World Series Cricket but there was still no money in the game, and I could see no clear line for a future in cricket (in which he was) earning enough money."

His memories of his initial back surgery 1982, and the process that led to it, are still vivid. Technology at the time meant it was difficult to determine the precise cause of the pain, but in an attempt to do so, Kent had a myelogram – an imaging test in which dye is injected into the spinal column so any issues can be detected.

"I had to lie down flat for eight hours, and it exposed a badly bulging disc, which was what was putting pressure on the nerve root," he says.

"But the myelogram came with some horrible side effects. I remember standing up for a pee and immediately it hit me like a sledgehammer up the back of the neck and head. I had a massive headache for days, and I was just in enormous pain."

Kent feels his decision to quit the game was vindicated when in April 1987 he answered a call from Rod Marsh, who asked him to play in a charity match at the WACA Ground. It had been more than five years since his retirement but with the national side struggling, the question of 'what if?' with regards to Kent's career still lingered for many cricket fans across the country, if not for the man himself.

"I made runs (67), but I couldn't walk the next day – couldn't get out of the car," he says. "All that did was confirm the choice I'd made. I came back home and had a second back operation."

Kent returned to cricket as Queensland's assistant coach for a couple of seasons in the early 1990s, when his former teammate Jeff Thomson held the top job. It was a role he thoroughly enjoyed although by the time the Bulls broke through for their maiden Shield title in March 1995, he was running a pub in Toowoomba.

He was there though at the Gabba for that historic day, and many more famous occasions across the generation that followed as he took up a role as secretary manager of the Queensland Cricketers' Club, which is based there. As he looks back, he prefers to picture the venue as it was in his playing days.

"Not saying they did a bad job (with the redevelopment) … but my favourite memory is the old Gabba, with the dog track around it," he says. "And the fact a few thousand people would come out to watch a Shield game. 

"They'd spill onto the dog track, and down in that western corner were all the flowerbeds – hooking the ball into there was a lot of fun.

"Once it became a stadium, it changed its whole feeling – for me, anyway."

Kent was also a foundation member of the Bulls Masters, and remains a staunch proponent of all the organisation does to grow the sport in the state's regional and far-flung areas.

In fact, for a man who stopped playing so young, Kent has been a quite regular presence around cricket in Queensland, rarely drifting far from its periphery. Throughout, he has managed his back pain well. There was a third operation around 2000, but generally, he has been able to lead a comfortable life; his most recent neck pain, which required him to wear a neck brace, has been more the exception than the rule, and provided he maintains his religious approach to his morning stretching routine, he sees his habit of golfing on Tuesdays and Saturdays continuing well into his 70s.

He looks back and concedes there were alternative routes he might have taken in a bid to return to cricket; he opted not to have his spine fused, for instance. Yet he also believes such a move would have compromised his long-term health, that a few more years in the game – be it as an Australia star or otherwise – might have robbed him of the enjoyment he now derives from walking the fairways of Brisbane River golf course.

Not long ago he linked back up with Lindsay Trigar, who was the Queensland team physio during his playing days. Kent looked him up and was surprised to see he was still working, and the pair picked up where they left off some 40 years ago. According to Kent, Trigar believes the repeated of turning his neck to face the bowler each delivery could well have played a role in his neck pain.

"I've also never had great posture, and I've got scoliosis and a curvature of the lower spine," he adds. "These are all things I learned much later in life, and none of them help."

Kent has also given thought to his physical health in the context of the era in which he played, when the concepts of fitness and conditioning were scarcely considered. It is a stark contrast, he knows, from the professional environment today's players inhabit. And it is not a laying of blame, but a finding of reason.

"I'm the first to recognise I'm not the fittest bloke in the world," he says. "But then, a lot of that is associated with the culture of the day.

"We drank and we smoked, we were sponsored by bloody Benson & Hedges, sponsored by breweries. There was no policeman or measuring stick, no contract over your head where you needed to do this, and for that, you get rewarded."

Along similar lines, he feels the incentives just weren't there for him to risk his body for potentially another decade. Which brings him full circle.

"We were playing a Shield match for $70 – that's it," he says. "But having said that, I don't deny the players doing what they're doing, earning a quid these days.

"We've had to work hard to get to this point in our life and retire on a golf course, but I love it, and we're very happy.

"(Retiring from cricket) was not something I took lightly. It wasn't a decision I made immediately after the (first) operation. My surgeon was quite disappointed I didn't get back to cricket … but there was no way I could see that I could perform how I wanted to.

"I made the choice, and I don't regret anything."