The Underarm Delivery That Shook the Melbourne Cricket Ground

Six runs needed, one ball left. That was the situation at the Melbourne Cricket Ground on the first of February 1981, with a huge crowd watching a World Series Cup final between Australia and New Zealand. What happened next was so strange that the crowd went quiet, then began to jeer. A bowler ran in, bent low and rolled the ball along the turf. It became one of the most notorious deliveries in cricket history.

A tense finish

The match had been a close contest. Australia, led by Greg Chappell, who scored a fine 90, had set a target of 236 in the fifty-over game. New Zealand's reply was built around Bruce Edgar, who batted with great composure to finish with a century. As the final over began, New Zealand needed 15 to win, and the match had become a race against a single over.

Trevor Chappell, Greg's younger brother, was the bowler. Before the last ball, New Zealand needed six to tie, which would at least have drawn the contest level. The batsman at the crease, Brian McKechnie, was a tailender, and a six was unlikely but not impossible. It was a risk Australia did not want to run.

The decision

Greg Chappell, the Australian captain, spoke to his brother and instructed him to bowl the final delivery underarm. There was a short discussion on the field, including with the wicketkeeper and umpires. The umpires confirmed that the action was legal under the playing conditions of the series, and so the ball was bowled.

Trevor Chappell trundled the ball along the ground. McKechnie blocked it, then, in an extravagant gesture of disgust, threw his bat away. The crowd erupted. The match was over, and Australia had won by a technicality that few could stomach.

The reaction

Response was swift and fierce. Commentators condemned the act. Ian Chappell, the elder brother, working as a commentator, was among those who reacted with dismay. The prime minister of New Zealand denounced it in extremely strong terms, and Australia's own prime minister said the action was contrary to the spirit of the game. For a moment, a cricket match became a matter of national dignity on both sides of the Tasman Sea.

The Australian team, for their part, argued that they had played within the rules. Chappell later said he had made a decision under pressure, and the incident clouded his reputation for years. Many people in Australia felt the moment was an embarrassment, even if technically legitimate, and public opinion was at odds with the idea of winning at any price.

Law and the spirit of cricket

The incident prompted a debate that cricket still has. The laws were clear that underarm bowling was permitted unless the umpire was told otherwise before the start of the match. Yet there is a long tradition in the game that how you win matters as much as whether you win. The phrase it is not cricket exists because of that idea, and the Melbourne episode seemed to give the phrase a fresh and uncomfortable meaning.

It's not cricket.

Common phrase

The sport's authorities acted quickly. Within days, the ICC and the national boards agreed that underarm bowling would not be allowed in one-day internationals, and the playing conditions were changed to forbid it. The episode also contributed to wider discussion about the responsibilities of captains and the importance of fair play.

Two countries, one grievance

The reaction in New Zealand was especially bitter. For a smaller cricketing nation used to being overshadowed by its neighbour, the incident felt like a slight on the whole country, and it entered the national memory as an injustice. Years later, the story was still told in schools and pubs, and it became part of the folklore of the trans-Tasman rivalry.

In Australia, opinion was divided but largely critical. Newspapers ran angry editorials, and many ordinary supporters felt embarrassed. The cricket board, while accepting that no law had been broken, made clear that the tactic was not one it wished to see repeated. It was a rare moment in which a captain's decision united critics from every corner of the game.

Looking back, the irony is that the match itself had been a fine contest until the final over. Two good teams had produced a century, a fighting chase and a close finish, and all of that was overshadowed by a few seconds at the end. It is a striking example of how one decision can define the memory of an entire day.

What remains

More than forty years later, the incident is still discussed whenever a team stretches the limits of the rules. It is invoked in debates about running out a non-striking batsman, or about how far a team should go to win. It stands as a lesson that victory can come at a cost, and that the way a result is achieved shapes how it is remembered.

Greg Chappell, one of the great batsmen of his era, has since reflected on the matter as a mistake. The ball, meanwhile, remains one of the strangest in cricket history, a slow, low roll that changed the rules and left a mark on the sport's conscience.