Kevin Pepper was just one of the many Kiama players that had the talent, but perhaps not the drive, to succeed. Despite his formidable body size and ferocious ability with bat and ball, it was unpredictable as to when his talent was going to appear. Motivation was always at a premium, and trying to build him up to perform at the peaks required for the team's sake could often be a chore, and in vain.
As a teenager he was almost unnaturally big for his age – fearsome before you even had to face up to him, especially in juniors. He wasn’t a monster like some of the Pacific Island kids that come through in the football codes now, but in the same way he had a big upper body that was driven along deceptively quickly by his legs. Even in lower Grade cricket he could intimidate, his speed and bounce on the coir matting having many an opponent jumping around. He could make the ball rear off a good length, especially off that coir matting that was prevalent in the years before the use of astroturf became widespread, and in the days before helmets began to make their way into South Coast cricket, it could be a dangerous afternoon for opponents if he was on song. When he was fifteen he was pursued by two or three Sydney clubs to play in their AW Green Shield side (which is the Sydney Under 16 representative competition), but as with most things in Kevin’s life, it was deemed to be too much trouble to follow through with.
Of course, having graduated to the top Grades, playing on turf wickets, none of it would have meant a thing if he couldn’t back it up with something else - in other words, if he didn't have the ability.
Kevin, or ‘Pep’ as he was known to his teammates, wasn't just a bowler. His size also lent himself to some big hitting when he came out to bat. He certainly held his own as a batsman, though he tended to be very hit and miss – pun intended. His figures probably show he could have been an asset higher in the order, but that his value was in the lower middle order. While winners of the batting average award can sometimes be helped by late order not outs and runs against weaker teams, Kevin’s effort in winning the Harry Brown Trophy in 1985/86 was more a reflection on the lack of runs in the top order than any perceived ‘easy’ runs he himself may have made. He showed defensive capabilities when it was needed, but he was much more interested in hitting the ball to, or over, the boundary to ever become a serious top order batsman.
He played his first game for Kiama in Grade cricket on October 8, 1983 in 4th Grade. After just five matches in 3rd and 4th Grades, he bypassed 2nd Grade to make his 1st Grade debut against Albion Park Rail at Geoff Shaw Oval on January 21, 1984 as a fill-in, when he was still 14 years of age. He scored 12 runs in his trip to the crease, and took one wicket from his nine sparse overs spread over the two innings of that match. After this, he played the final two matches of the season in 2nd Grade, where he scored 52, 36 not out, 6 and 68 in his four innings, and with the ball took 3/34, 2/25 and 3/67.
The following season, with Kiama’s 1st Grade team still strong and competitive (reaching the final), he played all but one game in 2nd Grade, his one 1st Grade appearance coming in a match against Gerringong where he only played the first weekend when Kiama batted most of the day, his contribution being a second ball duck.
His season in 2nd Grade can be seen to be defining of his characteristics as a cricketer. He was still playing Under 16 cricket every Saturday morning, and partly as a result of this he was often a reluctant afternoon cricketer, and when games were played at Bonaira Street Oval near Kendall’s Beach, it was the surf where he spent more time than on the cricket field. When batting, he was rarely more interested than trying to find the boundary no matter what the situation of the match, and his bowling was dependant on his motivation. On occasions he was unplayable and treacherous, such as against Lake Illawarra at Bonaira Street Oval in the last game before the Christmas break in 1984. ‘Pep’ had been stung by some criticism of him in an Under 16’s game that morning, while at Grade training that week it had been suggested that he wasn’t worth his place in the team, and that a couple of medium pacers in 3rd Grade who were starting to show some good figures may well be a better bet than he was. (Let me assure you that this wasn’t a well thought out argument, as one of the medium pacers being referred to in that conversation was your humble correspondent, and there was a huge difference in the seam bowling ability between Kevin Pepper and myself). Combine these two scenarios and ‘Pep’ had found his motivation to perform. Defending 217 from the week before (Scott Butler top scoring with a windmill-wielding 135), ‘Pep’ was at his fiery best, ripping out the top order in a trice, before returning late to take two more wickets and conceding almost no runs. He finished with 5/38 off 29 overs, and was only unable to finish off the tail from sheer exhaustion.
Unfortunately, that kind of motivation wasn’t always there to help inspire him to greater rewards. However, after the New Year break ‘Pep’ retained that form, and soon put behind his slow start to the cricket year. He finished that season with 25 wickets at 13.72, and his apprenticeship in the lower Grades had concluded.
For someone so naturally talented, Kevin’s training regime was perhaps a reflection of the completely amateurish preparation of teams during the 1980’s – although in many ways it is still true today. ‘Pep’ would show up at training whenever the surf died off at Kendall’s Beach. He’d lope in with that lop-sided grin of his, and drawl away in conversation to the batsmen padding up beside the nets. These batsmen would be keen to keep him in conversation, because if they could do so until they went in to bat, he would still have to get his shoes on, find a ball, mark out a run and be prepared to go before he could get at them. But even then, you never knew which Kevin Pepper was turning up to train. Most of the time, he would just roll in off two steps and send down a ball at about 50 to 75% velocity (still enough to dispose of lower Grade batsmen), which he would do for half a dozen deliveries over the course of fifteen minutes, before maybe looking to pad up himself, or just deciding to slink off back to the surf or home. On some days though, if someone had been in his ear or he just wanted to blow off some steam, he would come off an almost full length run, pound in, and hone in on the poor net batsmen with short thunderbolts, before producing the perfect yorker to crash into the stumps or (on some unfortunate occasions) the unprotected feet or ankles of the batsman.
On one memorable afternoon, a fellow teammate had suggested at school during the day that ‘Pep’ had lost it, and wouldn’t even be able to dismiss him in the nets that afternoon. Well, the challenge had been laid down, and in all honesty, the person in question probably thought that ‘Pep’ would be more likely to be at the surf that day than at training. But no, ‘Pep’ was there straight after school, and he was charging off the full run. The antagonist was in no position to back down, and so in he went. Now remember, this was in the days before helmets, and there are not a lot of places to hide in a batting net. For ten minutes this batsman faced four bowlers in his net, meaning every fourth ball he faced was from Kevin Pepper with his back up. With each delivery, the batsman in question was backing further and further away at the point of delivery, but no matter how far away he was, ‘Pep’ was still able to find him, collecting him on arms, legs, wrists, hands, fingers, ribs and back. On his final delivery, the batsman was literally back up against the leg side net, a metre and a half away from the stumps, as the ball was delivered. ‘Pep’ still found him. As he walked out of the net, ‘Pep’ simply looked at him with the hint of a smile and said, “You know, you were right. I couldn’t get you out today”.
The following season, Paul ‘Bubble’ Stewart made a similar faux pas, mentioning to all around him that “I haven’t been dismissed in the nets this season”. This was like petrol to a flame, as ‘Pep’ went from just sauntering around the bowling crease to moving back towards a full run. For the next ten minutes, the sound most heard in that net was the pinging of metal stumps being knocked over, and the wave of laughter from the other bowlers in the net getting louder and louder. ‘Bubble’ was bowled on no less than nine occasions during that session, the majority of those by ‘Pep’. Just because he could.
Freed from the shackles of having to play junior cricket in the morning, the 1985/86 season saw ‘Pep’ graduate to 1st Grade full time, and it was a season which showed the full talents of the now 16 year old. In a season where Kiama missed the 1st Grade finals for the first time in four years, ‘Pep’ was one of the few shining lights. In the 13 games he appeared in, he only made it to the crease with bat in hand on nine occasions. On three of those he remained not out. His aggregate of 172 runs at an average of 28.67 was enough for him to win the Harry Brown Trophy as leading Kiama batsman in 1st Grade for the season.
But it was his bowling where he excelled. In Round 2 he destroyed Gerringong in their one day game, taking 6/27 in Kiama’s victory. Against Albion Park Rail in Round 4 he finished with match figures of 7/47. Wickets didn’t always follow good bowling. In the following match against Shellharbour he finished with 1/16 off his 10 overs in the one day fixture, but with three dropped chances and numerous deliveries beating the outside edge, it could have been so much better.
With 1st Grade’s season floundering, and an outright victory required, ‘Pep’ stepped up again in the penultimate round to try and wrest a victory. Once again ‘Pep’ was beset by bad luck, his 17 overs bringing 1/34. He was then promoted to number three in the batting order to look for quick runs, his 17 off ten balls helping the team to declare with a lead of 44 runs. On the second weekend, ‘Pep’ came into his own, tearing in from the northern end at Keith Grey Oval, taking seven of the first eight wickets to fall, helping to bowl out Albion Park for just 129. Though Kiama fell 25 runs short in chasing the outright (they needed 85 off 8 overs), ‘Pep’ had proven his worth. His 15 overs in the second innings produced his best figures of 7/36.
His season tally of 34 wickets at 15.91 was his best finish for a cricket season, and combined with his batting made Kevin an all-rounder to be reckoned with.
Ironically, ‘Pep’ then missed the first half of the following season, not playing until after Christmas, so that he could focus on his HSC exams. ‘Pep’ was as committed to school as he occasionally was on the cricket field - preferring to be in the surf or indulging in other ... err... passions... and not overly interested about the studying side of things. So when he didn't play in order to complete his exams (and once they had finished, to complete his partying) it was somewhat of an oxymoron. The fact that he then failed, and instead repeated his final year of school (with even more disastrous results), but still played cricket for the SECOND half of the season, even as he was repeating Year Twelve, it made that lost half a season seem to be a little strange.
There was no such mistake in the 1987/88 season. ‘Pep’ was there from the start of the season, and perhaps his batting was what kept him inspired from the outset. In the first round match against Lake Illawarra he finished 40 not out after some lusty hitting late in the innings. But better was to come.
In the second game of the season, Kiama took on Jamberoo at Kevin Walsh Oval. Looking to build momentum, the batting had failed to fire again, and at 6/148 it had been left to ‘Pep’ to take control. It was one of his favourite scenarios. The ground was small, the situation cried out for someone to hit the team out of trouble, and the bowling attack was not the paciest going around. He began steadily, taking the singles and two's on offer, and hitting judiciously when the ball was pitched up or just a tad short. Partnerships ensued – 44 with Col Wright, 35 with Gavin Hartley, and 38 with Allan Piper. As wickets fell at the other end, Kevin held his head, and his individual total moved along with it.
At the fall of the ninth wicket, 15 year old Jason Wills appeared slightly nervously at the crease. Jason had made his debut in 1st Grade the previous weekend as a fill-in, but this was his first game as a 1st choice player. It was some years before he became the fearless stroke player that blazed runs to all parts of the field. On this day he was just a skinny kid at number eleven, coming in with his larger and more ebullient batting partner within sight of a 1st Grade century.
‘Pep’ had made his way to 68, and with the young number eleven at the crease, he began to take a few more liberties with the bowling. Two balls were swiped mightily into the adjoining public pool at the southern end, another into the trees that protected the rivulet and picnic area at the northern end. In a matter of overs he had moved into the nineties, and his young partner had managed to nibble three singles through the field that strangled him around the bat whenever he was on strike.
‘Pep’ knew he was getting close. Whether he knew exactly how many runs he was is now lost in the mist of time, but he knew enough to be forceful in his meeting with his new batting partner. "Forceful" probably isn't the correct word. "Intimidating" is probably closer to the mark. As they met in the middle of the wicket after ‘Pep’ had failed to retain the strike for the next over, Jason's instructions were clear. "Just block this bloke out, so I'll have the strike for the next over". And as they parted, there was one final word of advice "Don't fuck this up for me". Needless to say, despite his best and bravest efforts (Jason's words, not mine), the young number eleven was unable to complete his instructions as laid out, losing his stumps to Tony Hastings to the first ball of that over, and the innings concluded with ‘Pep’ stranded on 93 not out. Though he is unable to recall the precise words that were said to him, Jason assures me that they were not the most conciliatory words he has ever received from a partner upon his dismissal.
It was as a bowler, though, that ‘Pep’ made his reputation in our Club. He rarely used the bouncer as a weapon. His pace and size was fierce enough without having to resort to short pitched bowling. He wasn't a big swinger of the ball, but he could move the ball away from the batsman just enough to get the edge, especially when his pace had negated any attempt at footwork towards the delivery. He had a good off cutter that could scythe batsmen in half on occasions. His other great weapon was his line, which rarely wavered from a foot outside off stump. He would curse himself when he strayed onto the batsman’s pads. His line was most noticeable on the rare occasions that he played 2nd Grade, because he was far too good for 2nd Grade batsmen bowling that line. He would beat them time and again, but couldn't bring himself to straighten up for fear of getting down the leg side.
For those of us that played with him, it could be a frustrating time when it wasn't happening for him, because we knew just how destructive he could be. As has been related previously, it seemed at times that he was at his most dangerous when he was bowling against his own teammates at training, rather than against opponents on weekends. We wanted to see that Kevin Pepper turning up every week, making the opposing teams shake in their boots about having to face him.
For me, one particular afternoon will always stand out as the perfect example of what he could have been.
21st March, 1987. First Grade Semi-Final, Kiama Vs Shellharbour. Oakleigh Park, Warilla.
Imagine the atmosphere. Kiama – the minor premiers – have been shot out for just 140 after winning the toss and batting. The Kiama side, though a little shocked and sombre, still believe in themselves and their chances. They have good reason for doing so after the season they’ve had, finishing at the top of the table, and having escaped from some similar predicaments on their way. Shellharbour – the reigning premiers – are overjoyed. They’re lucky to be here at all, having just scraped into fourth spot in front of Jamberoo, some would say controversially. They know that in the time they have left on that first afternoon, they just need to survive. Make stumps with no wickets down, and it’s their day.
By the fence, 'Pep' is simmering. His contribution with the bat has been a duck, run out by the skipper trying to retain the strike, and the send off he received with it has not enlightened his mood. Kevin never believed in the benefits of a warm up, and this afternoon he just keeps pulling himself up and down, back and forth on the fence, allowing his frustration to simmer, eager to get amongst it. There was no need for motivation that day. He had only an hour to let loose, and he wasn't going to leave anything in the tank.
Running in from the northern end, Pep was a study in beauty. The fluid approach to the wicket was like watching a steam train rocketing along the tracks, momentum and speed building as he thundered toward the crease. He charged at top speed until within a metre of the umpire, at which point he exploded into his delivery stride, the force of his boots making the bails quake under his feet. His release sent the ball careering toward the far end at an exhilarating speed.
There is no way to say what the batsmen had in their minds that afternoon – whether they were approaching the final hour of the day as a period in which to score quick runs, or to ensure their wickets were intact for the run chase the following day. No matter what they were thinking, the truth was the only thing they could concentrate on that afternoon was survival – both batting-wise and physically-wise. Pep was on fire, attacking the batsmen with ferocity, short of a length and making them jump around the crease. And those on show weren't mugs – Ian Grant, Greg Harvey, Barry Pearson. But that afternoon they were like ducks in a shooting gallery. They played and missed, they fended away, they ducked missiles, they took blows on the body.
It was awesome to watch from where I was fielding at backward point. I was probably a bit close, certainly if the batsmen began to slash at the ball. In reality though there was going to be none of that on that afternoon. The ball was coming at them so quickly that they barely had time to poke at the ball than to wind up and give it a bit of heave-ho. The only thing that was going to be coming to me was something off the top of the bat, possibly via glove, chest and head. Shellharbour were on top, but no one wanted to be batting that afternoon.
In his spell of six overs that afternoon, 'Pep' finished with two wickets for just six runs, all from edges. Grant was caught at backward square leg trying to fend off a vicious bouncer. Harvey had his off stump plucked out of the ground with his feet rooted outside leg stump. The not out batsmen overnight would both have sported bruises from the attack they faced that afternoon. Kevin's spell that afternoon had the whole Kiama team believing it had the winning of the game the following day.
The next day 'Pep' was still fast, but without the venom of the previous evening. He, along with everyone else, had the stuffing knocked out of his sails when, with Shellharbour teetering at 4/29, Rob Jordan was dropped at second slip by Stuart Holmes off the first ball he faced. At 5/29 and the top order gone, the game would have been almost over. As it turned out, this was still true. Jordan went on to score 139, and the game for Kiama was lost.
'Pep' finished with 3/36 from 20 overs in that match in one of his more memorable performances. In all 1st Grade matches he took 75 wickets at 18.35, with a best return of 7/36 against Albion Park, and scored 591 runs at 19.71, with a best of 93 not out against Jamberoo. The figures tell the story of a player who had the potential to be a destroyer, but failed to take full advantage of it.
In the end 'Pep' just wandered out of the game. Unpaid fees hindered any real chance of returning in later years, though the likelihood of him doing so was never strong. Occasionally during an off season you could run into him at the Grand Hotel or at Tory’s Hotel, where over a schooner he would speak of being keen to have another crack – a thought that probably left his conscious the second you shook hands and parted company. In the end the promise of youth was allowed to rest without any real regret on his part, but maybe just a little from those that occasionally played with him.
As a teenager he was almost unnaturally big for his age – fearsome before you even had to face up to him, especially in juniors. He wasn’t a monster like some of the Pacific Island kids that come through in the football codes now, but in the same way he had a big upper body that was driven along deceptively quickly by his legs. Even in lower Grade cricket he could intimidate, his speed and bounce on the coir matting having many an opponent jumping around. He could make the ball rear off a good length, especially off that coir matting that was prevalent in the years before the use of astroturf became widespread, and in the days before helmets began to make their way into South Coast cricket, it could be a dangerous afternoon for opponents if he was on song. When he was fifteen he was pursued by two or three Sydney clubs to play in their AW Green Shield side (which is the Sydney Under 16 representative competition), but as with most things in Kevin’s life, it was deemed to be too much trouble to follow through with.
Of course, having graduated to the top Grades, playing on turf wickets, none of it would have meant a thing if he couldn’t back it up with something else - in other words, if he didn't have the ability.
Kevin, or ‘Pep’ as he was known to his teammates, wasn't just a bowler. His size also lent himself to some big hitting when he came out to bat. He certainly held his own as a batsman, though he tended to be very hit and miss – pun intended. His figures probably show he could have been an asset higher in the order, but that his value was in the lower middle order. While winners of the batting average award can sometimes be helped by late order not outs and runs against weaker teams, Kevin’s effort in winning the Harry Brown Trophy in 1985/86 was more a reflection on the lack of runs in the top order than any perceived ‘easy’ runs he himself may have made. He showed defensive capabilities when it was needed, but he was much more interested in hitting the ball to, or over, the boundary to ever become a serious top order batsman.
He played his first game for Kiama in Grade cricket on October 8, 1983 in 4th Grade. After just five matches in 3rd and 4th Grades, he bypassed 2nd Grade to make his 1st Grade debut against Albion Park Rail at Geoff Shaw Oval on January 21, 1984 as a fill-in, when he was still 14 years of age. He scored 12 runs in his trip to the crease, and took one wicket from his nine sparse overs spread over the two innings of that match. After this, he played the final two matches of the season in 2nd Grade, where he scored 52, 36 not out, 6 and 68 in his four innings, and with the ball took 3/34, 2/25 and 3/67.
The following season, with Kiama’s 1st Grade team still strong and competitive (reaching the final), he played all but one game in 2nd Grade, his one 1st Grade appearance coming in a match against Gerringong where he only played the first weekend when Kiama batted most of the day, his contribution being a second ball duck.
His season in 2nd Grade can be seen to be defining of his characteristics as a cricketer. He was still playing Under 16 cricket every Saturday morning, and partly as a result of this he was often a reluctant afternoon cricketer, and when games were played at Bonaira Street Oval near Kendall’s Beach, it was the surf where he spent more time than on the cricket field. When batting, he was rarely more interested than trying to find the boundary no matter what the situation of the match, and his bowling was dependant on his motivation. On occasions he was unplayable and treacherous, such as against Lake Illawarra at Bonaira Street Oval in the last game before the Christmas break in 1984. ‘Pep’ had been stung by some criticism of him in an Under 16’s game that morning, while at Grade training that week it had been suggested that he wasn’t worth his place in the team, and that a couple of medium pacers in 3rd Grade who were starting to show some good figures may well be a better bet than he was. (Let me assure you that this wasn’t a well thought out argument, as one of the medium pacers being referred to in that conversation was your humble correspondent, and there was a huge difference in the seam bowling ability between Kevin Pepper and myself). Combine these two scenarios and ‘Pep’ had found his motivation to perform. Defending 217 from the week before (Scott Butler top scoring with a windmill-wielding 135), ‘Pep’ was at his fiery best, ripping out the top order in a trice, before returning late to take two more wickets and conceding almost no runs. He finished with 5/38 off 29 overs, and was only unable to finish off the tail from sheer exhaustion.
Unfortunately, that kind of motivation wasn’t always there to help inspire him to greater rewards. However, after the New Year break ‘Pep’ retained that form, and soon put behind his slow start to the cricket year. He finished that season with 25 wickets at 13.72, and his apprenticeship in the lower Grades had concluded.
For someone so naturally talented, Kevin’s training regime was perhaps a reflection of the completely amateurish preparation of teams during the 1980’s – although in many ways it is still true today. ‘Pep’ would show up at training whenever the surf died off at Kendall’s Beach. He’d lope in with that lop-sided grin of his, and drawl away in conversation to the batsmen padding up beside the nets. These batsmen would be keen to keep him in conversation, because if they could do so until they went in to bat, he would still have to get his shoes on, find a ball, mark out a run and be prepared to go before he could get at them. But even then, you never knew which Kevin Pepper was turning up to train. Most of the time, he would just roll in off two steps and send down a ball at about 50 to 75% velocity (still enough to dispose of lower Grade batsmen), which he would do for half a dozen deliveries over the course of fifteen minutes, before maybe looking to pad up himself, or just deciding to slink off back to the surf or home. On some days though, if someone had been in his ear or he just wanted to blow off some steam, he would come off an almost full length run, pound in, and hone in on the poor net batsmen with short thunderbolts, before producing the perfect yorker to crash into the stumps or (on some unfortunate occasions) the unprotected feet or ankles of the batsman.
On one memorable afternoon, a fellow teammate had suggested at school during the day that ‘Pep’ had lost it, and wouldn’t even be able to dismiss him in the nets that afternoon. Well, the challenge had been laid down, and in all honesty, the person in question probably thought that ‘Pep’ would be more likely to be at the surf that day than at training. But no, ‘Pep’ was there straight after school, and he was charging off the full run. The antagonist was in no position to back down, and so in he went. Now remember, this was in the days before helmets, and there are not a lot of places to hide in a batting net. For ten minutes this batsman faced four bowlers in his net, meaning every fourth ball he faced was from Kevin Pepper with his back up. With each delivery, the batsman in question was backing further and further away at the point of delivery, but no matter how far away he was, ‘Pep’ was still able to find him, collecting him on arms, legs, wrists, hands, fingers, ribs and back. On his final delivery, the batsman was literally back up against the leg side net, a metre and a half away from the stumps, as the ball was delivered. ‘Pep’ still found him. As he walked out of the net, ‘Pep’ simply looked at him with the hint of a smile and said, “You know, you were right. I couldn’t get you out today”.
The following season, Paul ‘Bubble’ Stewart made a similar faux pas, mentioning to all around him that “I haven’t been dismissed in the nets this season”. This was like petrol to a flame, as ‘Pep’ went from just sauntering around the bowling crease to moving back towards a full run. For the next ten minutes, the sound most heard in that net was the pinging of metal stumps being knocked over, and the wave of laughter from the other bowlers in the net getting louder and louder. ‘Bubble’ was bowled on no less than nine occasions during that session, the majority of those by ‘Pep’. Just because he could.
Freed from the shackles of having to play junior cricket in the morning, the 1985/86 season saw ‘Pep’ graduate to 1st Grade full time, and it was a season which showed the full talents of the now 16 year old. In a season where Kiama missed the 1st Grade finals for the first time in four years, ‘Pep’ was one of the few shining lights. In the 13 games he appeared in, he only made it to the crease with bat in hand on nine occasions. On three of those he remained not out. His aggregate of 172 runs at an average of 28.67 was enough for him to win the Harry Brown Trophy as leading Kiama batsman in 1st Grade for the season.
But it was his bowling where he excelled. In Round 2 he destroyed Gerringong in their one day game, taking 6/27 in Kiama’s victory. Against Albion Park Rail in Round 4 he finished with match figures of 7/47. Wickets didn’t always follow good bowling. In the following match against Shellharbour he finished with 1/16 off his 10 overs in the one day fixture, but with three dropped chances and numerous deliveries beating the outside edge, it could have been so much better.
With 1st Grade’s season floundering, and an outright victory required, ‘Pep’ stepped up again in the penultimate round to try and wrest a victory. Once again ‘Pep’ was beset by bad luck, his 17 overs bringing 1/34. He was then promoted to number three in the batting order to look for quick runs, his 17 off ten balls helping the team to declare with a lead of 44 runs. On the second weekend, ‘Pep’ came into his own, tearing in from the northern end at Keith Grey Oval, taking seven of the first eight wickets to fall, helping to bowl out Albion Park for just 129. Though Kiama fell 25 runs short in chasing the outright (they needed 85 off 8 overs), ‘Pep’ had proven his worth. His 15 overs in the second innings produced his best figures of 7/36.
His season tally of 34 wickets at 15.91 was his best finish for a cricket season, and combined with his batting made Kevin an all-rounder to be reckoned with.
Ironically, ‘Pep’ then missed the first half of the following season, not playing until after Christmas, so that he could focus on his HSC exams. ‘Pep’ was as committed to school as he occasionally was on the cricket field - preferring to be in the surf or indulging in other ... err... passions... and not overly interested about the studying side of things. So when he didn't play in order to complete his exams (and once they had finished, to complete his partying) it was somewhat of an oxymoron. The fact that he then failed, and instead repeated his final year of school (with even more disastrous results), but still played cricket for the SECOND half of the season, even as he was repeating Year Twelve, it made that lost half a season seem to be a little strange.
There was no such mistake in the 1987/88 season. ‘Pep’ was there from the start of the season, and perhaps his batting was what kept him inspired from the outset. In the first round match against Lake Illawarra he finished 40 not out after some lusty hitting late in the innings. But better was to come.
In the second game of the season, Kiama took on Jamberoo at Kevin Walsh Oval. Looking to build momentum, the batting had failed to fire again, and at 6/148 it had been left to ‘Pep’ to take control. It was one of his favourite scenarios. The ground was small, the situation cried out for someone to hit the team out of trouble, and the bowling attack was not the paciest going around. He began steadily, taking the singles and two's on offer, and hitting judiciously when the ball was pitched up or just a tad short. Partnerships ensued – 44 with Col Wright, 35 with Gavin Hartley, and 38 with Allan Piper. As wickets fell at the other end, Kevin held his head, and his individual total moved along with it.
At the fall of the ninth wicket, 15 year old Jason Wills appeared slightly nervously at the crease. Jason had made his debut in 1st Grade the previous weekend as a fill-in, but this was his first game as a 1st choice player. It was some years before he became the fearless stroke player that blazed runs to all parts of the field. On this day he was just a skinny kid at number eleven, coming in with his larger and more ebullient batting partner within sight of a 1st Grade century.
‘Pep’ had made his way to 68, and with the young number eleven at the crease, he began to take a few more liberties with the bowling. Two balls were swiped mightily into the adjoining public pool at the southern end, another into the trees that protected the rivulet and picnic area at the northern end. In a matter of overs he had moved into the nineties, and his young partner had managed to nibble three singles through the field that strangled him around the bat whenever he was on strike.
‘Pep’ knew he was getting close. Whether he knew exactly how many runs he was is now lost in the mist of time, but he knew enough to be forceful in his meeting with his new batting partner. "Forceful" probably isn't the correct word. "Intimidating" is probably closer to the mark. As they met in the middle of the wicket after ‘Pep’ had failed to retain the strike for the next over, Jason's instructions were clear. "Just block this bloke out, so I'll have the strike for the next over". And as they parted, there was one final word of advice "Don't fuck this up for me". Needless to say, despite his best and bravest efforts (Jason's words, not mine), the young number eleven was unable to complete his instructions as laid out, losing his stumps to Tony Hastings to the first ball of that over, and the innings concluded with ‘Pep’ stranded on 93 not out. Though he is unable to recall the precise words that were said to him, Jason assures me that they were not the most conciliatory words he has ever received from a partner upon his dismissal.
It was as a bowler, though, that ‘Pep’ made his reputation in our Club. He rarely used the bouncer as a weapon. His pace and size was fierce enough without having to resort to short pitched bowling. He wasn't a big swinger of the ball, but he could move the ball away from the batsman just enough to get the edge, especially when his pace had negated any attempt at footwork towards the delivery. He had a good off cutter that could scythe batsmen in half on occasions. His other great weapon was his line, which rarely wavered from a foot outside off stump. He would curse himself when he strayed onto the batsman’s pads. His line was most noticeable on the rare occasions that he played 2nd Grade, because he was far too good for 2nd Grade batsmen bowling that line. He would beat them time and again, but couldn't bring himself to straighten up for fear of getting down the leg side.
For those of us that played with him, it could be a frustrating time when it wasn't happening for him, because we knew just how destructive he could be. As has been related previously, it seemed at times that he was at his most dangerous when he was bowling against his own teammates at training, rather than against opponents on weekends. We wanted to see that Kevin Pepper turning up every week, making the opposing teams shake in their boots about having to face him.
For me, one particular afternoon will always stand out as the perfect example of what he could have been.
21st March, 1987. First Grade Semi-Final, Kiama Vs Shellharbour. Oakleigh Park, Warilla.
Imagine the atmosphere. Kiama – the minor premiers – have been shot out for just 140 after winning the toss and batting. The Kiama side, though a little shocked and sombre, still believe in themselves and their chances. They have good reason for doing so after the season they’ve had, finishing at the top of the table, and having escaped from some similar predicaments on their way. Shellharbour – the reigning premiers – are overjoyed. They’re lucky to be here at all, having just scraped into fourth spot in front of Jamberoo, some would say controversially. They know that in the time they have left on that first afternoon, they just need to survive. Make stumps with no wickets down, and it’s their day.
By the fence, 'Pep' is simmering. His contribution with the bat has been a duck, run out by the skipper trying to retain the strike, and the send off he received with it has not enlightened his mood. Kevin never believed in the benefits of a warm up, and this afternoon he just keeps pulling himself up and down, back and forth on the fence, allowing his frustration to simmer, eager to get amongst it. There was no need for motivation that day. He had only an hour to let loose, and he wasn't going to leave anything in the tank.
Running in from the northern end, Pep was a study in beauty. The fluid approach to the wicket was like watching a steam train rocketing along the tracks, momentum and speed building as he thundered toward the crease. He charged at top speed until within a metre of the umpire, at which point he exploded into his delivery stride, the force of his boots making the bails quake under his feet. His release sent the ball careering toward the far end at an exhilarating speed.
There is no way to say what the batsmen had in their minds that afternoon – whether they were approaching the final hour of the day as a period in which to score quick runs, or to ensure their wickets were intact for the run chase the following day. No matter what they were thinking, the truth was the only thing they could concentrate on that afternoon was survival – both batting-wise and physically-wise. Pep was on fire, attacking the batsmen with ferocity, short of a length and making them jump around the crease. And those on show weren't mugs – Ian Grant, Greg Harvey, Barry Pearson. But that afternoon they were like ducks in a shooting gallery. They played and missed, they fended away, they ducked missiles, they took blows on the body.
It was awesome to watch from where I was fielding at backward point. I was probably a bit close, certainly if the batsmen began to slash at the ball. In reality though there was going to be none of that on that afternoon. The ball was coming at them so quickly that they barely had time to poke at the ball than to wind up and give it a bit of heave-ho. The only thing that was going to be coming to me was something off the top of the bat, possibly via glove, chest and head. Shellharbour were on top, but no one wanted to be batting that afternoon.
In his spell of six overs that afternoon, 'Pep' finished with two wickets for just six runs, all from edges. Grant was caught at backward square leg trying to fend off a vicious bouncer. Harvey had his off stump plucked out of the ground with his feet rooted outside leg stump. The not out batsmen overnight would both have sported bruises from the attack they faced that afternoon. Kevin's spell that afternoon had the whole Kiama team believing it had the winning of the game the following day.
The next day 'Pep' was still fast, but without the venom of the previous evening. He, along with everyone else, had the stuffing knocked out of his sails when, with Shellharbour teetering at 4/29, Rob Jordan was dropped at second slip by Stuart Holmes off the first ball he faced. At 5/29 and the top order gone, the game would have been almost over. As it turned out, this was still true. Jordan went on to score 139, and the game for Kiama was lost.
'Pep' finished with 3/36 from 20 overs in that match in one of his more memorable performances. In all 1st Grade matches he took 75 wickets at 18.35, with a best return of 7/36 against Albion Park, and scored 591 runs at 19.71, with a best of 93 not out against Jamberoo. The figures tell the story of a player who had the potential to be a destroyer, but failed to take full advantage of it.
In the end 'Pep' just wandered out of the game. Unpaid fees hindered any real chance of returning in later years, though the likelihood of him doing so was never strong. Occasionally during an off season you could run into him at the Grand Hotel or at Tory’s Hotel, where over a schooner he would speak of being keen to have another crack – a thought that probably left his conscious the second you shook hands and parted company. In the end the promise of youth was allowed to rest without any real regret on his part, but maybe just a little from those that occasionally played with him.
