Justin Langer: The UK trip which made me reflect on what really matters

When I arrived at Heathrow Airport 36 years ago, I had no idea my life was about to change for the better.

An hour-and-a-half after touching down, the tyres of the car I was in rolled over a white-stone driveway and up to a set of wooden electric gates in North London.

Two German Shephard dogs, Elli and Elsa (as I was about to discover), were barking as the gates slowly opened.

When I walked into the kitchen to meet a gentleman by the name of Nigel Wray, my life changed in ways I could never have predicted.

Nigel had turned 40 that day. All I knew of him from what I had been told was that he was a very successful businessman who loved cricket and rugby and who had one of the great memorabilia collections in the world.

We had exchanged letters and spoken a couple of times over the phone but, other than our written or spoken words, we were strangers.

I had been instructed to call Nigel, ‘Mr Wray’, by the mate, or at least cricket coach in Perth, who had arranged the introduction. “Respect is of paramount importance”, he had often reminded me.

The common thread between ‘Mr Wray’ and I, was that I wanted to play a season of cricket in England, and ‘Mr Wray’s’ club, the Old Millhillians, were looking for a young overseas player to help them hopefully win a few games.

Plan all set, never in my wildest dreams would I have thought this meeting, this moment, and the thousands of moments since, would become such an integral part in my, and my family’s, lives.

Besides the crunching of the stones under the tyres, barking Alsatians at the gates, and most extraordinary house I had ever seen, it was Nigel himself who surprised me the most.

Extending my nervous 18-year-old, hand to ‘Mr Wray’ in his kitchen, I was taken aback when he laughed saying: “Mr Wray? No, no, no, please, my name is Nigel. Calling me Mr Wray makes me feel old.”

Instantly relieved, we have been friends ever since. His humility was comforting. It still is today.

This week I pulled up to the same brown gates that I did all those years ago, and although I was greeted by different dogs — this time Charlie, Bruno, Bobby and Lulu — wonderful memories flooded back from the place I call my second home.

Thirty-six years has gone like the blink of any eye, but over the last few days I have been reflecting on how much has changed, and yet, how much has remained the same.

Back in 1988 I sat in one of the very back seats of the plane, surrounded by plumes of cigarette smoke, listening to a couple of favourite CD’s on my Walkman headset while watching the movie that was playing through the single monitor that extended from the roof of the plane after take-off.

Nigel and I had communicated through a couple of very expensive telephone calls, made through our family dial-up phone, and we had sent each other letters through the old, blue, airmail scripts.

Ringing home, I would ‘reverse charge’ call to Mum and Dad, or put coins into the red telephone box’s, synonymous with overseas visits to London.

Times have changed, and now we communicate instantly through mobile phones, email, or social media.

The nervous wonderment of what the person on the other end of the line looks like is a problem of the past because we can now look them up on the internet or talk to them on a video call before we even meet. Placing a face to the voice is now so much easier than it used to be.

Today, we can listen to millions of songs, podcasts, or eBooks on the most extraordinary range of earphones, and the video monitors on a plane give you a choice of hundreds of movies — all at the touch of a button, or screen. Information is instant, not gleaned through an encyclopedia collection.

As for clouds of cigarette smoke in public places, including a 24-hour air flight, you must be kidding. The thought is laughable; actually, it is hysterically impossible, and yet ‘it was what it was’ back then.

Even the game of cricket has changed dramatically. Returning to Lord’s this week is a case in point.

It wasn’t until 1998 that women were first admitted as members of the MCC (Lord’s). This was a significant change, to say the least, for the male-only club for more than 200 years. Imagine that today.

In the same breath, there has been significant growth in women’s cricket, and sport in general, with increased investment, media coverage and professional leagues globally. It is awesome to watch.

The media centre at Lord’s was built in 1998 and its unique, futuristic design raised some eyebrows at the time; today it looks like it has been there forever.

Overlooking that media centre this week I have been a part of the MCC World Cricket Committee, and the inaugural Cricket Connects forum.

Both are designed to find an equilibrium through the constantly changing face of the game.

Since 1988, cricket has undergone significant changes across various aspects, including technology, formats, rules, and globalization. There is not enough space on these pages to talk about these.

But the most obvious transformation has been the emergence of Twenty20 cricket.

Today, it has gained massive popularity to the point where franchise leagues like the Indian Premier League (IPL) and Big Bash League (BBL) are played all around the world.

Some would say it is threatening the world game; others believe it is enhancing it. I would say it is just a part of the evolution.

Life, like sport, evolves with time. That is a reality, but as much as things have changed, others remain the same.

For example, wisdom, friendship, and mentorship.

That first year I met Nigel Wray and we had got to know each other, he gave me some honest advice.

He told me that I was kidding myself if the dream I would often talk about — of playing cricket for Australia — was to become a reality.

“You don’t practice more than everyone else,” he bluntly said. “You aren’t very fit. You are basically relying on natural talent. And I would be surprised if you are any better than a club cricketer if you keep going at this current rate.”

Bang!

His honesty was pivotal, and for me, life-changing. It was the wake-up call that steered me in the right direction.

At the time his advice was tough. But thank goodness he gave it to me. Great advice is great advice, regardless of the generation or passing of time.

Nigel also promised me if I ever played Test cricket he would be there to watch. And he was. Flying from London to Adelaide with 24 hours’ notice. Promises are promises. That never changes. He also flew to Johannesburg for my 100th Test.

When I was first dropped from the Australian team, it was Nigel who wrote me a letter saying: “Life is not a straight line, but rather a sequence of ups and downs hopefully headed in a mostly upward direction. Hang in there, keep working hard and everything will work out OK.”

It was Nigel who introduced me to the influential poem ‘IF’ by Rudyard Kipling which sits on the wall of my study. Only this week he shared with me another poem called, ‘MYSELF’, which sits in his daughter Lucy’s office at her home.

In his house, Nigel literally has hundreds and hundreds of books, many of which he has sent me through the years, and many which have enhanced my knowledge of life. You can learn anything from reading the wisdom of others.

Today those words come in different formats, other than just books, but at the end of the day, wisdom is wisdom.

Matching the shelved literature at his property, are just as many framed pictures and photo albums. Adorning the walls and shelves, it is these that turn his magnificent house into a home. A home full of memories of loved ones and prized moments.

Despite his success in business, it has been these photos and cherished relationships that have inspired me as much as his achievements in the corporate world, as incredible as they have been.

Time does fly and things do evolve. Cricket might have changed, but whether it be 1988 or 2024, it’s still a game between bat and ball, human and human.

Similarly, our lives evolve through technology, communication and societal expectations, but at the end of the day human decency, humility, family, friends, and encouragement, are what make us happy. They never change.

I am blessed that back in 1988 and all the way through to 2024 I have met people like Nigel Wray who constantly remind me of this.