Adam Gilchrist's Secret Squash Ball in Glove

Adam Gilchrist was arguably the most destructive wicketkeeper-batsman in the history of Test cricket. His ability to come in at number seven, survey the situation, and immediately begin dismantling the bowling attack with a combination of power, timing, and near-total disregard for survival instincts transformed Australian cricket in the late 1990s and 2000s. He scored hundreds at a strike rate that was, for his era, almost offensively fast, and he did it in Test matches, where the conventional wisdom demanded patience.

The 2006-07 Ashes was Gilchrist's final series against England in Australia, and Australia entered it as overwhelming favourites. England, the defending champions having won in 2005, were a weakened side touring with limited confidence. The Adelaide Test was notable for producing one of the great moments of Ashes batting — and it came with a secret that Gilchrist, with characteristic transparency, revealed immediately afterwards.

Gilchrist's openness was a defining feature of his character. He had famously walked — given himself out — during a World Cup semi-final when the umpire didn't see an edge, in one of cricket's most celebrated acts of personal integrity. His decision to immediately reveal the squash ball rather than keep quiet about it was entirely consistent with that character. He knew it sounded absurd. He didn't mind.

Australia's World Cup campaign in 2006-07 was the backdrop for Gilchrist's squash ball revelation, specifically the semi-final against South Africa. But the Adelaide Ashes Test that December is the more famous context for the technique's public emergence. Gilchrist came in to bat with Australia in a commanding position and proceeded to attack the England bowling with typical ferocity.

The innings was remarkable for its pace and precision. England's bowlers, including Andrew Flintoff and Steve Harmison, found the ball disappearing to the boundary with uncomfortable regularity. Gilchrist's bottom-hand grip, always influential in his pulling and hooking, appeared particularly effective — his hands seemed loose and relaxed in a way that allowed him to generate tremendous power without tensing up. There was, it turned out, a reason for this.

After the innings, during what was meant to be routine post-match chat, Gilchrist mentioned the squash ball. Just casually, as if disclosing that he'd had a good pre-innings cup of tea. He'd been using it for a while, he said. It helped his grip. He'd found it kept his bottom hand relaxed. And yes, there it was — in his glove. Right there. The entire time. A squash ball.

After smashing a devastating 57-ball century to help Australia win the legendary Adelaide Ashes Test of 2006, Adam Gilchrist revealed a secret that left everyone both amused and baffled. He'd been batting with a squash ball stuffed inside his bottom-hand glove. Yes, a squash ball. The small, bouncy kind that people use in squash courts. Inside his cricket glove. During an Ashes Test.

The revelation that one of cricket's most destructive batsmen had been playing international cricket with a squash ball in his glove was met with a mixture of laughter and incredulity. Why? Gilchrist explained it was to keep his bottom hand relaxed and prevent him from gripping the bat too tightly, allowing his top hand to control the shot better. The explanation made perfect biomechanical sense. The execution was still inherently ridiculous.

The cricketing world reacted with bemused fascination. Club cricketers everywhere started stuffing squash balls in their gloves, usually with significantly less success than Gilchrist — discovering that having a squash ball in your glove was uncomfortable, distracting, and unlikely to turn you into a world-class batsman unless you were already Adam Gilchrist. Equipment companies were caught off guard. Coaches debated whether it was genius or madness.

The answer, as Gilchrist's stunning century proved, was genius — but the image of a man playing cricket with a children's toy in his glove remained inherently funny. It was like finding out Usain Bolt ran in flip-flops, or that Roger Federer played tennis with a ping-pong ball in his pocket. Some secrets, once revealed, can never be taken seriously again.

“I just put it in there to keep my hand relaxed. It keeps you from gripping too tightly. I've been doing it for a while.”

“Of course it's legal. Why wouldn't it be? He's got a squash ball in his glove. It's not performance enhancing — it's a squash ball.”

“I tried it in the nets. I scored no more runs than before. I think the secret ingredient was Gilchrist.”

“He told everyone about it immediately. That's Adam. No secrets, no edge — just here's what I do and why.”

The ICC launched a brief investigation to determine whether the squash ball constituted unfair play or use of illegal equipment. They found nothing in the Laws of Cricket that prohibited placing an object inside a batting glove for grip purposes. The squash ball was fully legal. The investigation was over almost before it started, which somewhat deflated those hoping for a major controversy.

The cricketing world reacted with the specific combination of bemusement and admiration that Gilchrist tended to generate. Coaching manuals were consulted. Sports scientists were asked about the biomechanics. The consensus was that Gilchrist's explanation was correct — a squash ball in the bottom hand does prevent over-gripping and promotes a more relaxed swing — but that using this information without being Adam Gilchrist was unlikely to reproduce Adam Gilchrist results.

Equipment manufacturers considered whether to produce cricket gloves with integrated squash balls, decided this was too niche, and moved on. Gilchrist continued to bat brilliantly, with or without auxiliary rubber objects, until his retirement in 2008.