A record Ashes crowd at the Melbourne Cricket Ground paused at 3.50pm on Friday to honour Shane Warne, tipping their caps in tribute to the Australian great whose legacy continues to echo through the game and its grandest stage.
The moment, set to be observed on each day of the Test, is timed to reflect Warne’s Test cap number 350 and will see past greats including Ricky Ponting, Michael Vaughan and Ian Botham join the tribute by removing their floppy hats, a nod to the headwear Warne famously preferred in the field.
The gesture unfolded against the backdrop of a historic Boxing Day Test.
Twenty wickets fell as the hosts batted again, holding a 46-run lead, while the green-tinged pitch ensured the contest swung from session to session.
A crowd of 94,199 packed into the MCG, setting a new record for the highest attendance on a single day of Test cricket.
It surpassed the previous mark of 93,013 set during the 2015 ICC World Cup final between Australia and New Zealand, and eclipsed the 91,112 who attended Day 1 of the 2013 Boxing Day Test between Australia and England.
The occasion also carried deep personal meaning for Warne’s family. Ahead of the match, his son Jackson spoke about what it has meant to carry his father’s legacy in public and how the tribute has grown beyond memory into something more personal and healing.
Warne’s connection with the Boxing Day Test remains indelible. It was at the MCG that he claimed both his first Test hat-trick and his 700th Test wicket, milestones that helped define a career that reshaped leg-spin bowling.
Speaking outside the ground on Wednesday, near the statue that honours his father, Jackson recalled a moment inside the MCG museum that caught him off guard.
“There is a hologram of him at the MCG museum talking about his career and it is so realistic that the first time I saw it after Dad passed I was like, whoa. I just wanted to go up there and hug him,” he told The Telegraph.
Grief, he said, has settled into quieter routines. Even driving has become a space where he still speaks to his father, as if he were sitting beside him.
“I talk to him all the time when I am driving. I had this weird dream a few days after Dad passed. We used to love racing each other while driving. Dad was always a lot faster than me so I would always lose,” Jackson said.
“A few days after he passed, in my dream I was driving, he was on the left, and we were smiling at each other. All of a sudden after a few seconds our cars merged and I was in the driver’s seat of his car. When I looked to the left, he was not there. I kept driving, then I woke up.”
There are, he said, still moments when the number 350 or familiar initials appear unexpectedly, turning memory into something that feels closer than absence.
