This article was written for the 80th birthday of Sir Donald Bradman and was published in the Sydney Morning Herald. Today 12 years on it gives us an insight into the man behind the legend.

The Don at 80: another century beckons

Sir Donald Bradman has repaired to a retreat for his 80th birthday today. The man who spent the first 40 years of his life making certain of his immortality has spent much of the next 40 years trying to live with the uniqueness of his mortality.

Perhaps Australia's best-known citizen, he has guarded his privacy so obsessively that he has lived at arms length from society for much of the past 20 years.

In a sense, his remoteness and inaccessibility have added another dimension to the legend of "The Don" - a legend that has intensified, not diminished, as summers have passed.

Without question the greatest of all batsmen, Sir Donald has been concerned in recent months that his 80th birthday could become a media event.

His distrust of the media, despite a one-time association, borders on contempt. Consequently the shutters, opened unusually wide for much of this Bicentennial year, have been fixed firmly back in place.

Wherever he is today he will be surrounded by those closest to him.

As ever, Jessie, Lady Bradman, a woman of considerable warmth, charm and good humour, will be at his side. Without exception, those closest to Sir Donald speak in the most glowing terms about his wife, an adept and generous hostess long renowned for her charity and community work. And those who are not fond of the enigmatic cricketing genius also speak readily about the graciousness of Lady Bradman.

Their son John who will be 50 next year, and their 47 year old daughter Shirley, will drink their father's health and quietly observe him doting on his grandchildren. Sir Donald rejoices in spending time with Marguretta, 9, and Tom, 7, on John's property in the Adelaide Hills.

By all accounts, Tom is too preoccupied with loving and tending his animals to worry much about sporting pursuits, while Marguretta, who is called Gretta, has won her grandfather's heart yet again by learning to play piano.

In quieter moments, Sir Donald still plays his beloved Brinsmead grand piano in a drawing-room furnished in part with elegant and priceless trophies, each representing a special achievement during his phenomenal 22 year career.

Like Lady Bradman, he is a meticulous gardener with a good knowledge of horticulture - and viticulture, for that matter - but by no means has Sir Donald devoted his retirement years exclusively to passive pursuits.

He remains impressively fit and walks briskly between holes at the two golf clubs of which he is a member, Kooyonga and Royal Adelaide. Rarely does he take more than two and a half hours for 18 holes and generally plays at least twice a week.

Always an exceptional golfer, he won his first major trophy, the Mount Osmond club championship in Adelaide, in 1935. Nowadays he plays off 11 or 12.

Apparently unaffected by the arthritic wrist which so irked him and hampered his golf a few years back, he bettered his age earlier this year, carding 76 off the championship tees at Kooyonga - one of Australia's finest courses - to win the A-grade medal with 64.

It was never revealed whether Sir Donald shouted at the bar, but he sometimes enjoys a half brandy and an animated chat at the 19th, just as he relaxes with a white wine at lunch when helping senior office-bearers of the South Australian Cricket Association entertain interstate and overseas luminaries at Adelaide Oval during the summer.

That he is a teetotaller is one of the myths surrounding Sir Donald. Although he is a very moderate drinker he does take an occasional brandy and enjoys a fine wine with his meals. He also boasts an impressive knowledge of wines and wine-growing areas throughout the country.

He keeps some fine spirits and wines in the drinks cabinet - he takes umbrage at its being termed a bar - presented to him by the SACA in recognition of his 100th first-class century.

Sir Donald and Lady Bradman have always been regarded as exceptional hosts: some of their guests believe cricket's first family has committed to memory the preferred food and drink of guests entertained regularly over the years.

If that were the case, it would not surprise those who have observed Sir Donald closely. He prides himself on the knowledge of many and varied subjects and has always carried out his research in the most thorough manner. Some would say he is meticulous; others that he is pedantic; and most would say he is an exacting man who is used to having his own way.

At the same time he is generally thought to have mellowed in recent years. His intellect is well known and many people throughout the cricket world talk with affection of the great mind as well as the great talent he brought to the game.

Essentially conservative and a stickler for protocol, he is not without a sense of humour. But he rarely seems to indulge himself. For instance, there is no evidence of a calculated distraction or a whimsical purchase since he bought a remote-control attachment for his garage door six years ago. These days the garage door begins to open as soon as he turns his silver Sigma into his tree lined street in Adelaide.

It was about that time that Sir Donald had to replace the goldfish after an impertinent hound wandered into his frontyard. The dog's owner - Australian cricket's "Mr Chips", John Inverarity - was mortified.

Although 40 years have elapsed since Sir Donald left the first class stage, cricket's "royal watchers" still drive up and down the street in the hope of catching a glimpse of him.

Occasionally an admirer will emerge from a car or from behind a parked vehicle and ask him for his signature. Although he secretly resents such an intrusion while he is weeding, pruning or just pottering in the garden, he will oblige.

People regularly associated with Sir Donald are amazed at the number of requests he receives for his autograph and for suggestions of forewords to books.

Highly self-disciplined and organised, he sets aside a certain amount of time each day to attend to correspondence, much of which comes from India. He answers some of it from his study at home and the rest from a city office he retains in premises belonging to Cutten and Pentelow Pty Ltd, share brokers, where it is believed he still undertakes some consultancy work.

Much of the correspondence is directed to his close friends within the international cricket community, notably Sir George (Gubby) Allen, 86, at his St Johns Wood home with its back gate leading into Lords, near the entrance to the museum. These two knights are probably the most influential cricket administrators of this century.

Sir Donald also corresponds regularly with 72-year-old Bob Parish and other luminaries of cricket administration in Australia since World War II and occasionally writes to Malcolm Gray, the chairman of the Australian Cricket Board. Although Sir Donald makes certain he remains abreast of trends in cricket administration throughout the world, he is no longer formally consulted by either the SACA or ACB.

On his return from this year's International Cricket Conference meeting in London, Gray paused in Bangkok. To his surprise he was interviewed - on cricketing matters - by a Sri Lankan reporter representing the English-language newspaper The Nation Review.The scribe told Gray effusively of the excitement he felt at Sir Donald's approaching 80th birthday.

If Sir Donald does not type his letters they are written in a strong, imposing hand. And it is said that those who forget to include a stamped, self-addressed envelope - particularly young enthusiasts on the subcontinent - still receive the precious signature.

He set foot on Indian soil only once and never played there, but he is regarded as a deity throughout the subcontinent. Last year the West Bengal Government considered erecting a statue of Sir Donald alongside a memorial to Mahatma Gandhi in the heart of Calcutta.

The mass-circulating magazine Sportstar, which is produced by the publishers of the Madras broadsheet, The Hindu, has released a special edition to mark Sir Donald's 80th birthday.

There has been an exceptional demand for his autograph this year, which has seen the publication by Rigby's of The Bradman Albums - proceeds of which went to the Crippled Children's Association - and the broadcasting by the ABC of Bradman, The Don Declares.

When there is a build up of the Albums to be signed, or any number of his five important books of the game, programs, bats, balls and miscellaneous cricket memorabilia - Sir Donald is summoned to Adelaide Oval by Ray Sutton, the SACA's cricket co-ordinator.

Though he is often seen as a distant, even aloof figure, those who have spent time with him in recent years consider him to be most companionable. Certainly they are very protective of him, particularly when the media is involved.

Recently Sir Donald wrote privately that his aversion to the media had, if anything, intensified in recent times, and he gave the impression that he would not provide any more major interviews.

One senses he is satisfied that his obligation to posterity was met with the release of The Bradman Albums and the ABC recordings.

No-one it seems, escapes adulation unscarred. Sir Donald has had to confront much sadness in his personal life, which perhaps strengthened his resolve to remain a private person.

His son, John, born in 1939, three years after the death of the Bradman's infant son, was afflicted by poliomyelitis was a young teenager. He made a full recovery from the virus but continued to suffer because he was the son of Don Bradman.

In 1972 John changed his name by deed poll. At that time Sir Donald said: "Only those who have to live with the incessant strain of publicity can have any idea of its impact".

Daughter Shirley was born with cerebral palsy. Lady Bradman, who had heart bypass surgery several years ago, and her husband have had periods of indifferent and poor health.