Michael Clarke opens up on his close friendship with Shane Warne

There wasn’t a time I couldn’t pick up the phone to Warnie. And when I last spoke to him days before his death, he seemed as happy as ever, writes Michael Clarke.

Cricket has always been a game of numbers and one simple number sums up my relationship with Shane Warne – 23.

Even though figures and scores are the essence of the game, unlike the AFL it was not a done thing in cricket for a shirt number to be handed down.

But all that changed when Warnie came up to me and told me he wanted me to take on his No. 23 that he wore in one-day cricket.

If he thought I was the right person and the right style of player to wear his jersey, I am forever grateful for that and I will hang onto that honour for the rest of my life.

Shane Warne and Michael Clarke after reclaiming the Ashes in Perth in 2006. Picture: Getty Images

For me, that simple act of handing me his number embodies the fact that he is the person who supported me more than anyone else.

No one understood me like Warnie and – more than anyone else I came across in my entire career – he allowed me to be completely myself.

The first time I met Warnie, it was surreal.

I idolised him, I looked up to him and he was the superstar of the sport I adored.

But from the day we met, I felt like we were friends.

One of the first times I ever went to Warnie’s house, I remember buzzing, but he’d already left the door open for me.

I walk in and I’m like, “King, where are you?”

And he’s in his lounge room, inside his own personal solarium with the goggles and Speedos on and a cigarette hanging out of his mouth.

That was Warnie.

I don’t know why he was so open, kind and generous and loving towards me from day one – but he was.

There wasn’t a time I couldn’t pick up the phone. There wasn’t a time I couldn’t cry. There wasn’t a time when, whatever it was I needed – he wouldn’t drop everything to be my friend.

That is what makes this so difficult.

Warne chats to Clarke at Lords in 2015. Picture: Getty Images

Warnie was so close with his kids. He had a best mate relationship with his son Jackson and he loved his daughters Brooke and Summer. He lived every single day but I also know there was so much more he wanted to do and that’s what breaks my heart.

Everyone is rightly talking about the legend that Warnie was.

If he’s not the greatest ever Australian cricketer, then he is equal to Sir Donald Bradman.

No one is bigger than the game, but Warnie is as close as it gets.

He is – as his No. 23 said – the Michael Jordan of cricket.

But all that stuff is secondary to the friend he became to me and so many others around the game.

Shane Keith Warne was loyal to the bone and would do anything for the people that he loved.

We spoke two days before he passed away last week and he seemed as happy as ever. I can’t think of too many times when the great man was sad. He always saw the best in every situation.

We planned when he came back I would fly to Melbourne and catch up. He had just picked up his new car and I was dying to take it for a spin.

Whether it was our love of cars or enjoying nothing more than sharing a room service meal together after a day’s play, we had so much in common outside of cricket and I think that’s where our friendship bonded.

I played under him at Hampshire in England and learnt a lot about captaining – specifically about his style of captaining – and there’s no doubt I took a bit of that into my own captaincy of Australia.

I was always willing to risk losing to win and that was always the way he played, and he wanted me to play the game with that aggressive approach and encouraged me to be involved in the game anywhere I could, rather than sit back.

He would pull me into line and tell me if I made a mistake or made an error, and don’t worry – he wouldn’t miss.

But he allowed me to be the person I wanted to be, from a young man when I first met him and then as a player and a captain of Australia

The people I played with for Australia saw how much Warnie had my back as a teammate.

And when he commented on my matches, even I used to think he was biased towards me! I’d get a duck and play a shit shot, and he’d say it was a good ball.

But I got twice as much support behind closed doors.

When I retired from Test cricket, he was the person I went to. We sat at the bar in Nottingham and I explained why I felt my time had come.

To be honest, he didn’t agree – he thought I should have kept playing and that I had a lot more time left in me.

But he understood my reasons and said, “mate, if you feel now is the time, then I support it.”

When I got married we didn’t tell anyone about the wedding – we just invited people to a pretend birthday celebration. Once they got there they found out it was our wedding.

But even though he thought it was just a birthday party, he was still willing to get on a plane all the way over in the UK and fly back to Australia for it.

What a legend. What a true friend he was.

Originally published as Michael Clarke opens up on his close friendship with Shane Warne