To stand out among the standouts takes someone special. Alyssa Healy is just that

There is a saying in professional sport that “after you retire all that is left is the numbers”, and Healy’s numbers are spectacular for NSW, the Sydney Sixers, Australia, in the Women’s Premier League and The Hundred. In 123 ODIs, 162 T20Is and 10 Tests, she produced more than 7000 runs. Perhaps her one regret is a top Test score of 99.

Behind the sticks, she snared 172 catches. But perhaps the most revealing numbers come from her T20I victims: 65 catches to go with 63 stumpings – a rarefied ratio.

The numbers will be added to in her final series against India in the coming weeks. It is difficult to compare wicketkeeping techniques and eras as that profession is so often judged by errors rather than successes. “Silky” is a descriptor oft used for movement that appears effortless under pressure, a golf swing with a title on the line, a goal kicker needing depth and accuracy, a basketballer shooting the three-pointer; Adam Scott, Nathan Cleary, John Aloisi, Eddie Betts, Josh Giddey, you get the picture.

Consistent silky glove work is inherent to great keepers. The physical challenges of the job can so easily impair the efficacy, yet Healy would be slick from first ball until the last. Off balance batters were silently pickpocketed, bails removed seemingly before the zing had a chance to.

Maybe the qualities are intrinsic to Healy DNA?

Uncle Ian’s keeping up to the maestro Shane Warne featured the “silk”, becoming a magic part of the Warne supremacy. Stumpings run in the family.

An uncle and niece both wicketkeeping for their country – hard to believe.

Wicketkeepers set the tone for team attitudes in the field: some are loud and unmissable, irritating, putting opponents down and dragging teammates forward; others softly cajole, getting to the stumps every ball, cleaning up wayward throws, a subtle nod and wink to a fielder or bowler in recognition of good work or higher expectations.

Sometimes correspondence with the batters is helpful with suggestions that certain strokes are required, or not. Different teams need different methods. Healy was very much the latter; her presence undeniable, but subtle; her cheeky grin a sign of enjoyment rather than torment.

The traditional role of the wicketkeeper has been the vice-captaincy. They see all the angles and know the bowlers’ foibles and the batters’ early movements. Her elevation to full-time captaincy when Meg Lanning retired in 2023 was natural and successful.

And there is Healy’s batting. She made her debut for the Breakers as a batter when Leonie Coleman was the incumbent and Jodie Fields had the national gloves.

The evolution of the women’s game has been characterised by a greater athleticism and the desire to hit the ball over the fence. Healy, when elevated to open, took on the bowlers from ball one. Her stroke play had once been described as “reckless”, but there was deep calculation as to what strokes worked best in the power plays. Sometimes that works and sometimes that doesn’t, but there is a certain audacity to trying it all.

There is more room in the air, apparently.

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Clark was ruthless with the bat, uncompromising and unrelenting, but Healy ripped the game away from defensive bowlers. As the T20 game, in particular, evolved to higher scoring rates it was Healy leading the revolution. The WBBL was not so much made for her as made by her.

The Perry-Healy combination at the top of the order was intimidating: caught Healy bowled Perry took on caught Marsh bowled Lillee proportions.

In 1934, the Peden sisters, Margaret and Barbara, daughters of the President of the Legislative Council Sir John Peden, fairly blazed the trail for women’s cricket. They were allowed to keep their maiden names even though they were married, because they were so well known at the time. For once, the silky wicketkeeper isn’t setting the example.

Well played “Midge”, an inspiration and ornament to the great game.