Even his most ardent admirers may admit to a case of Scott Pendlebury fatigue right now. So let’s begin by getting a few words out of the way. Time. Space. Basketball. Saunas. Ice baths. Let’s also put aside some of the more tedious elements of the buildup to his record-breaking game – the gold-plated number, the multiple and lucrative costume changes, the signature wine range, the standing ovation at the 10-minute mark, and the discussion over whether he should have been rested or not.
Emotionally, technically and physically, Pendlebury has much in common with his fellow 400-gamers who gathered at the MCG this week. All of them were wily enough to avoid grievous harm on the field. All of them were temperamentally sound, and weren’t the type of personalities to let the outside noise seep in. And all of them avoided the kind of vices and distractions that can curtail sporting longevity.
