When Shane Warne met idol Bruce Springsteen, he was left ruing ‘an absolute dick’ moment

Shane Warne may have loved Bruce Springsteen as much as he loved cricket.

A self-confessed Springsteen tragic, Warne lost count of how many times he’d seen ‘The Boss’ in concert. “It would be in the 40s – something like 42 or 43,” he told me last year.

His first Springsteen show was at the Showground in Melbourne in the mid-1980s, aged 15. There was magic every time he saw him over the next 35 years.

Warne long had the means to go wherever he liked and meet whoever he wanted, yet was always in awe of Springsteen; a fellow working-class boy turned icon, a king of cool who kept the common touch.

‘The King of Spin’ counted Coldplay’s Chris Martin and Ed Sheeran as close friends but Bruce was his idol, his first musical love ... and the only person to ever leave him tongue-tied.

It was relatively early in Warne’s cricket career, well before he became the greatest spin bowler of all time. Their encounter was one between a global superstar and a wide-eyed Aussie fanboy when their paths crossed one night at an event in Melbourne.

Warne was as nervous as he ever got in his life. He eagerly asked Springsteen for a photo together. It went downhill from there.

“I’ve never done it with anyone else in my entire life but I was so nervous, I said ‘Bruce, do you mind smiling in the photo?’” Warne recalled.

“As I was saying it, I’m thinking, ‘What have I done?!’”

They call Springsteen ‘The Boss’ for a reason and the fresh-faced blond kid’s request wasn’t exactly met with its desired response.

“He looked at me and went, ‘Uh … yep’. So I’ve got the photo and I’ve got this awkward, embarrassed look on my face because I was just an absolute dick.

“I didn’t have any control over what I was saying. Then he walked off and I’m thinking, ‘That was my hero. The one person I idolised…’

“Hopefully I get another chance before it’s too late.”

He made that last comment with his trademark cheeky grin, unaware that he’d never get the opportunity.

Where’s that photo now? Hidden in a box somewhere, Warne said, hopeful it would never see the light of day.

Instead, Warnie had the painting.

*****

Anyone who’s ventured inside Warne’s man cave in Melbourne has seen the mural, which takes pride of place on the wall as you walk up the stairs. First you see the jukebox, then you see the painting.

You only need mention The Boss once on this day, an audience with The King last year, and Warne cranks up the volume on the jukebox and opens Spotify.

He barely gets through a minute of one song before he stops scrolling through Springsteen’s back catalogue and hits play on another one. The opening notes to Secret Garden play and he starts singing along.

A minute later and he’s off again: “Oh, you know this one…” and on goes No Surrender. That’s the only track that gets the full treatment that day and Warne sings every word.

“Now young faces grow sad and old / And hearts of fire grow cold / We swore blood brothers against the wind / Now I‘m ready to grow young again…”

But back to the mural. It’s bold and colourful, depicting a who’s who of mates, madmen, models and mentors that influenced Warne’s life.

There’s Jack Nicholson carrying a slab of VB. Angelina Jolie lies topless on a pool lounge. JFK, holding a stubby of Victor Bravo, chats to Marilyn Monroe, who’s wearing a bright pink swimsuit. Muhammad Ali is barefoot with his arms thrown high in the air in celebration; no booze for The Greatest. Mick Jagger holds a VB longneck and dips his legs in the pool as Frank Sinatra belts out a classic while kitted up in a sharp tuxedo.

Then, almost hidden away in a back corner, there they are. Shane and Bruce.

The painting has Springsteen’s famous Fender Telecaster leaning beside him. Instead of a pick, he holds a cricket ball and looks sideways at Warne, who’s leaning against a palm tree – the coolest of the cool – puffing on a cigar and drinking … yep, a VB.

This is the image Warne wanted of himself and Springsteen. Not the memory of the chubby-faced, star-struck kid whose lips moved too fast for his nervous brain.

That it didn’t actually happen? Ah, who cares. Just another piece of artistic deception as good as the Gatting Ball or the Googly.

Thinking about Warne in the days since his passing, one line from No Surrender sticks in my head. It’s the last line of the first verse of the only song Warne played in full when I was fortunate enough to spend a few hours with him.

“You say you’re tired and you just want to close your eyes / And follow your dreams down.”

If there’s some cold comfort that those of us who remain to watch cricket and listen to music can take out of this tragic past weekend, it’s that Shane Keith Warne did exactly that. He followed his dreams. Right to the very end.