Tough at the top

Justin Langer was lucky to survive his first Test. A late call-up for Damien Martyn in 1992-93, he debuted at Adelaide for the one-run loss to West Indies in their final throes of Australian dominance. Langer, then 22, was fortunate to remember the occasion after a second-innings Ian Bishop bouncer smashed into his helmet.

Dazed, wobbling and suddenly insecure, Langer shook off the doubts and the ringing to fight for 54 against an attack also including Courtney Walsh and Curtly Ambrose. The second-last man out, he watched Craig McDermott and Tim May creep within two runs of victory before Walsh terminally intervened. Relief came when senior team-mates told him Test cricket would not get any tougher. They were only partly right.

It is Langer's ability to bounce back from hard knocks, particularly to his helmet, that has him preparing for his 100th Test at Johannesburg on Friday. The late Kerry Packer, surprised at the number of blows the batsman took to the head, once snapped to Langer that World Series Cricket's protection inventions saved his life. Many things have revived Langer over his three-step career as he evolved from gutsy but limited shot-maker to high-performing No. 3, and finally, most spectacularly, into the back page of a world-beating opening partnership. With Matthew Hayden, the pair has averaged 52.56 an innings while scoring 5315 runs in partnership, and is behind only Gordon Greenidge and Desmond Haynes.

Like most of Australia's best batsmen, Langer's lasting success did not arrive with the speed of airmail. The nearest of the near-death experiences came on the 2001 Ashes tour when he was squeezed out in a reshuffle that promoted Ricky Ponting to first drop and installed Martyn at six. For most of the tour Langer was a shadow around hotel rooms. In the first four Tests he watched Hayden, Slater and Ponting and most expected an international flat-line after the flight home to Perth.

Resuscitation came at The Oval as Australia's management tried to wake up Michael Slater and Langer slotted in as opener for the second Test of his career. It could have been a thanks-for-the-memories sign off as reward for his 41 matches. Instead his renaissance came with familiar head-shaking.

This time Andy Caddick laid him flat, but when he retired hurt and started out for hospital he was 102 and off life support. "As a five-foot-nothing top-order batsman I have had my fair share of hits on the helmet," he said. "Caddick's bouncer felt different and for the second time in my life I saw stars and felt a light sensation making its way through my body."

Having seen both the tunnel and the light, Langer reinvented himself as a punchy, powerful shot-maker, although he still battles the stereotype of a dour accumulator from the days when an Australian radio commentator said he'd rather watch bananas brown than Langer bat. Not only had he replaced Slater at The Oval, he was about to outscore him. The traditional all-stopping engine was becoming a global express and regular hooking, cutting and driving joined the timetable.

Despite a career strike-rate of 53.71, a mark higher than contempories Slater, Martyn and the Waughs, he has been considered too stodgy for ODIs and has only eight next to 99 Tests. The imbalance worries him less now and this summer his main concerns have been injuries as he missed his first Tests since uniting with Hayden in south London. Rib and hamstring problems have caused annoying disruptions and he enters the dead rubber against South Africa without a century in a southern hemisphere season for the first time in five years, although his 99 against West Indies in Adelaide almost counts.

Laid bare, Langer is seventh on Australia's list of run-scorers with a haul of 7393 at 45.35 against the best bowlers of the strong 1990s group and the easier pickings of the 2000s. The 22 hundreds have prominently carried his side out of corners and extended unthinkable advantages such as the 16-match winning streak, but he has also been part of endearing off-field moments.

Having saved his career - again - with 127 against Pakistan in Hobart in 1999-2000, Langer's father Colin ran up to him as he left the ground for a hug that seemed to mean more than the chase of 369 he orchestrated with Adam Gilchrist. In end-of-successful-day interviews his squeaky yet coarse voice leaves listeners in no doubt as to the difficulties of Test intensity, even without phrases such as "it was a battle of two warriors". And as the lead disciple of Steve Waugh he has talked publicly about his other loves and disciplines such as family, rose gardens and martial arts that add history to a stare that mixes steel and warmth depending on the location.

Dressed in his life-saving helmet, Langer takes on the look of a miner working by lamp light. He is forever belting away and succeeding in his efforts to increase his capabilities from what started out as a limited workspace. Dependable and attractive stages have been chipped out during his life as a central beam in Australia's best modern team and there is still air in his career at 35. The ever-improving headgear has assisted his survival, but like the debut advice from his team-mates, it is only part of the lesson.