Long before the dawn of the high-octane T20 revolution, arguably nobody hit the cricket ball with more raw power than Robin Smith. Shaped like a boxer but possessing the agile movement inherited from his mother, a ballet dancer, he unleashed strokes – notably his ferocious square cut – with such violence they dented in boundary hoardings and shattered the morale of opponents.
The cricketer's death comes after a lengthy battle with poor health, was a man riddled with paradox. On the surface, he was the very image of fearless, attacking batsmanship, renowned for thrilling battles with the world's fastest bowlers. But behind this facade of bravado existed a deeply insecure individual, a struggle he concealed while on the field but which later led to struggles against alcoholism and depression.
His fearlessness against pace could never be doubted. The motivation, however, involved a combination of pure grit and a self-confessed addiction to adrenaline. Many felt he was built differently, seeking out the brutal examination of facing extreme pace, a situation requiring instant responses and a high tolerance for pain.
This trait was never better displayed during an iconic innings of 148 not out representing his country versus the mighty West Indies at Lord's in 1991. On a difficult pitch, against the rampant two of the greatest fast bowlers in history, Smith stood firm he positively flourished, relishing the brutal exchange of intimidation and strokeplay. He later described the feeling was one of “electrified”.
Featuring mostly at number five or six, He earned caps for England across 62 Tests and 71 One-Day Internationals during an eight-year international span. He accumulated over four thousand Test runs with a mean of 43-plus, featuring nine three-figure scores. In the 50-over format, he gathered 2,419 ODI runs averaging nearing forty.
Perhaps his most ferocious knock occurred in 1993 in Birmingham against Australia, blasting 167 ruthless runs. It was such a domineering performance that even the then commendations from the Prime Minister, John Major. Sadly, a recurring theme, his team ended up losing the game.
Dubbed ‘the Judge’ due to an early hairstyle that looked like a judge's wig, his mean in Test cricket stands as commendable, especially considering he featured for a frequently defeated England team. It is widely felt his international career was ended too hastily by selectors after a difficult tour to South Africa in 1995-96.
As he later confessed, he existed as a dual personality: ‘the Judge’, the ruthless on-field warrior who loved a fight, and Robin Smith, a gentle, feeling individual. These two sides suppressed the other.
His fierce loyalty could also be his downfall. One well-known episode saw him defend fellow Hampshire player Malcolm Marshall from racist abuse at a team hotel. After words failed, Smith knocked out the main aggressor, a move resulting in a broken hand leading to six weeks of cricket.
Adapting to a world after professional sport proved exceptionally difficult. The buzz of the game gave way to the mundane realities of business. Ventures into a travel company did not succeed. Coupled with a strained relationship and serious money troubles, he fell victim to alcohol dependency and deep depression.
Relocating to Perth alongside his children offered a fresh start but failed to fix his core problems. In a moment of deep crisis, he contemplated suicide, before being talked back from the edge through the care of family and a neighbour.
He leaves behind his companion, Karin, his son and daughter, and his brother, Chris.
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