Andy Capostagno : Cricket
Contrary to what you may have thought, the cricket season began this week. Specifically it began on Tuesday night at around 7.30pm in the Long Room at the Wanderers, the occasion being the launch of The Mutual and Federal South African Cricket Annual 1998.
The provinces have been applying WD40 to winter rust for a month now and last Friday Griquas beat Eastern Province in a match which may not be bettered if the season actually did go on for 12 months, rather than merely seeming that way during the dog days of March and April.
But cricket being the game it is, the season proper begins only when we have had time to look back at past deeds. So while the national squad may have been in Gauteng for some much needed practice before next week’s mini-World Cup in Bangladesh, Tuesday night at the Wanderers was an occasion to reflect on past glories (and stuff what the future may hold).
By happy coincidence, Tuesday was also Allan Donald’s 32nd birthday, an occasion commemorated by a cake with one candle, presumably because the country’s greatest asset cannot be allowed to strain those valuable lungs by attempting to blow out 32 flames.
We serenaded him and then Colin Bryden, the editor of the annual reminded us that Donald is something special.
It is a South African oddity that we need reminding. The great English batsman Tom Graveney once told me that in a test career spanning 15 seasons, the meanest new-ball pair he faced were Peter Heine and Neil Adcock.
Later on came Peter Pollock and then Mike Procter, but Donald has eclipsed all those worthies. Like Richard Hadlee before him, he has put behind him the wild inconsistency of his early years and become the complete bowler.
At 32 the easy enthusiasm and boundless energy of youth are distant memories for quick bowlers. Donald is a supreme athlete with a heart as big as Springbok Park, but even he cannot go on for ever.
President Nelson Mandela has acknowledged that fact by giving Donald the president’s gold award, and in his own small way Colin Bryden did the same by making Bloemfontein’s finest export one of the annual’s five cricketers of the year along with Hansie Cronje, Shaun Pollock, Mark Boucher and Pat Symcox.
But making Donald a cricketer of the year is like praising grass for growing in spring.
His quality is as repetitive as the song of the weaver bird and he will be an automatic choice for his country as long as he cares to make himself available.
The other four cricketers of the year have more arguable pedigrees, even though they are also regular choices for the national side.
Hansie Cronje has been called a great ambassador for South Africa, but it was Raymond Robertson- Glasgow who wrote, “I have never subscribed to the belief that sportsmen should be seen as ambassadors. If they are I can think of some damned strange ones.”
Cronje has learned to be comfortable with the international press and his diplomacy is legendary, but people who think of him as an ambassador are ignoring his upbringing.
He is what he is because his parents, Ewie and San-Marie, brought him up that way. A Cronje behaving boorishly in public is about as likely as a volkstaat in Soweto.
Cronje leads the side in Bangladesh, but one of his prize assets is absent. Shaun Pollock has a bad back and South Africa’s chances of winning the tournament have taken a dip as a result.
Bowling seam up in Dhaka is likely to be about as rewarding as digging for gold in Scunthorpe, but Pollock’s batting will be missed.
He is unique among current South African players in being as comfortable on the front foot as on the back.
If you could graft on Pollock’s footwork on to Daryll Cullinan’s talent you would have something close to Barry Richards.
Sadly, as much as coaches will try to argue otherwise, footwork cannot be taught. You’ve either got it or you ain’t.
The other two cricketers of the year will both play important roles in Bangladesh.
Mark Boucher will have to stand up to the stumps a lot more than he is used to, because the pitches will be low and slow, and coach Bob Woolmer’s main selection dilemma is whether to pick two spinners or three.
Boucher’s reputation went backwards in England, perhaps because like most manufactured wicket- keepers, he frets when he is not scoring runs.
Boucher could be coaxed back to form with the gloves by a few long spells in the nets keeping to Pat Symcox. The man who has gone home to Kimberley this season is now on his 14th international tour. He is in rich form with the bat, having pulverised Eastern Province’s attack last Friday, and he will be desperately difficult to hit runs off in Dhaka.
The loudest cheer on Tuesday night was reserved for Symmo, and for obvious reasons. Allan Donald is the kind of talent that comes along once in a generation, which means that as a cricketing role model he is all but worthless because he’s too good.
But Symcox is the classic example of what hard work can achieve. He is a better player at 38 than he was at 28, not because he lives in the gym, doesn’t drink and doesn’t smoke, but because he has worked at his game. Live long and prosper, Patrick.