A tribute to Gazza

The sports stars that some of us idolise and worship are usually chosen by us, but in the case of Gary Kirsten and I — he picked me. I was watching him bat one gloomy day years ago — I can’t remember where the team were playing, or who they were playing against — and we were being murdered in some Test. I was watching with my mate, who had to go off somewhere, but Gazza was in the forties of his innings and as such we couldn’t go in case he got to fifty.

We told him, there and then: get us fifty, Gazza, to ease the pain of defeat, and we’ll be your most loyal fans until the day you retire.

He got fifty, we kept our word, and now he’s retired. But we’re still big, big fans.

Being a fan of Gary Kirsten meant I got to watch every innings he played in great detail, as nothing could drag me away whenever he was batting. When everyone was raving about Daryll Cullinan I was watching Gazza; when Jacques Kallis burst on the scene I was watching Gazza; when he shifted down to number three to accomodate new opening sensation Graeme Smith — I was watching Gazza. I doubt anyone in the history of Gazz-watching has ever watched as much Gazza as I, and I therefore feel it is my duty to provide him with a fitting tribute for the years of brilliant service he has given this country in ODI cricket.

Nobody else will.

I’ve scoured the newspapers, websites and magazines for any sign that even just somewhere, someone might have noticed that Gazza is gone. I searched for one teardrop, one eulogy, one word of praise for South Africa’s most prolific and loyal cricketer since readmission — and I couldn’t find one. Not one. Just a casual mention here and there of the fact that he’s gone, and one or two people dragging up one or two cursory, bog-standard stats to explain why it was worth a mention.

But no emotion, no thanks, and no wishes of goodwill. I would like to rectify that.

I sit here through a mist of tears as I write this, because no matter how many people I’ve killed, maimed and tortured (and it’s been many, make no mistake), I cannot visualise life without Gazza, let alone cricket. Look — I don’t want to sleep with the man. It’s just that he has brought me more joy and pride than all other cricketers in the history of South African cricket put together, and has done so for so many years. He’s been South African cricket for me, and it will be a long while before I will be able to sit and watch an ODI game with any sort of enjoyment or emotion again.

The good news is that he isn’t done with Test cricket, and I hope he won’t be for years and years and years and years and years to come. I learnt the art of Test cricket by watching Gazz battle pitches, bowlers, conditions, concentration and himself, and each step of his career — from ducks to double-hundreds — has enlightened me further on the Mysteries of the Middle.

So I won’t eulogise too much, as that will have to be saved for the day he leaves forever, but I would like to point out some salient facts from his career that many people may not have realised.

Gary’s ODI career began on a hot night in Sydney, 11 days before Christmas in 1993. The game was against Australia, and was the fourth game of the Benson and Hedges World Series. As he was to do for most of his career Gazza opened the batting, chasing a meagre Aussie total of 172/9 (Fanie de Villiers and Craig Mathews took three apiece without conceding many, while AD — in what could be considered a fateful glimpse into the future — got spanked all over the park for one wicket).

Gary faced 27 balls for the grand total of four, before his first (and now last) tormentor Glenn McGrath induced a drive outside off, for Gazza to nick to the ever-irritating Ian Healy. South Africa went on to record one of their lowest totals ever (69), and lost the match by 103 runs. In his next game against Australia (the eighth game of the World Series) Gazza top-scored, getting 51, but South Africa once again lost to the Aussies, although this time by only 48 runs. It was Gazza’s first fifty, in his third game.

In his next game against Australia (his fifth game) he scored 55, and in doing so helped South Africa to their first win against Australia in the World Series. His seventh game (also against Australia) was the first final of the World Series, and in it he scored his maiden century, smashing an unbeaten 112 off 137 balls while everyone around him fell. South Africa went on to win the game by 28 runs.

Gazza had arrived.

That hundred was the first of what would become 13 hundreds, his best score coming in the 1996 World Cup against UAE at Rawalpindi (188* — still the best ever world cup score). Only seven players have ever scored more centuries in ODI cricket, and all of those have played at least 24 more games than Gazz. He has also scored 45 fifties, with only 14 other players in history scoring more. He is fifteenth on the all time list of most ODI runs (6798), and has both the 8th and the 15th best opening partnerships in the game (with Herschelle Gibbs and Andrew Hudson respectively).

175 of his 185 ODI’s were as opening bat, which makes his achievements doubly impressive. It’s one thing coming in at six when the top order have already put on 250, and the support bowlers are on, bowling with a soft ball, and quite another opening against the quickest bowlers in the world on tracks which often provide pace and bounce in the first fifteen overs.

Not only does Gary hold the above impressive statistics against international competition, but all of his batting feats are the best ever by a South African batsman. Nobody has scored more fifties, hundreds or runs in total, and nobody has ever made a higher score (only three other players in history have made a better ODI score — Viv Richards, Sanath Jayasuriya and Saeed Anwar, who still holds the record at 194).

Gazza is also co-owner of the first and second-wicket partnerships for South Africa, as well as 19 other partnership records at grounds around the world. He has received 15 Man of the Match awards, and scored more than 1 000 runs in a calendar year twice.

Gary has scored more runs against India than any other country (1 377, average 62,59), followed by New Zealand (1 180, average 43,70) and Australia (1 167, average 31,54).

The bowler to get Gary out most in his career has been Glenn McGrath (seven times), and while the press have fallen all over themselves exposing Gazza’s ”Tormentor”, the simple fact remains — South Africa have played more ODI’s against Australia than any other country, and every time Gary has opened facing McGrath. If McGrath hadn’t got him out seven times I would be very surprised indeed. A complete press myth, one of many which has meant Gary has never got the respect and admiration he has deserved.

Gary has been described as ”solid”, ”dependable”, and ”workmanlike” his whole career, despite having done far more than was ever asked of him. His career scoring rate of over 72 is the best you could ask from a man who has always had to play the sheet anchor role in an innings. I have watched countless games where Gibbs or Rhodes have played ”breathtaking” innings of 50, while Gary has scored an even better 80 and barely received acknowledgement for it.

The Press (*spit*) have always been the first to call for Gary’s head when the side was underachieving, but he always proved them wrong by coming back and scoring lots and lots of runs. Then they’d pontificate about how wise it was to bring him back into the side, always after the fact. From these observations one can deduce that The Press are nothing more than shamefully ignorant, and I find it disgusting that people are payed to comment on something they know nothing about, and then be called experts on the subject.

It sickens me.

But I have seen the light, and it’s burned bright for a long time. Now Gazza has voluntarily extinguished it, and truth be told I’m glad in a way. I wouldn’t have wanted Gary just to have been cast aside, or warmed the bench for a couple of seasons before slinking out the back door like so many South African cricketers have done. He played his part and more in the World Cup, but he and Gibbs couldn’t bring it home alone, and there are far more people to blame for it than Gazza. At least he’s left on his own terms and with dignity, which is all I could ask for.

So I take my hat off to Gary Kirsten, and I hang it with my heart on a hook near the door. And one day when I’m an old man I’ll tell bored teenagers about the Great Gary Kirsten who filled my life with such happiness in the early days of the rebirth of South African cricket, but somehow I don’t think they’ll understand.

But I do. Always have. Always will.

Cheers,

The Twelfth Man