It’s been Gary Kirsten’s decade, no doubt. As a young man in his early twenties, as youth would want, his journey of self-discovery involved numerous highways, waterways and airways.
His travelling companion in the early 1990s was the likeable, entertaining former Western Province and Boland batsman and (very slow) medium-pace bowler Kenny Jackson.
They were adventurous — normal in men so young — but their passion for the game always lured them towards cricket grounds around the world. The leagues in England and Holland were blessed with their personable and cricketing skills.
Gary’s pedigree was evident early in his provincial career, setting a Western Province second-wicket batting record of 250 with yours truly in the ”Currie Cup” final vs Eastern Province in March 1990. The ageing Peter surrendered his wicket on 125 but South Africa’s highest Test runscorer displayed his hunger for success even then by grafting on to 175.
By October 1990, after many tussles involving a variety of sports — tennis, squash, golf and rugby — and provincial batting partnerships I thought it time to move on to Border for a new challenge. You see, Gary was brilliant at all these sports and I used to experience a sound beating!
In fact, my advice to him was, ”Gazza, never become a professional cricketer”, and the international tennis circuit nearly won his skills. Graeme Smith, Eric Simons, Omar Henry, the United Cricket Board and Western Province should be grateful that the young upstart never heeded my advice!
By 1992, we (Kepler, myself and the gang), were wooing the world and the South African public at our first World Cup in Australia. The youth, we were sure, would be hooked to the game like a grunter to a mud prawn.
Popularity breeds invitations and so we travelled to the West Indies only a week after the World Cup in April 1992. Imagine my absolute glee when two casual-looking ”travellers” in a yellow beach-buggy arrived unannounced at our hotel in Bridgetown, Barbados, at the start of our historic Test against the West Indies.
Naturally, Gazza shacked up with me that week and Jackson with the irrepressible Adrian Kuiper. To be attracted across the world again displayed Gary’s desire for the game played by ”white-flannelled fools”.
A year later the Kirsten brothers found themselves out of the team, out of favour and out of form — down but far from out! Knysna was always a good meeting place for us, strategising and formulating a plan of action on the lagoon in a rubber duck. With the Knysna Heads looking an ominous sight, our passport to continued international participation surely lay at the mercy of the elements, technology and 12 Castle Lagers.
That the leerfish did not take to our lures did not deter us from the seriousness of the moment. Our plan to kick butt was: Gary would open the batting for Western Province in both forms of the game and bowl his useful off-spinners. I would open the batting for Border.
Indeed, something worked for us on the lagoon as Gary’s international career began as a 25-year-old replacement for Brian Mcmillan in December 1993 on the Australian tour. My career was back on track three weeks later as a replacement for the injured Kepler Wessels.
Gary’s journey since his first trip to Australia is a classic case of personal strategy, identification and nurturing and his own solid mental and spiritual organisation. His people skills and ethics have enabled him to overcome adversity during his decade of Test cricket, providing his team with a calmness and balance especially in tough times as was so brilliantly executed at Headingley.
It would have been impossible for Monde Zondeki to perform his heroics without Gary at the other end. His decade of experience and solidity filtered through to the rest, noteably Jacques Kallis and Andrew Hall. Headingley must surely be Gary’s finest hour and upholds the Tiger Woods dictum that he relates to: ”I wake up every morning with a fear of just being average.”