My Favourite Cricketer: Hansie Cronje by Purna Hassan

In our series "My Favourite Cricketer" we've invited the best cricket writers and bloggers to divulge why certain cricketers emerge as their favourites.  This week, Purna Hassan of Cricket Minded and @cricketminded takes the stand

I fell in love with cricket because of Hansie Cronje and the team he captained. My Dad introduced me to cricket and as he was an avid fan of India, I followed his passion. It was only at age eleven when began to grasp the concepts of the game and realized cricket's meaning differs between countries.

Courtesy: wikipedia.org

In India, it was religion bordering on fanatic levels. In West Indies, cricket was an aura that had stunned the world. In Australia, it evoked a chase between a wild animal and its prey. In South Africa, it was an avenue for a country to step up and etch their place on the map. In the 1997-1998 Test match between South Africa and India, Allan Donald and Shaun Pollock captured my attention, Jonty Rhodes made me clap rowdily and Hansie Cronje – he simply demanded my respect.

He wasn’t as flamboyant as a batsman could be. In fact, his batting numbers are far below what he should have achieved. But I have no complaints. Hansie was too busy being a leader, instilling faith in players that had been overlooked for years because of the unfortunate state of their country. Hansie was too busy being there.

I am trying here to express what he represented, for his team and his country. I'm not South African, but do come from a country that has always struggled to rectify the overblown, deeply concentrated negative images displayed for so long in the media. Hansie was put in charge of such a team at the tender age of 24; despite relative youth, he never showed any greenness. Hansie feared no one, or if he did, I never saw it. His confidence, ego and intensity were, in my opinion, exactly what the new era Proteas needed. After all, this team had defend every single outburst (racial or otherwise) which would have been termed ‘part of the game’ for others. The world was watching and Hansie and co. had to prove that South Africans were capable of much more than just apartheid.

His greatest power lay in the knowledge that he was there to play cricket. His love for the game resonated in his eyes and his smiles. He could have a good time on the pitch even when times were hard. He was a prankster and I fondly remember his banter with Jonty and the then young Jacques Kallis (ed: I could have sworn Jacques Kallis was born at age 32 with bat in hand).

Allan Donald was his go-to man, Pollock the newcomer of distinguished lineage. Herschelle Gibbs marked the role of restless youngster to perfection and Dave Richardson his reliable old sage. Even as a young man, Cronje instinctively knew how to handle, utilise and shuffle his pack. I can’t remember a single instance where his decisions on the field were questioned by his team-mates; when those choices were dubious or cost them the game, Hansie was the first to admit his mistakes and the quickest to learn from them (alas, apart from the choking). He was in every sense a leader.

It was little wonder that South Africa quickly rose to the top of the international game. Talents like Gibbs, Boucher and Ntini flourished from the nutrition provided by Hansie and coach Bob Woolmer. The results began to evolve as they won the Asia Cup – their only ICC trophy – in Dhaka. I remember as he held the trophy; I was watching with tears in my eyes. All he said was ‘It’s heavy, but I don’t want to put it down’.

In the 1999 World Cup, South Africa were the hot favourites. It was there that I saw the first signs of my captain's weakness. Hansie took the field with an ear-piece to communicate with Woolmer, a move he later paid for. South Africa’s previously impressive top order began to rely more on Lance Klusener's WMD finishes. In the excitement and amid a remarkable run of “Zulu” form, the otherwise perceptive Hansie Cronje let his team play; he should have united the team and reminded them of their duties.

Personally, I loved it. Klusener is and will always be my 1999 World Cup hero, but in there is no way Allan Donald should have been the man at the other end with Zulu when the likes of Kirsten, Gibbs, Cullinan, Kallis, Cronje and even Pollock came before. I thought the 1999 World Cup semi-final was the first and last time the Proteas would break my heart.

And then came Cronje-gate.

Image courtesy: wn.com

I distinctly remember the day Hansie confessed his crimes. I was leaving for a vacation and woke up early to start my travels. I picked up the newspaper – it's first page featured a huge picture of Hansie crying and the headline “Match-fixing scandal rocks the Cricket world”. To say I was devastated is an understatement. Till then, I had vehemently defended Cronje, strongly believing the allegations to be a set-up. Anyone and everyone who loves cricket was shattered by the revelation but for me it was more personal: it was the ultimate and immutable demise of my hero.

I was disgusted that he had persuaded team-mates to join him and shocked by the tremendous flaw that the match-fixing scandals revealed in a man I respected. It pained me to see what he had reduced his cricket to, to what he had reduced himself. Those are the only emotions I recall from those days – betrayal and an overwhelming sadness. Even still I couldn’t bring myself to hate him, rather I was grateful when he stepped aside and accepted his bans with grace. I couldn't bear to see him stoop lower.

Cronje broke my heart a third time with his untimely death. It's indicative of the man that sometimes I feel he's still alive, on an island and living it up. In these times, he's grinning from ear to ear as only Hansie can.

It's probably pretty plain that I forgave him quickly. His incredible betrayal could not taint the memories he had given me over the years and neither could it stain his leadership and passion for the game. Hansie Cronje may have changed cricket forever with his misguided activities, but for me it doesn't detract at all from the confidence he provoked in the Proteas and, by extension, his gift to the cricket world.

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My Favourite Cricketer: Herschelle Gibbs, by JLaw

In our continuing series "My Favourite Cricketer", JLaw of Wicket Maiden examines the flawed genius of Herschelle Gibbs.

It was only in 2010 - when I finished reading Herschelle Gibbs’s biography To the Point - that I noticed the shape of a bottle of Jack Daniels was remarkably similar to that of a cricket bat.

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During the heyday of his career, my favourite cricketer, Herschelle Gibbs, was equally talented when it came to holding either object. These days – at the tender age of 37 – it’s just the willow which is still being yielded by this highly talented sportsman.

My appreciation for Gibbs goes back to my junior school days in the early nineties when he was perceived as a near demi-god at our school. He was a gifted sportsman with provincial and national colours in rugby, football and cricket – all before his grade 12 year. Despite having well below average academic results, Gibbs was the admiration for all the youngsters at school as he was already playing for the senior Western Province side shortly after his 16^th birthday and was always destined for big things.

For me, Gibbs’ provincial debut in the 1989/90 season was less memorable for his performance with the bat, but rather for the fact that his call up was so unexpected that his name could not be printed on his shirt correctly in time for the match.

In those days, each individual letter of the player’s names were ironed on the shirt. I assume that the backroom staff had run out of letters that day as a freckled teenage Herschelle walked on the field with the word ‘Dibb’ printed on his back. Sometimes it’s tough being the junior in the side.

Despite failing to, uhm, stamp his name on that match, Gibbs went on to become one of the most successful batsmen in South African history, albeit with a lingering flavour of controversy.

But it is his off-field antics which have kept me equally entertained as his on-field exploits.

He had to wait until November 1996 to make his Test debut. It was an even longer wait as he was set to come in at number three against India at Eden Gardens, but a remarkable 236-run opening stand between Andrew Hudson (now South Africa selector) and Gary Kirsten (now South Africa coach) meant it was a nervous and elongated wait for Gibbs who eventually got in and made a cautious 31 off 112 balls.

I believe the period in which Gibbs really vindicated his continued selection in the South African national side came in 1999. In January that year he hit his maiden ODI ton against West Indies in Port Elizabeth and three months later, Gibbs smashed a sterling 211 not out in New Zealand – his first of two career double tons in the longer format of the game. The other came in 2003 when he made 228 against Pakistan at his beloved Newlands.

Then who could ever forget what was arguably Gibbs’ finest moment in a Proteas shirt – the 438 game.

A match that will live in the records for years to come as the best ODI ever played took place in Johannesburg on 12 March 2006 and Gibbs was the star of the moment. After Australia scored a then world record of 434/4 in 50 overs, South Africa did the improbable by scoring 438/9 with Gibbsentertaining the crowd in a knock of 175 from 111 balls including seven sixes and 21 boundaries.

http://www.nandamurifans.com/

After the match Gibbs was quoted as saying in The Guardian: “I don’t know where that innings came from. I don’t think I’ve played better.” It was later revealed in To the Point that Gibbs had broken team protocol the night before and went on an all night drinking bender before taking to the field with a hope of sobering up.

Gibbs later said he was very thankful South Africa lost the toss and were put in the field as it gave him a chance to avoid facing both the new ball and his coach Mickey Arthur.

It’s because of Gibbs’s ability in this case to drink hard and play hard that I am able to call him my favourite cricketer - and make the parallel between the holding of the bat and the holding of a bottle of Jack Daniels.

1999 was, however, also the year when Gibbs had his best chance to win a World Cup were it not for hisinfamous ‘You just dropped the World Cup’ moment when he ‘dropped’ Australia captain Steve Waugh who went on to score a century and force a win against South Africa.

But, for as much excellence as there was on the pitch, there was a controversial side to the career of Gibbs, perhaps going back to a 2001 tour to the West Indies when he was part of a group of Proteas cricketers who were caught smoking marijuana in a hotel room in Antigua.

There is of course the match-fixing cloud which will always hover over Gibbs’s career. Having admitted his involvement in the Hansie Cronje-led match-fixing scandal, Gibbs was banned from cricket for six months and could not tour India for six years due to a self-imposed banishment to avoid Indian police.

Adding to that, a few racist remarks in a 2007 Test against Pakistan, some scandalous affairs, drunk driving charges and at least one stint of rehab for alcohol abuse that we know of kept the name Herschelle Gibbs in the media.

While it’s been over two decades of ups and downs, Gibbs, in the twilight of his career, continues to be both a fear for opposition bowlers and a threat to opposition batsmen when he’s lurking at backward point.

Despite a name fail in his First Class debut, the name Herschelle Gibbs now will never be forgotten by cricket fans worldwide. 

JLaw contributes regularly to Wicket Maiden and tweets at @justinlawrence.