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Long before the dawn of the high-octane T20 revolution, no one struck the cricket ball with more raw power as Robin Smith. Shaped with a prizefighter's frame yet endowed with the nimble footwork inherited from his mother, a ballet dancer, he produced shots – the square cut in particular – with such violence that they left dents in boundary hoardings while crushing the morale of opponents.
Smith has passed away following a long period of ill health, was a man riddled with paradox. Outwardly, he was the epitome of a brave, front-foot player, celebrated for memorable contests against express pace. But behind this mask of confidence existed a deeply insecure individual, a battle he masked while on the field that subsequently led to battles with depression and addiction.
His courage facing quick bowlers could never be doubted. But the driving force, was a curious mix of pure grit and a self-confessed addiction to adrenaline. He seemed was built differently, actively craving the masochistic test of facing extreme pace, which calls for blistering reactions and a high tolerance for pain.
This trait was never better displayed during his legendary innings of 148 not out playing for England versus the mighty West Indies at Lord's in 1991. In challenging conditions, as a pair of legendary pacemen, Smith stood firm but counter-attacked with gusto, relishing the fierce contest of intimidation and strokeplay. He admitted afterwards that it left him feeling “buzzing”.
Batting primarily at number five or six, Smith played for England across 62 Tests and 71 One-Day Internationals during an eight-year international span. He scored more than four thousand runs in Tests at an average of 43-plus, featuring nine centuries. In the one-day arena, he compiled 2,419 ODI runs at an average nearing forty.
Perhaps his most ferocious knock came in 1993 at Edgbaston facing the Aussies, hammering 167 ruthless runs. The display was so impressive he earned personally congratulated PM John Major. Yet, in a cruel twist, his team ended up losing that contest.
Affectionately nicknamed ‘The Judge’ due to an early hairstyle reminiscent of a court wig, his batting average in Tests stands as commendable, especially considering he featured during a period of English struggle. Many believe his international career was ended somewhat unfairly following a contentious trip of South Africa in the winter of 95/96.
He admitted in his autobiography, he was a dual personality: ‘The Judge’, the arrogant, combative cricketer who loved a fight, and Robin Smith, a vulnerable person. Each persona were in constant tension.
His fierce loyalty sometimes caused him problems. One well-known episode saw him defend fellow Hampshire player Malcolm Marshall against racial taunts in a hotel bar. Following unsuccessful appeals, he floored the primary abuser, a move which fractured his hand causing six weeks of cricket.
Adapting to a world after professional sport was immensely challenging. The buzz of the game gave way to the routine demands of business. Attempts at a travel company did not succeed. Coupled with a strained relationship and financial woes, he fell victim to alcohol dependency and severe depression.
Relocating to Perth with his family provided a new beginning but failed to fix his core problems. At his lowest point, he considered ending his life, only being pulled back from the edge by the intervention of his son and a compassionate neighbour.
He leaves behind his companion, Karin, his son and daughter, and his brother, Chris.
A seasoned digital strategist with over a decade of experience in web development and creative design.