During the period preceding the explosive Twenty20 format, arguably nobody hit a cricket ball with such sheer force as Robin Smith. Constructed with the physique of a fighter but possessing the quick feet from his mother, a dancer, he unleashed strokes – notably his ferocious square cut – with such devastating power that they left dents in perimeter fencing and deflated the morale of opponents.
The cricketer's death comes following a long period of ill health, was a man riddled with paradox. Outwardly, he was the very image of fearless, attacking batsmanship, famed for epic duels against express pace. Yet, behind this mask of confidence existed a deeply insecure individual, a conflict he kept hidden during his playing days that subsequently led to problems of depression and addiction.
His courage facing quick bowlers could never be doubted. But the driving force, was a curious mix of pure grit and an admitted thrill-seeking nature. Many felt he was built differently, actively craving the brutal examination of facing extreme pace, which calls for lightning reflexes and a high tolerance for pain.
The ultimate demonstration came during his legendary innings of 148 not out for England facing the Caribbean pace attack at the Home of Cricket in 1991. On a tricky surface, facing the furious onslaught of Curtly Ambrose and Malcolm Marshall, he did not merely endure but counter-attacked with gusto, relishing the fierce contest of bouncers and boundaries. In retrospect, he said the feeling was one of “buzzing”.
Playing largely as a middle-order batsman, He earned caps for England across 62 Tests and 71 ODIs from the late 80s to the mid-90s. He amassed 4,236 Test runs with a mean of 43.67, which contained nine hundreds. In the one-day arena, he compiled almost two and a half thousand runs at an average close to 40.
A particularly brutal innings was played in 1993 at Edgbaston versus the old enemy, blasting a brutal 167 runs. The innings was so powerful that he was reportedly direct praise from the Prime Minister, John Major. However, in a frustrating pattern, England could not secure victory the game.
Affectionately nicknamed ‘Judge’ after a wig-like haircut that looked like a judge's wig, Smith's Test average was notably impressive, especially considering his career spanned for a frequently defeated England team. It is widely felt his international career was ended prematurely by the panel following a contentious trip in South Africa in the winter of 95/96.
As he later confessed, he was two distinct characters: ‘Judge’, the ruthless on-field warrior who lived for conflict, and the man himself, a vulnerable person. The two identities were in constant tension.
An unshakeable sense of loyalty sometimes caused him problems. Most famously saw him defend fellow Hampshire player Malcolm Marshall against racial taunts in a hotel bar. Following unsuccessful appeals, Smith knocked out the ringleader, an act that broke his own hand leading to six weeks of cricket.
Moving on from the game after professional sport became a huge struggle. The adrenaline rush gave way to the mundane realities of running companies. Ventures into bat manufacturing did not succeed. Coupled with marital difficulties and mounting debts, he fell victim to heavy drinking and profound despair.
Relocating to Perth accompanied by his brother Chris provided a new beginning but failed to fix his personal demons. During his darkest hour, he considered ending his life, only being pulled back from that decision through the care of his child and a friend.
Robin Smith is survived by his companion, Karin, Harrison and Margaux, and his brother, Chris.