Obit | Andrew Symonds: Too fast to live, too young to die

File Image: Andrew Symonds bats during Australia's fourth ODI against West Indies in Basseterre, St. Kitts on July 4, 2008 (Reuters/Andy Clark)

“Danger was part of his life as daring was part of his game. He had never driven in the middle lane nor yet pushed back tempting deliveries. Rather, he struck the ball with a free swing, sent down optimistic deliveries and lived as generously and spontaneously as he passed away. On and off the field, it was the same,” wrote the venerated Peter Roebuck in a poignant obituary of Ben Hollioake, former England cricketer, who died in a car accident nearly two decades back.  Perhaps, the same can be said about Andrew Symonds, 46, after the tragic demise of the Australian in another brutal and similar car accident, which has shaken the cricketing world.

Symonds’ arrival in cricketing consciousness was nothing short of spectacular. Barely in his 20s, Symonds, played a remarkable innings of 254 unbeaten for Gloucestershire against Glamorgan at Abergavenny in 1995 in a county game in England. Instantly, the image of an unabashed six-hitter was born as he struck 16 in the first innings, a world record, and four in the second innings, making it 20 for the whole match, a feat that had never been accomplished by anyone until then in first class cricket.

He was in some ways ahead of his time as his buccaneering style was perfectly suited for the slam-bang nature of the T20 format, which only became part of cricket culture in the latter part of the first decade of the new century. By then Symonds was already past his prime and so could only represent Australia in 17 matches.

Slow start

Ironically, the Queenslander didn’t get to play too many matches in the longest format of the game for multiple reasons. He was born in an era when Australia was blessed with some exceptional Test cricketers. And despite his initial success at the first-class level and being an all-rounder, he didn’t pile enough runs consistently or take wickets in huge numbers so that he could attract the attention of the selectors and observers to prompt advancement to international cricket.

Not only did his red-ball game lack the solidity needed to confront the various challenges of international cricket, he didn’t make a mark in nearly half a decade in white ball cricket, a format that was supposedly tailor made for his skill sets and craft. Even though he made his debut as early as in 1998, Symonds couldn’t establish himself in the Australian one-day international (ODI) set-up as his first 53 games yielded an average of just 23. And yet, he was chosen for the 2003 World Cup in South Africa at the eleventh hour as the 15th member of the side, apparently at the insistence of then captain Ricky Ponting, who perhaps had sensed the roaring tiger inside the bulky athlete.

Of course, in many ways, Symonds’ real ‘arrival’ on the international stage was nothing short of dramatic, as Shane Warne pulled out just a few hours before the World Cup’s opening game, after he infamously failed a drug test.  Symonds was soon playing the biggest match of his career and when his turn came to bat, his team was tottering at 86 for four. In a game and tournament that ‘Simmo’ was never expected to play in, he blitzed Pakistani hopes with a murderous unbeaten 143 in just 125 balls. Even if he hadn’t played a single match after that, his place in cricket’s hall of acknowledgement was assured by that one knock of exceptional brilliance.

Constant scrutiny 

Over the next decade, however, it appeared that Symonds’ seemingly free-spirited nature didn’t comfortably sit with the modern ethos of cricket and that, too, in a high-profile team like Australia. In hindsight, it seems he may not entirely have embraced sobriety and also perhaps didn’t seem capable of understanding that a high-profile sport like cricket, in sports-mad Australia, would always put him in the spotlight.

Much to his annoyance, the uncomfortable and constant scrutiny may have forced him to cross the line at times. There is no respite from the paparazzi culture, which is always more interested in a special character like Symonds, who defied many stereotypes.

This, of course, is not to suggest that Symonds was flawless or an outright genius. As Roebuck once famously remarked, mere death does not bestow nobility, let alone sanctity. However, it can be safely concluded that his strengths as a cricketer outweighed his weaknesses as a person.

As is the norm in the international sporting scene, athletes are expected to maintain far higher standards and every little mistake is often blown out of proportion. Symonds faced this situation several times in his career ranging from a ban for skipping a team meeting as went fishing or turning out late for a match after a late-night drinking session or most infamous of all, the Monkeygate episode with Harbhajan Singh.

Symonds had some of the fiercest and most loyal mates as well as the worst critics. Like all of us, he, too, had his faults, immaturities and indiscretions and that often made him a villain off the field. Now, that he is gone, the world can be kinder to his personality.