Remembering England Batting Great, Aged 62.

During the period preceding the frenetic T20 era, few could match the leather with more raw power than Robin Smith. Built with the physique of a fighter but possessing the quick feet of his ballet dancer mother, he produced shots – notably his ferocious square cut – with such violence they could dent in boundary hoardings and shattered the morale of opponents.

Smith, who has died after a lengthy battle with poor health, was a man riddled with paradox. To the public eye, he appeared the embodiment of a brave, front-foot player, famed for epic duels with the world's fastest bowlers. Yet, behind this show of machismo was a deeply insecure individual, a conflict he kept hidden during his playing days that subsequently contributed to battles with alcoholism and depression.

Sheer Bravery Mixed with a Desire for the Rush

His fearlessness against pace was utterly authentic. The motivation, however, was a complex blend of innate toughness and a confessed need for the rush. He seemed wired differently, positively relishing the masochistic test of standing up to thunderbolts, a situation requiring instant responses and an ability to absorb blows.

The ultimate demonstration came during his legendary undefeated knock of 148 for England versus the mighty West Indies at Lord's Cricket Ground in 1991. On a difficult pitch, against the rampant two of the greatest fast bowlers in history, he did not merely endure he positively flourished, relishing the fierce contest of intimidation and strokeplay. In retrospect, he said the experience as leaving him “buzzing”.

An Impressive England Tenure

Featuring mostly at number five or six, He earned caps for England in 62 Test matches and 71 One-Day Internationals during an eight-year international span. He accumulated more than four thousand runs in Tests at an average of 43-plus, featuring nine hundreds. In the 50-over format, he compiled almost two and a half thousand runs at an average nearing forty.

Perhaps his most ferocious knock occurred in 1993 in Birmingham facing the Aussies, hammering 167 ruthless runs. The innings was so powerful that he was reportedly commendations from PM John Major. Sadly, a recurring theme, his team ended up losing the match.

The Moniker and a Troubled Soul

Dubbed ‘Judge’ after a wig-like haircut resembling a judicial wig, his mean in Test cricket stands as commendable, especially considering his career spanned in a losing era. Many believe his international career was ended somewhat unfairly following a contentious trip to South Africa in the winter of 95/96.

He admitted in his autobiography, he existed as a dual personality: ‘The Judge’, the ruthless on-field warrior who lived for conflict, and Robin Smith, a sensitive, emotional man. These two sides fought for dominance.

His staunch allegiance occasionally led to trouble. One well-known episode he intervened to protect West Indian colleague Malcolm Marshall following racist slurs at a team hotel. Following unsuccessful appeals, Smith knocked out the ringleader, a response resulting in a broken hand and cost him six weeks of cricket.

The Difficult Transition

Moving on from the game outside the dressing room was immensely challenging. The thrill of competition was substituted for the routine demands of commerce. Attempts at and a wine bar ultimately faltered. Coupled with problems in his marriage and mounting debts, he descended into heavy drinking and deep depression.

Emigrating to Western Australia accompanied by his brother Chris offered a fresh start but failed to fix his core problems. During his darkest hour, he contemplated suicide, before being talked back from the edge through the care of his son and a compassionate neighbour.

Robin Smith is survived by his companion, Karin, his son and daughter, and his brother, Chris.