Peter Hayter column – The Judge was our original master blaster!

It had to happen, but the fact that it took so long for someone to break Robin Smith’s record for the highest One-Day International score by an England player underlines just how fine an innings his unbeaten 167 against Australia back in 1993 actually was, and reminds those who saw it just how much fun it was to watch him bat.

As far as the stats go, the brilliant 171 against Pakistan in Nottingham with which Alex Hales secured his place in the history books far surpassed Smith’s knock.

Twenty-three summers ago at Edgbaston, Smith made his fourth ODI century from 163 deliveries at a strike-rate of 102.45, with 17 fours and three sixes. This week at Trent Bridge, Hales scored 171 from just 122 balls, with 22 fours and four sixes, at an astonishing rate of 140.16.

Smith’s effort, out of 277-5, was not enough to build a match-winning total as Australia cruised to victory by six wickets with 15 balls to spare.

Pakistan never recovered from the mauling they suffered at the hands of Hales, conceded 444-3 – the highest total ever made in this form of the international game – and subsided to defeat in the match (and the series) by 169 runs.

It should be remembered, furthermore, that, back in 1993, ODIs were played over 55 overs, though they were also the days before science had created the ‘Superbat’ – when the middle of the bat was the middle of the bat and not all of it, and when inside edges went to the infield rather than the rope and sixes and fours had to be hit, not burgled, with boundaries brought in close enough for the batsman to wipe their boots on between deliveries.

But all completely irrelevant discussion of the relative merits of the two innings a side, for those who lived through the ups and downs of English cricket in the 1990s, (mainly downs, of course) Hales’ greatest hits allowed a moment or two of nostalgia for one of the few bright sparks that made it worth all the effort – well some of it anyway.

Robin Smith was one of those characters in whose presence life always seemed a little better – a big kid, really, with an openness and a sense of humour that, in those days at least, might take a battering but always refused to be beaten.

He delighted in telling stories of the fanatical support he had been given in his growing years by his barking-made old man John Smith, back in his native South Africa, as he strove initially to help his son convert undoubted sporting potential into a career in top-flight rugby.

In order to practise before John went to work, the pair of them would get up while it was still dark and perform the following ritual. So that Robin could see where he was aiming his kicks at goal, John would light a workman’s brazier behind the posts he had had specially erected for the purpose, and stand there to tend it.

Robin would duly target the light from the fire. John, however, had no idea where or when the balls would come and often only found out when one landed on his head, to which he would react first with a muffled “Ow!” followed by “good kick, my boy. Let’s have another one.”

But John was not content with kicking every ball, passing every pass and making every tackle with his lad and when, one day, after a race down the touchline, Robin threw himself full stretch to put the ball over the try-line, he looked sideways to see his dad had not only run every step alongside him, but had dived over the line with him too.

Far from being overwhelmed by the attention, Robin found his dad’s antics riotously funny and brought the talent to amuse with him onto the field to such good effect that he was responsible for one of the best comebacks to an attempted sledge in Ashes history.

Australia were all over England for almost the entire 1989 series and, when Smith played and missed at three in a row from Hughes in the second Test at Lord’s, cricket’s greatest moustache just couldn’t help himself.

“Hey mate,” said Merv, “why are you even out here? You can’t f***in’ bat.”

After having smashed the next ball to the cover boundary before any fielder moved, Smith strolled three paces down the pitch towards his now steaming opponent and observed: “Well, Merv. We make a fine pair, don’t we? I can’t f***in’ bat, and you can‘t f***in’ bowl”. Even Alan Border, Captain Grumpy to his mates, saw the funny side.

As for his batting, it was all front-foot courage against the quickest of the quicks – his dominance of the still mighty West Indies at Lord’s in 1991 was such that Vivian Richards was moved, maybe for the only time, to clear signs of frustration at a world-beating attack of Curtly Ambrose, Malcolm Marshall, Courtney Walsh and Patrick Patterson.

With a bat weighing 3lbs plus that his immense strength enabled him to wield like a conductor’s baton, Smith cut the ball so hard that it sometimes hit the rope before he had finished his follow-though and, during the 1992 World Cup match against India, he hit one of the biggest sixes ever seen at the WACA.  Picking up a ball from Subroto Banerjee from just short of a length, he launched it over the mid-wicket boundary, a carry of some 100 metres and it kept on travelling another 30 so that when it came back to earth it landed only just short of the scoreboard at the back of the grass bank. The next time he tried it, against slow left-armer Ravi Shastri, he put so much effort into the shot he threw himself off his feet and ended up watching the ball reach the line with his backside on the ground and his legs in the air.

Life has not always been kind to Robin since his England career ended in 1995, mainly, it was said, due to the spin of Shane Warne which did for so many others, but one hopes that has not taken away all the fun he had and it certainly does not diminish the joy he gave those watching him do it.

England supporters have much for which to thank Alex Hales this week, not least in allowing those who can recall them a few priceless memories of the man whose record is now his.

This piece originally featured in The Cricket Paper, September 2 2016

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