Tributes Paid to England Batting Great, Aged 62.

Long before the dawn of the frenetic Twenty20 era, arguably nobody hit a cricket ball with more raw power as Robin Smith. Built with a prizefighter's frame yet endowed with the quick feet from his mother, a dancer, his shots were unleashed – especially his trademark square cut – with such immense force they dented in boundary hoardings while crushing the hopes of the opposition.

Smith, who has died after a prolonged illness, was a man of profound contradictions. On the surface, he appeared the embodiment of courageous, aggressive batting, renowned for thrilling battles with fearsome quicks. Yet, behind this show of machismo was a person plagued by self-doubt, a battle he kept hidden while on the field but which later fuelled struggles against depression and addiction.

Raw Courage Mixed with a Desire for the Rush

His bravery versus fast bowling could never be doubted. The motivation, however, involved a combination of pure grit and a confessed need for the rush. Teammates wondered if he wired differently, actively craving the punishing challenge of facing extreme pace, which calls for instant responses and a high tolerance for pain.

The ultimate demonstration came during an iconic undefeated knock of 148 for England facing the Caribbean pace attack at the Home of Cricket in 1991. On a difficult pitch, facing the furious onslaught of a pair of legendary pacemen, Smith stood firm but counter-attacked with gusto, relishing the brutal exchange of intimidation and strokeplay. In retrospect, he said the experience as leaving him “buzzing”.

A Notable International Career

Batting primarily in the middle order, He earned caps for England over 62 Test matches and 71 One-Day Internationals between 1988 and 1996. He scored 4,236 Test runs at an average of 43.67, including nine three-figure scores. In ODI cricket, he compiled almost two and a half thousand runs averaging close to 40.

Perhaps his most ferocious knock was played in 1993 in Birmingham against Australia, where he smashed a brutal 167 runs. The display was so impressive that even the then commendations from the Prime Minister, John Major. Sadly, a recurring theme, England still failed to win the match.

The Moniker and Lasting Contradictions

Dubbed ‘Judge’ because of a youthful haircut that looked like a judge's wig, Smith's Test average remains highly respectable, especially considering his career spanned in a losing era. It is widely felt he was discarded somewhat unfairly post a fractious series to South Africa in the winter of 95/96.

In his own words, he existed as a dual personality: ‘the Judge’, the tough, confrontational competitor who lived for conflict, and plain Robin, a gentle, feeling individual. The two identities fought for dominance.

His fierce loyalty could also be his downfall. Most famously involved him standing up for West Indian colleague Malcolm Marshall against racial taunts in a hotel bar. After words failed, he punched the main aggressor, an act that broke his own hand causing a lengthy spell on the sidelines.

The Difficult Transition

The transition to life post-cricket became a huge struggle. The thrill of competition was replaced by the ordinary pressures of business. Attempts at and a wine bar did not succeed. Alongside a strained relationship and mounting debts, he descended into addiction and profound despair.

Emigrating to Western Australia with his family was meant to be a reset but did not solve his underlying issues. During his darkest hour, he contemplated suicide, only being pulled back from the edge by the support of his child and a friend.

He leaves behind his companion, Karin, his son and daughter, and elder brother Chris.