Cricket Mourns The 'Judge', Aged 62.
During the period preceding the explosive Twenty20 revolution, arguably nobody hit the cricket ball with such sheer force as Robin Smith. Shaped with a prizefighter's frame yet blessed with the quick feet of his ballet dancer mother, he produced shots – the square cut in particular – with such violence they could dent in boundary hoardings and deflated the hopes of the opposition.
The cricketer's death comes after a lengthy battle with poor health, presented as a figure filled with stark contrasts. On the surface, he was the epitome of a brave, front-foot player, renowned for memorable contests against express pace. Yet, behind this show of machismo was a person plagued by self-doubt, a battle he masked during his playing days only to later contributed to struggles against alcoholism and depression.
Unflinching Guts and a Thirst for Adrenaline
His courage facing quick bowlers was unquestionably genuine. The source of this courage, involved a combination of innate toughness and a confessed addiction to adrenaline. Many felt he was built differently, seeking out the masochistic test of confronting express bowling, a situation requiring lightning reflexes and an ability to absorb blows.
The ultimate demonstration came during an iconic innings of 148 not out for England facing the Caribbean pace attack at Lord's in 1991. On a difficult pitch, as Curtly Ambrose and Malcolm Marshall, Smith not only survived but counter-attacked with gusto, relishing the fierce contest of intimidation and strokeplay. He later described the feeling was one of “tingling”.
An Impressive International Career
Batting primarily as a middle-order batsman, He earned caps for England across 62 Tests and 71 ODIs between 1988 and 1996. He accumulated 4,236 Test runs at an average of 43-plus, featuring nine hundreds. In ODI cricket, he made 2,419 ODI runs at an average nearing forty.
One of his most destructive displays occurred in 1993 in Birmingham against Australia, where he smashed a brutal 167 runs. The innings was so powerful he earned personally congratulated PM John Major. However, in a frustrating pattern, his team still failed to win that contest.
The Moniker and a Complex Legacy
Dubbed ‘The Judge’ because of a youthful haircut that looked like a judge's wig, Smith's Test average remains highly respectable, particularly given he played during a period of English struggle. It is widely felt his international career was ended too hastily by selectors after a difficult tour to South Africa during the mid-90s.
He admitted in his autobiography, he was a dual personality: ‘The Judge’, the tough, confrontational competitor who loved a fight, and the man himself, a sensitive, emotional man. These two sides fought for dominance.
His fierce loyalty sometimes caused him problems. One well-known episode involved him standing up for West Indian colleague Malcolm Marshall following racist slurs in Leicester. When verbal requests were ignored, Smith knocked out the primary abuser, a response that broke his own hand and cost him a lengthy spell on the sidelines.
The Difficult Transition
Adapting to a world after professional sport was immensely challenging. The buzz of the game gave way to the routine demands of running companies. Attempts at bat manufacturing ultimately faltered. Alongside marital difficulties and mounting debts, he spiralled into addiction and profound despair.
A move to Australia accompanied by his brother Chris was meant to be a reset but couldn't resolve his personal demons. At his lowest point, he thought about taking his own life, before being talked back from the edge by the intervention of his son and a compassionate neighbour.
He leaves behind Karin, his partner, his two children, and brother Chris.
