11 March 1999
For Tubby, Symmo, and Chopper - a sad parting of the ways
Trevor Chesterfield
CENTURION (South Africa) - There have been so many players quitting
this summer that the pavilions around the Southern Hemisphere have
suddenly begun to take on the appearance of a crowded retirement
village.
No doubt there are more on the way; after the World Cup that is when
there are those young enough to carry on a season or three longer will
also decide it is time to leave the stage to others. They feel the
need to move on and do something else and slip from the public's eye
and adulation.
Some brave enough announce it during an emotional media conference
(the electronic types become a touch paranoid if you call it press
conference) with bright lights and world focus; others tell their fans
on their favourite pay-channel programme and wipe a tear of two at
"call back the past moments, and there are those who issue just a
plain two line statement.
Then we get the few who say nothing other than leaving a fingerprint
on the door handle on the way out. The summer of farewell is long over
when it dawns that Joe Whatever has also quit
Of course, you cannot always believe the last-match-of the-season "I
quit" bit; where the player sells off his kit at the end of March and
in late August rocks up at the training session wearing new togs
saying "I was missing you guys."
But, from Sydney to East London and other points of the compass the
news filters through. First it is Mark Taylor, or "Tubby", the man
they call captain dignity; then Eric Simons, the hero to young and
old; next we had Pat Symcox, the grizzled veteran who loved getting up
the opposition's nose.
Amid all this comes the brief announcement. Kepler Wessels, the man
with "true grit" has been forced out through the knee problem which
saw him step down as a Test player after conceding the captaincy to
yet another from the same Johan Volsteedt coaching school, Hansie
Cronje.
Rumours have it that Courtney Walsh and Curtly Ambrose, their
professional pride smudged by antics abroad and at home of captain
chaos Brian Lara, are to say enough after the World Cup in England,
even Mohammad Azharuddin is giving the idea some consideration, while
Arjuna Ranatunga and Aravinda da Silva see no future for themselves in
a world dominated by fit youth and modern technology which has left
them behind.
What about Salim Malik and Aamir Sohail. Their failure to make the
Pakistan squad for the World Cup is the sort of rebuff to see them
slouch off in a huff. Like Imran Khan, however, the Pakistanis
proclivity for mind-changing is well-known, just ask a Mumbai bookie
to give you odds who will be back; retirement is not quite a word the
Pakistanis readily accept.
We do know, however, how those who made their more recent decision to
retire are going to be missed. It will be the fate of Wessels, Taylor
and Symcox to be remembered for their days of inspiration; all three
are proud yet humble players with the touch of that tough Aussie type
streak which made them who they were: tough and committed, winning was
everything, losing an insult to their ability.
Wessels and Taylor are not elegant batsmen. Their style was occupation
of the crease, gathering the runs with prods and pushes on surfaces
which were more often spiteful to give the quick bowler the edge. And
modern South Africa could do with a Wessels, always ready for
combat. Boundary strokes from either had a touch of granite
resistance; an economic thrust of the front leg, a free flow of the
blade and through the gap. Strokes carved in stone and clearly
committed to memory.
Now Symmo is marginally different, as he is always going to be. In his
early days he scored seven consecutive centuries for his Pretoria
club, Adelaar in the Northerns Premier league. One was of the sort of
swashbuckling character made for the limited-overs slogs; boisterous,
flamboyant and yet as cultured as you are going to ever find Symmo's
batting
The link between Chopper Wessels, Symmo and Eric Simons is that all of
the, at some stage played for Northerns and each one left a nick on
the old Berea Park dressing room door, then headquarters for the
province long replaced by the more elegant, stylish SuperSport
Centurion; a venue of character in a an area which has its own
municipal boundaries south of Pretoria.
The problem with retirement stories is that they are tinged with the
sort of emotional sentimentalism which hides the person's character
and strength. Simons, who once played for Northerns as a fledgling and
began his Currie Cup career before SuperSport or even M-Net had
arrived, would have preferred the quiet exit without the "gold watch"
treatment. It was the way he was as a player who earned the respect of
many.
Wessels, too, when he departed and Symmo, in grand fashion, as it was
with his mate, Fanie de Villiers, a year before when the politics of
the age forced him in to retirement two seasons too many.
Taylor's announcement was always going to be different, wasn't it. The
man with the iron fist in the velvet glove; a man who has become
revered and just a couple of rungs below the great Sir Donald
Bradman. But then, the Australians know how to treat their heroes. It
is time South Africa learned from this example.
Source :: Trevor Chesterfield, Pretoria News