Andrew Symonds

This morning I woke to the 7am news and one of the first things that registered in my mind was something along the lines of “Symonds … Twenty20 … sent home…” An instant wave of disappointment swept over me as I realised that I’d never see one of my favourite players in cricket play, again.

I will never forget how devastating he was with the bat. I still vividly remember him in the 2003 World Cup, South Africa. Waqar Younis got fed up with him, bowled him two beamers in a row. At this stage Symonds was on 70-odd. He was destroying Pakistan. He soon went on to crack his first one-day international century, eventuating to 156*. Everyone hailed Symonds as having come of age, finally. And even in the following World Cup, I remember him tearing apart the Indian spin bowling attack with consecutive sixes, some which were hit into the roof of the stadium, others out of the park altogether.

But wow. You always hear about alcohol ruining people’s lives and this is one that sets the epitome of it for me. James Sutherland said it well. “I’m disappointed in Andrew, but I’m also disappointed for Andrew. I’m sad about it.”

I listened to SEN while driving a billion kilometres today. There are some angry callers out there, probably exaggerating to make themselves sound better on radio, but essentially they all had a point. The best argument being how he kept others from playing for Australia.

I can recall the stories about how Symonds never quite fit in with mainstream society, how he had to adapt to just being normal. I still admire him for getting this far. Though, some will argue how many chances he was given by Cricket Australia, it is hard to overlook how difficult it may probably be for him to fit in like the others. Psychologically, socially: he’s just half a step out of beat.

But above everything, I’ll really miss his contribution to my loungeroom entertainment… because Andrew, it has been a pleasure to watch you and follow you.