“Two Runs Saved There”

I’m getting absolutely sick and tired of writing tributes about all my childhood heroes.

I’ve been sitting on the Andrew “Roy” Symonds passing for a few days now, having been away at Magic Round, but I distinctly remember seeing the news on my phone and immediately going numb with shock.

Our role models as children are people we place on this pedestal. We view them as these untouchable beacons far removed from trivial everyday limitations.

This one hurts.

Everyone knows the quality of player Roy was. He made the gargantuan look absolutely effortless. As a kid in the mid 2000s, the way he tore apart bowling attacks with his brute power and showmanship was box office, but in older age you appreciate the intricacies of his skillset. Calling Roy a pinch hitter is doing the great man a massive disservice.

Roy is one of the smartest cricketers of his generation, with his bravery and confidence coupled with his effortless talent making him one of the most devastating all-rounders in the modern era.

People to this day reminisce in awe about Roy’s 143* against Pakistan in the 2003 World Cup. Here was a man who had struggled early in his ODI career, and who many thought was only in the squad due to the backing of Ricky Ponting. What a turning point that proved to be.

A white ball Goliath though he was, he proved he could hang in the long game, averaging 40 in Tests, and would have played 50 more Tests had he not been part of the greatest Australian team of all time.

But I could go on and on about his cricketing ability for five full days.

I could say how he made bowling both medium pace and offspin in the same over look mundane and normal.

I could say how he reduced some of the biggest grounds in the world to little more than Lego arenas.

I could say how he had an arm you don’t run on, even in the deepest reaches of the MCG.

The reason Roy was such an icon wasn’t his cricketing ability, no, it was the fact that his cricketing ability was just a secondary factor to the man himself. You see it in the tributes that have been flowing in over the past few days.

Quite often you just hear “yeah he was a good bloke” thrown around in a default shrug to pass off a comment, but you see in any interaction with Roy, the light in the eyes of his constituents as he holds court over wacky field placings or one of his many fishing trips with Matthew Hayden.

A common accusation in sport is that confidence equals arrogance, and the showmen of our sports just don’t have the same passion as a good honest grifter. With Roy that couldn’t be further from the truth.

The Big Bash League commentary may be a bit of a goof around at the best of times, a glorified pub table with a few punters yarning about cricket, but you could absolutely count on learning a thing or two about cricket from Roy.

Whether it was shamelessly parading his Brisbane Heat fandom, yearning for a batting powerplay, or jotting down an arbitrary fielding rating in a completely subjective scoring system, the glint in his eyes and the tone of his voice gave away he was still just a kid that loved cricket.

Andrew Symonds made cricket cool. He made it cool to bowl medium pace in an era of Brett Lees and Shoaib Akhtars.

There were kids out there in schoolyards in 2005 at lunchtime cricket throwing themselves around trying to take a screamer or throw down a single stump.

There were kids out there begging Mum to buy zinc to put on their lips “because Roy does it.”

Andrew Symonds is a legend, an icon, and there’ll never be another one like him.

Keep track of the fielding in heaven for us mate.