Twenty-five years after Andrew Symonds’ world-record knock proclaimed his presence, Jo Harman looks back on the career of a unique and extraordinary talent. For a while, he was one of the perfect all-around cricketers in the game before departing almost as soon as he came.
“I can still picture his face in the summertime,” recounts Jack Russell of Andrew Symonds’ arrival at Gloucester in 1995. He was starving. I got us in early to work on our fitness that season, and he was outdoing everyone. His hitting and fielding were the best
“His expertise and devotion were unmatched.” Subsequently, he has had troubles, but he was a breath of new air for us. We all felt energised by his presence. We liked his approach and skill.”
Symonds’ outrageous debut innings at Pen-y-Pound, Abergavenny set a first-class record for 20 years. Even though the boundaries were tiny, most of Gloucestershire’s sixes would also have gone that way on most grounds.
Given his uncommon ability to smack a cricket ball with a beautiful violence, Andrew Symonds’ timing was impeccable. The 46-year-old, who died last Saturday in a single-vehicle accident near Townsville, may be regarded as a player beyond or before his time.
His capacity to entertain and offend fit eras before or after his 15-year first-class and international career were phenomenal. Symonds’ distaste of professional cricket’s stringent norms and academic philosophy suited the 1970s and 1980s. Rod Marsh, Merv Hughes, and David Boon were applauded for enjoying a good laugh and drink.
Doug Walters would toss or smoke darts before games. Symonds’ exceptional versatility – boundary-clearing batsman, bowler of deceptive seamers and spin, impenetrable fielder with an accurate throw – would have made him in demand by every worldwide T20 team had he peaked in the last decade.
Symonds built a cult following among fans worldwide over his decade in Australian colours and even more in his beloved Queensland maroon. He became a talisman for many colleagues and is now publicly and sincerely lamented.
His rough-and-tumble rogue attitude conceals his heritage: he was born in Birmingham to an Anglo-Caribbean couple he never knew before being fostered by Ken and Barbara Symonds, schoolteachers who immigrated to Australia in 1977.
The family took frequent camping vacations to the Victorian alps or Grampians area before moving to Charters Towers (135km from Townsville) in 1984, where Ken Symonds taught at famous Geelong Grammar – Prince Charles’ alma school.
The family moved to Queensland’s Gold Coast, where Andrew Symonds grew up with a penchant for fishing and hunting and a cricket talent.
The teenage duo once put up an opening partnership of 446 in an under-19 tournament against South Brisbane. They were retired ‘out’ for 200-plus, but Symonds questioned, “What if we both retire and lose some early wickets and find ourselves in trouble?”
Every player who shared a changing room has a favourite story (typically several) about how Symonds’ crude views and foolish acts became folklore. Andy Bichel wrote ‘T’ and ‘P’ on the shoulder of his bat to remind him of ‘time’ and ‘patience’ every time he faced up. Symonds answered by putting ‘S’ and ‘W’ on the back of his favoured blade, shorthand forewing harder’ Then there was the infamous incident with an unknown lottery ticket vendor in an Adelaide shopping mall who told Symonds the drawing date would be “the 31st of this month.”
“Well, I assume I will get a call on the 32nd,” he reportedly said. They would continue. Michael Kasprowicz reminds him of the “RSPCA wedding date.” Assuring teammates his mother’s name was Barbara. His team’s Perth hotel was pronounced Penn-dezz-vowse,’ he said. Ken Symonds devoted six months to learning in Paris and taught French throughout his career. His son’s only academic award came from Alliance Francaise for reading a French poem at school, suggesting he was being stupid for comedic effect.
As a TV analyst, Andrew Symonds’ real guilelessness and clumsy malaprops belied a gift for home-spun wit that won him, new followers. The mimicry of ex-Yorkshire and England opener Geoff Boycott he refined during county cricket spells in the 1990s provoked laughter that would have assured he was regularly’mic’d up’ if playing T20 cricket now. The absurdly convoluted scoring system’ he invented to assess players’ efforts required multiple-coloured pens to keep a running score. He delivered it with such striking deadpan that it seemed believable he believed in his mad-professor grading tool.
“You do not wear one of them until you are playing Test cricket for Australia, friend,” said the 388th player to do so. However, Andrew Symonds was more than a Baggy Green enforcer. A sense of humour, teamwork and a love of cricket as pure and innocent as his soul made Symonds a vital part of Australia’s most recent golden age.
His early demise saddens the cricket world after the deaths of Barry Jarman, Dean Jones, Eric Freeman, Alan Davidson, Colin McDonald, Rod Marsh, Ashley Mallett, Sam Gannon, Peter Philpott, and Shane Warne in the preceding two years. Millions still remember Andrew in their hearts.
