🔗 Share this article Tributes Paid to The 'Judge', Aged 62. Long before the dawn of the explosive T20 format, few could match the cricket ball with such sheer force as Robin Smith. Built like a boxer yet blessed with the quick feet from his mother, a dancer, he unleashed strokes – the square cut in particular – with such violence that they left dents in boundary hoardings while crushing the hopes of the opposition. Smith, who has died after a lengthy battle with poor health, was a man of profound contradictions. To the public eye, he appeared the embodiment of courageous, aggressive batting, renowned for memorable contests with the world's fastest bowlers. However, beneath this mask of confidence was a person plagued by self-doubt, a conflict he concealed while on the field that subsequently fuelled problems of depression and addiction. Sheer Bravery Mixed with a Desire for Adrenaline His fearlessness against pace was utterly authentic. The motivation, however, involved a combination of innate toughness and an admitted thrill-seeking nature. He seemed was built differently, seeking out the brutal examination of confronting express bowling, which calls for instant responses and an ability to absorb blows. This trait was never better displayed in his famous innings of 148 not out playing for England against the West Indies at Lord's Cricket Ground in 1991. On a tricky surface, as two of the greatest fast bowlers in history, Smith stood firm he positively flourished, apparently delighting in the fierce contest of intimidation and strokeplay. He later described that it left him feeling “tingling”. A Stellar England Tenure Featuring mostly in the middle order, He earned caps for England across 62 Tests and 71 ODIs from the late 80s to the mid-90s. He amassed more than four thousand runs in Tests averaging 43.67, including nine hundreds. In ODI cricket, he compiled almost two and a half thousand runs averaging nearing forty. Perhaps his most ferocious knock came in 1993 at Edgbaston against Australia, hammering a devastating 167. The display was so impressive that even the then commendations from the Prime Minister, John Major. However, in a frustrating pattern, his team ended up losing the game. The Moniker and a Complex Legacy Affectionately nicknamed ‘the Judge’ because of a youthful haircut that looked like a judge's wig, his batting average in Tests was notably impressive, not least because he featured during a period of English struggle. Many believe selectors moved on from him somewhat unfairly after a difficult tour of South Africa during the mid-90s. He admitted in his autobiography, he existed as a dual personality: ‘the Judge’, the arrogant, combative cricketer who lived for conflict, and Robin Smith, a sensitive, emotional man. The two identities suppressed the other. An unshakeable sense of loyalty could also be his downfall. In a notable incident he intervened to protect West Indian colleague Malcolm Marshall against racial taunts at a team hotel. When verbal requests were ignored, he punched the primary abuser, a move which fractured his hand and cost him a lengthy spell on the sidelines. The Difficult Transition Moving on from the game post-cricket was immensely challenging. The thrill of competition gave way to the routine demands of commerce. Businesses involving bat manufacturing did not succeed. Compounded by problems in his marriage and financial woes, he spiralled into alcohol dependency and profound despair. Emigrating to Western Australia with his family provided a new beginning but did not solve his personal demons. At his lowest point, he contemplated suicide, and was only saved from the edge through the care of his son and a compassionate neighbour. His family includes Karin, his partner, his two children, and his brother, Chris.
Long before the dawn of the explosive T20 format, few could match the cricket ball with such sheer force as Robin Smith. Built like a boxer yet blessed with the quick feet from his mother, a dancer, he unleashed strokes – the square cut in particular – with such violence that they left dents in boundary hoardings while crushing the hopes of the opposition. Smith, who has died after a lengthy battle with poor health, was a man of profound contradictions. To the public eye, he appeared the embodiment of courageous, aggressive batting, renowned for memorable contests with the world's fastest bowlers. However, beneath this mask of confidence was a person plagued by self-doubt, a conflict he concealed while on the field that subsequently fuelled problems of depression and addiction. Sheer Bravery Mixed with a Desire for Adrenaline His fearlessness against pace was utterly authentic. The motivation, however, involved a combination of innate toughness and an admitted thrill-seeking nature. He seemed was built differently, seeking out the brutal examination of confronting express bowling, which calls for instant responses and an ability to absorb blows. This trait was never better displayed in his famous innings of 148 not out playing for England against the West Indies at Lord's Cricket Ground in 1991. On a tricky surface, as two of the greatest fast bowlers in history, Smith stood firm he positively flourished, apparently delighting in the fierce contest of intimidation and strokeplay. He later described that it left him feeling “tingling”. A Stellar England Tenure Featuring mostly in the middle order, He earned caps for England across 62 Tests and 71 ODIs from the late 80s to the mid-90s. He amassed more than four thousand runs in Tests averaging 43.67, including nine hundreds. In ODI cricket, he compiled almost two and a half thousand runs averaging nearing forty. Perhaps his most ferocious knock came in 1993 at Edgbaston against Australia, hammering a devastating 167. The display was so impressive that even the then commendations from the Prime Minister, John Major. However, in a frustrating pattern, his team ended up losing the game. The Moniker and a Complex Legacy Affectionately nicknamed ‘the Judge’ because of a youthful haircut that looked like a judge's wig, his batting average in Tests was notably impressive, not least because he featured during a period of English struggle. Many believe selectors moved on from him somewhat unfairly after a difficult tour of South Africa during the mid-90s. He admitted in his autobiography, he existed as a dual personality: ‘the Judge’, the arrogant, combative cricketer who lived for conflict, and Robin Smith, a sensitive, emotional man. The two identities suppressed the other. An unshakeable sense of loyalty could also be his downfall. In a notable incident he intervened to protect West Indian colleague Malcolm Marshall against racial taunts at a team hotel. When verbal requests were ignored, he punched the primary abuser, a move which fractured his hand and cost him a lengthy spell on the sidelines. The Difficult Transition Moving on from the game post-cricket was immensely challenging. The thrill of competition gave way to the routine demands of commerce. Businesses involving bat manufacturing did not succeed. Compounded by problems in his marriage and financial woes, he spiralled into alcohol dependency and profound despair. Emigrating to Western Australia with his family provided a new beginning but did not solve his personal demons. At his lowest point, he contemplated suicide, and was only saved from the edge through the care of his son and a compassionate neighbour. His family includes Karin, his partner, his two children, and his brother, Chris.