Jacques Kallis - My Favourite Cricketer

Why Jacques Kallis is Chris Smith's favourite cricketer

I was first engrossed in cricket during South Africa’s 2003 trip to England. The South Africans were different creatures to other cricketers: huge in presence and character. I was awestruck.

Graeme Smith was a 22-year-old horse of a man who was already Test captain and could score double-centuries with ominous inevitability. Shaun Pollock bowled like Glenn McGrath but wasn’t Australian, meaning I didn’t hold an obligatory grudge against him. Add Herschelle Gibbs and Gary Kirsten in a top three with Smith and they were the best side I had ever seen.

In between commentators lamenting Dewald Pretorius’ inconsistent bowling, the enigmatic name of Jacques Kallis kept appearing. He wasn’t playing, but I waited to see what the fuss was about. Kallis missed the opening two Tests to spend time with his terminally ill father, Henry, his inspiration during his early career. He came back for the third Test at Trent Bridge and despite doing little damage in the series with only one fifty, he did take a matchwinning 6 for 54 at Headingley that remained his career best. I quickly grew to admire him – he knew what his purpose was on a cricket field.

The introduction of Sky Sports into my life after the series meant that I could continue to follow Kallis, watching every series in South Africa over the winter. He had an unquenchable desire to score runs and stay at the crease. Kallis knew that should his team get in bother, he would unquestionably save the day. No sweat. That’s what he had me believe, anyway. His unwavering look of concentration made you feel safe as a fan, and no doubt as a team-mate, you knew he wasn’t about to chip one to mid-off.

I felt a sense of personal triumph whenever he succeeded. I was rooting for him regardless of whom I should have been supporting. I felt synonymous anger to triumph when he was done an injustice, too. I was incandescent with rage when Craig McMillan had him lbw while chasing a record-equalling sixth century in consecutive Tests. This glut started soon after his father’s death in 2003 where he scored 1,503 runs in 12 Tests from the start of 2004.

Kallis said his father’s passing put cricket in perspective rather than actively thinking about it while batting. I drew on this after I lost my grandad in 2010. He was my father figure growing up and my inspiration. Despite travelling half the distance of the country to watch me play; he didn’t know huge amounts about cricket, insisting his only sporting achievement was that he “let in plenty” as goalkeeper for the navy’s football team in World War Two.

Grandad would have approved of Kallis’ labour-intensive bowling efforts, too. His furrow would deepen by two inches over the course of a spell. His bustling action reflected that bowling was not always his favourite pastime, but he used his broad shoulders to exceed 90mph, making a grunt on release that was not dissimilar to the noise Grandad made when he got out of his armchair. In his penultimate Test against India at the Wanderers in 2013, he bowled 20 second-innings overs after Morne Morkel hobbled off at lunch with an ankle problem. He took 3 for 68. Kallis was a professional to the end, even if exhausted.

No player has inspired me more; from seeing him loft his arms to the sky towards his father when he finally made a double-century against India in 2010, to that final hundred in his last Test at Durban.

I’m now starved of a sporting hero but I’ll take comfort in knowing who to refer to as the greatest of them all if I’m one day asked by my own grandchildren.