The Bard of Summer

You might think it a slow weekend in sport when the number one story on a Monday is about a journalist rather than an athlete or team.

But given that respected cricket writer Peter Roebuck took a header out of a sixth floor window during police questioning regarding allegations of sexual assault and has subsequently left the cricket world in mourning, it’s no real surprise that’s the case today.

Roebuck has been painted by his peers in the media as a solitary man, deep thinking and erudite – the latter seemingly the description of choice.

He has also been spoken about in shadier terms by some folks I know. They hark back to his conviction for common assault in 2001 and a seeming smugness that, to some, had Roebuck pigeonholed as abrasive, arrogant and ‘dodgy’.

'Misunderstood’ is probably closer to the truth.

The scribes and the radio guys have clearly lost a respected and talented colleague and for cricket lovers in Australia, one of the game’s unique voices will speak to them no more through crackling radio sets on summer days.

Roebuck’s shoes will not be filled easily – and maybe not at all – and this is something decision makers on the Fairfax sports desk must be really grappling with today.

As well as being an ever-present on ABC Grandstand for a number of years, Roebuck’s column has been a staple on the daily cricket diet of broadsheet readers around Australia.

Whether his readership extends to devotees of the daily tabloids is a moot point.

From all reports, Roebuck would not have cared who was reading his column, only that what they read stimulated thought and vigorous debate.

While I didn’t always share his opinion on the game in Australia, it would be remiss of me to deny that Roebuck’s column held my interest, sometimes left me fuming, but always got me thinking about the state of the game.

From my limited knowledge of the man, I doubt he would have wanted more – of me or any reader.

I once crossed paths with Roebuck, during the 2003 Test series between the West Indies and Australia.

I had managed to bluff my way into a press pass for the Caribbean tour – needless to say it is the only time the Cooma-Monaro Express has had a staff journalist cover an international cricket series, but that is probably a yarn for another time.

Roebuck’s was one of several faces I recognised in the media enclosure at the Recreation Ground in St Johns, Antigua. He would wander in and out, around the boundary and behind the grandstand, always recognisable under a wide-brim straw hat.

This was the final test in a one-sided series, but the Windies had an ace in hand at Antigua, successfully chasing down a record fourth innings score to win against Steve Waugh’s all-conquering side.

During one afternoon’s play, Roebuck had Mark Waugh’s left ear while I sat to ‘Junior’s’ right, straining to hear just what the two were discussing.

Whatever it was, Waugh didn’t seem particularly interested because he turned to me at one stage and asked: “What do you think?”

Problem was, I didn’t think. Or wasn’t at the time, anyway.

I mumbled a lame response, embarrassed and probably appearing ignorant, and most-likely flicked my press pass around so neither Roebuck nor Waugh could see who I represented.

I’m not sure either cared – about my employer or my opinion.

Waugh had manufactured the chance he needed to break away from Roebuck and Roebuck could rest-assured he possessed a superior cricket intellect than me.

I probably do him a disservice by implying he was concerned with such a trivial matter, but it was Roebuck’s supreme intellect that saw him so revered by his cricketing peers.

His literary style earned him more fans than his playing prowess and in the last couple of days has seen the emergence of his posthumous epithet as The Bard of Summer.

But memories of his playing and professional life may not be all we are left to reminisce on.

Peter Roebuck is history but his legacy is yet to be determined.

Given reports that he leapt to his doom amidst questioning over an allegation of sexual assault, the sad truth is there’s already a hint of tarnish on the Roebuck name.

South African police will conduct an inquest into the journalist’s death, but on the surface it seems less likely he was thrown from the sixth floor by a heavy-handed lawman than the possibility he made a snap decision to shuffle off this mortal coil in the face of a heavy scene.

In 2001 Roebuck escaped jail with a suspended sentence for an assault in which he caned the bare buttocks of three young South African cricketers living under his roof and tutelage in England.

Whether the fresh allegations were in any way similar remains to be seen and it is to speculate wildly to suggest this shady chapter in Roebuck’s colourful life weighed heavy on his mind during his fraught final moments.

The Sydney Morning Herald quoted ABC cricket anchor Jim Maxwell as saying he admired Roebuck for “his humanity, his caring and his striving for justice”.

Vic Marks, writing for The Guardian, pointed to the ‘hidden’ Roebuck – a complex individual reluctant to reveal the man behind the astute media persona and troubled by demons that may be a potential factor in his suicide.

Was Roebuck hoping to avoid the justice that may have followed if the allegations in South Africa are proved true?

Ultimately, Marks has been left wondering why his friend stepped into the dark Cape Town night.

And we are all in the same boat.