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With his open-necked shirt and slicked-back hair – more silver than grey – Robin Smith at 62 still possesses the charisma that made him one of England’s most watchable cricketers of the 1990s. But if he is older now, he is certainly wiser.
As we talk at Lilac Hill, not far from his home in south Perth, his eyes – just about visible behind his shades – emit a very human mixture of warmth and pleasure, disappointment and sadness. Smith has had plenty to be grateful for, and much to test him. By his own admission, he is lucky still to be here.
In his pomp, he was a ferocious sight, his square cut resembling a lumberjack’s swing of the axe, and possibly more powerful. Born in South Africa to British parents, he played 62 Tests for England, averaging 43, and should have played more. He once scored 167 not out from 163 balls in a one-day game against Australia at Edgbaston, which was unthinkable in the days before Bazball.
Now, he has been asked by England Lions head coach Andrew Flintoff to address the team at the end of their four-day match against a Cricket Australia XI. He talks about batting, and about the anxiety that weighed him down. Not one of the players was born when he last appeared in a Test match in January 1996, but they hang on his every word. Typically, Smith didn’t think they would know who he was.
He doesn’t watch much cricket these days, but he was at the Optus Stadium for the all-too-brief first Ashes Test, and watched England’s batting meltdown on the second afternoon. Coached in his youth by the great South African opener Barry Richards, another Perth émigré, Smith remembers the advice he gave him as a nine-year-old back in Durban.
He tells Daily Mail Sport: ‘Barry said “A plus H equals C. Arrogance, to know that you are good enough to score off every ball, plus humility, to play every ball on its merit, equals confidence".
Robin Smith addresses the England Lions squad at Lilac Hill this week
Smith, now 62, lives in south Perth and made the short trip to watch the warm-up match
Not one of the England Lions players was born when Smith last appeared in a Test match in January 1996, but they hang on his every word
‘I love the way these guys play, and I’m not criticising them for one moment. But I just think they have to play with a little bit more caution. It’s not a 50-over game, it’s not T20. You’ve got to bat time.
‘Technically, you’ve got to be a little more reserved. You can’t make a good ball into a s*** ball. If they bowl well, treat it with respect. Forget about your strike rate. They’ve got to remember that defence is also pretty good. They’ve got to have a bit more humility.’
One moment in particular caught Smith’s eye. ‘Harry Brook, I love the bloke,’ he says. ‘But he went for a big slog over mid-on, and it missed off stump by four inches. Had he been bowled… if I’d played that shot and walked back to the pavilion, Goochy, (Ray) Illingworth and (Keith) Fletcher would have packed my coffin and said: “Don’t ever come back to this dressing room."’
Smith played in three Ashes series from 1989 to 1993, and it was hardly his fault that England lost the lot. His total of 1,074 runs at nearly 40 included memorable hundreds at Old Trafford and Trent Bridge, while his strike rate was 49, which would be laughed out of town by the Bazballers.
But he’s been there, done that, and knows that falling behind against Australia is not good news. ‘Look, it’s tough. I’ve been smashed by them in the past. We’ve lost momentum. This was a really good opportunity to have gone one up, and I think we’re going to struggle now. My money was on England. We’ll see how Brisbane goes, but now I’m thinking Australia.’
Smith clearly still cares about the country he left more than 20 years ago to work for a cricket helmet manufacturers in Perth, but life’s ups and downs have lent perspective.
His career had taken place during an era of heavy drinking, with Mike Procter, his former captain at Natal, and Ian Botham among his thirstier companions.
But he believes his mental health began to deteriorate after he was prematurely ditched by England, despite averaging nearly 45 in his final 13 Tests.
Smith once scored 167 not out from 163 balls in a one-day game against Australia at Edgbaston, which was unthinkable in the days before Bazball
With William (left) and Lucan the bulldogs at Lord's in 1993
Smith played 62 Tests in all for England, averaging 43.67 with nine centuries, as well as 71 ODIs
‘If I’m going to be really honest, yeah (it did deteriorate then),’ he says. ‘You know, just seeing guys – who I loved – coming through taking my place, John Crawley or Mark Ramprakash or Hicky (Graeme Hick), and these guys were averaging 28, 29, 30…’
The boozing eventually got out of hand, and last year he spent seven months in hospital battling cirrhosis of the liver.
‘My brother Chris and son Harrison were called in by doctors and told I had a five per cent chance of walking out. So it’s amazing that I’m here talking to you.
'Drinking a bottle of vodka a day for 12 years obviously didn’t do the liver much good, but I went on a strict diet, and I’ve got to be really careful.’
The trauma brought home how he had worn a mask during his career, living up to a persona that wasn’t him, to the extent of answering mainly to a nickname, ‘Judgie’, given to him as a youngster because his crinkly hair resembled a lawyer’s wig.
‘It was always really difficult, because people know Judgie as Judgie, and I’m Robin. Robin Smith.
'I have always been very quiet, reserved, shy. I speak a little bit now publicly about mental health, and I was very, very close twice, within minutes, of finishing my life.
‘I wish I’d spoken to my friends. I didn’t want to burden them with my problems, but I should have reached out to them. Anyone who thinks they might be a burden on their friends, they’re absolutely not. You’ve just got to be open and be yourself. And now I’m Robin, back being shy.’
‘I love the way these guys play, and I’m not criticising them for one moment. But I just think they have to play with a little bit more caution,' he says of the Bazball approach
Graham Gooch (left) and Allan Lamb (right) congratulate Smith on becoming a father in 1990
Last year he spent seven months in hospital battling cirrhosis of the liver, and was given a five per cent chance to live
Life continues to test him. His mother died during the Covid pandemic, and his father – ‘my best buddy’ – only four months ago. Now Karin, his partner of 17 years following a long marriage to Kathy, is undergoing stem-cell treatment in Switzerland after being diagnosed with multiple sclerosis.
‘They phoned me last night,’ he says. ‘They said she’s only got a 60 per cent chance of coming home. It’s a 20 per cent chance of her getting better, and 30 per cent chance of her just levelling out.
‘She used to be a great dancer but she’s in a wheelchair now, and the other weekend I took her to the Windsor Hotel in south Perth, and we listened to our music and I spun her around in the wheelchair.’
He is talking through a mixture of tears and laughter, this great man of English cricket, and for a moment, in a quiet corner of Western Australia, the tribulations of England’s Test team feel miles away.
