Collie Smith was destined for glory

 Collie Smith was destined for glory by Shan Razack  Mon, Jul 31, 2017 at 1:28 AM

            ‘Collie’ Smith was destined for glory!

 

His death is probably the most tragic blow ever sustained by West Indian cricket…

                                                "He was three years older than me and already a fine cricketer who seemed destined to become even better. He was more than just an accomplished batsman, having scored big 100s against England and Australia. He was also developing into a very good off-spin bowler. I am serious when I say that he had the potential to be a top class all-rounder, probably one of the world's best."

                                             Sir Garfield Sobers 

 

          There should have been four of them, but Roy Gilchrist did not turn up. After waiting an hour, the others gave up and decided to start without him. Fickle finger or fate, Garry Sobers says in his autobiography. If Gilchrist had turned up on time, or if he waited a bit longer, the tragedy might not have taken place at all.

          That Summer Sobers was playing for Radcliffe in the Lancashire League. Collie had been turning out for Burnley. Three months earlier he had slammed an amazing triple hundred for them against Lowerhouse. Medium-pace bowler Tom Dewdney was bowling for Darwen. The three met at Manchester at the house of a Bajan fan.. After a jovial dinner, and some fruitless hours waiting for Gilchrist, the three cricketers set out to drive south of London, where they were supposed to play a charity game on Sunday. They were in good humor, because by virtue of being late they had avoided the heaviest of the London-bound traffic.

          Smith was the one who took the wheels of Sobers's Ford Perfect. After a while he handed it to Dewdney. And in the wee hours, it was the turn of Sobers. Dewdney moved to the passenger seat and Smith went to sleep in the back. The car was speeding along the A34 near Stone in Staffordshire. At 4.45 am, as they approached the Darlaston Bend, two dazzling headlights blinded Sobers. He had no time to react. Everything went blank. Much later they learnt that they had collided with a 10-ton cattle truck. Sobers regained consciousness after a short while, heard Dewdney making a lot of noise and saw Smith lying on the ground. "How are you little man?" he asked his friend. Smith answered straight away, "I'm all right maan-go look at the big boy."

          An ambulance arrived and took the three to hospital Dewdney, with facial cuts and some lost teeth, remained unconscious for a few hours. Sobers had a dislocated bone in his wrist, a cut eye and a severed nerve in a finger. For all his nonchalance of the moment, it was Smith who had been hit the worst-with serious damage to his spinal cord.

          Three days after the crash, a priest walked into the hospital room in which both Sobers and Dewdney were lying, and start speaking about the whims of fate, life, and uncertainties and tragedies. Finally he reveled the news that Collie Smith was dead.

          The cricket world was shocked. O'Neil Gordon Smith was the favorite son of Jamaica, and had kindled the imagination of the cricket loving island. At 26, he was just maturing into a genuinely great all-rounder. With the supreme gifts of Sobers alongside him Smith could have propelled the West Indies team into an unprecedented powerhouse of all-round strength.

          Instead 60,000 mourners turned up in dis belief and dismay at his cruelly premature funeral at Kingston shocked at the death of Jamaica's favorite son.

          With the three Ws in the evening of their great careers, Smith was integral to the West Indian vision of the sixties. Especially with his excellent record against England, he was expected to be of the key players when Peter May's team would visit in the 1959-60 season. And suddenly it all ended, on that highway in Staffordshire. The life of this vibrant cricketer was snuffed out in its very prime. Smith's final figure show 1,331 runs at 31.69 and 48 wickets with his off-brake at 33.85 in 26 Tests,

          He had hit 104 against Ray Lindwall, Keith Miller, Ian Johnson, and Richie Benaud on debut and 161 against Fred Truman, Brian Statham, his idol Jim Laker and Tony Lock in his first Test against England. He had been named one of the Wisden Cricketers of the year in 1958.

          Popular belief remains that the number were bound to improve with time. If fate not snatched him from our midst and he had played for another decade, one wonders what he could have achieved. Smith had shown only glimpses of his enormous potential.

           Some claimed he was as great a talent as Sobers. The tragic untimely death may have led to tribute tinged with tendency to exaggerate, spilling into the panegyric. But the very fact that such comparison could be tempted underlines what might have been.

          Sobers himself, a close friend and a roommate on tours to England and Pakistan, was mortified-not least because he had been the one driving the car when the fatal collision took place. Few days after the incident, he was charged with careless driving and fined 10 pounds. He was devastated by the implications, the burden of responsibility. He later wrote in his prologue to his autobiography that for awhile the events of that night dominated his thoughts and cricket remained a distant second. When the shock and sorrow subsided, Sobers played against England in the first Test of the 1959-60 series at Bridgetown. He batted 10 hours and 47 minutes to score 226 before being bowled by Fred Truman. According to the great all-rounder he had realized that from then on he would have to do the job of both Garry Sobers and Collie Smith.

          The Australians had completed their first tour to the Caribbean in 1955. For the first time the West Indies had failed to win a Test against Australia. Worst, they suffered their first defeat at home. From the West Indies point of view there were, apart from Sobers, two developments of significance for the future. In the game against Jamaica which opened the tour, a young man made his international debut, batting at number six.

          From a poor background, he had early in his life come under the influence of a great social worker and cricket lover, the Revd. Hugh Sherlock of the local Methodist Church. I remember the Revd wrote the national anthem of Jamaica. Wait awhile! There seem to be a similarity between Jamaica and Guyana. Isn't a priest wrote Guyana's national anthem? My son Shan Razack Jr. confirmed that it was the Rev Archibald Leonard Luker who wrote the lyrics for the national anthem…Dear Land of Guyana, of Rivers and Plains… a month before Independence in 1966. Luker was an Anglican priest in-charge of the All Saints' Church in New Amsterdam, Berbice. The Revd Hugh Sherlock created a club for the youngsters in the ghetto in the western part of Kingston. He had named it Boys’ Town and guided its development into a most valuable institution, which has been responsible for the salvage of hundreds of young boys, who might otherwise have been crushed by the brutalities of ghetto life.

          The young man, who faced the might of Australia’s two most feared bowlers, Lindwall and Miller in 1955 was just 21, and remains the most notable personality to emerge from Mr. Sherlock’s deeply caring attention. He was O.G. “Collie” Smith. He made 169 for Jamaica and was promptly included in the West Indies side in the first Test. His Test debut was equally auspicious when his 104 in the second innings helped Walcott add certain respectability for the West Indian statistics of that match. Also a useful off-spinner, Collie Smith did not do much else of note during that tour but already, he had established himself as a fixture in the side where he remained until his early death in 1959.

          It was this tragedy that kept Collie Smith from the position for his he seemed destined from the outset to be a captain of the West Indies. He would have probably succeeded Worrell in the post. But that is a different story. It was not only that Smith batted with aggressive fluency and bowled inspired spells of off-spin. There was much more to the man. His infection enthusiasm and hugh grin made it apparent that he was enjoying his cricket enormously, and it made him a joy to watch. His natural inclination was to belt every ball, but he had learnt to curb his instincts to attack with some semblance of restraint. He had the knack of picking up valuable wickets with his off-breaks. And he had the ability to lift the spirit of the entire side with his magnificent fielding.

          The death of O’Neil ‘Collie’ Smith in September, 1959, is probably the most tragic blow ever sustained by West Indian cricket. For one thing, Smith who played his first Test match in March, 1955, and his last in March in 1959 was only twenty-six years old when he died. Sobers who felt that Collie Smith was a greater all-rounder than himself; someone who was the people’s hero in Jamaica, and someone who magic spirit was tragically cut short at a tender age.

          Smith’s career slots nearly into a period of rebuilding in the second half of the 1950s when West Indies were shedding distinguished, ageing players in favor of new blood. Cognoscenti of the day fully expected that the great batting triumvirate of Weekes, Worrell and Worrell would be replaced by three promising stars-Sobers, Kanhai and Smith.

          Since we know the glorious heights later reached by Sobers and Kanhai, there is every reason to believe that Smith was destined for similar glory. This expectation was not based only on runs and wickets; it also had to do with Smith’s warmth, generosity, and the overall exuberance of his personality, whether on or off the field.

          In his first Test match at his home ground at Sabina Park, Australia had made 515 for nine declared, and in reply West Indies had mustered up 101 for five wickets when Smith entered to partner Walcott. Consider the circumstances; the five top order West Indian batsmen, including Worrell and Weekes, had already gone, and an inexperienced 21-year-old, last of the accredited batsmen, stood alone between Australia and almost certain victory. Nothing daunted, he stood his ground steadfastly, while Walcott pushed the score merrily along at the other end. The partnership realized 128 runs, of which Smith contributed 44. It was a magnificent start. But Smith’s baptism did not end with this tough-minded first innings performance. Since only Atkinson and the bowlers were left, once Smith was out, West Indies collapsed for 295 in their first innings. Facing a deficit of 256, they had reached a slender total of 22 for two wickets in their second innings when, in a move that seemed to border on panic, skipper Dennis Atkinson plucked Smith out from his relaxed position at number seven, and thrust him in at number four, straight into the limelight to face the full fury of Lindwall, Miller and Johnson and Richie Benaud.

          Admittedly, Worrell was hurt and Atkinson’s options were limited. But consider again what might be expected from a youth in his first Test against the likes of Lindwall and Miller! Whatever his hopes, Atkinson could never have expected the new youngster to lash the Australian bowlers for 104 dazzling runs and achieve the distinction of a Test century on debut. Smith did not maintain this high level of performance during the rest of the Australian tour: he ended with a batting average of 25.75 in eight innings, while he took five wickets for 68 apiece.

          In his next series against New Zealand, he fared worst; but in the ill-fated West Indies tour to England in 1957, he topped the Test aggregate and averages with 396 runs for an average of 39.60. In the third Test in 1957, West Indies followed on, 256 behind England. Greater disaster loomed, as they sank to 56 for four wickets in their second innings. But Smith entered and once again asserted the situation, fighting qualities by scoring 168, including three lofty sixes, one of which was straight driven with such power and daring that the bowler Statham had to applaud as the ball sailed backward high over his head.

          After 1957, Smith did not excel, although he scored well enough. His fourth and last hundred (exactly 100) was against India in Delhi in February, 1959. In the end, the tragedy of Smith’s loss lies in the combined impact on the game of his unfilled promise, his exuberant personality, useful bowling, enthusiastic fielding and sterling character. Collie Smith, however, was a player whose natural capacities were considerable but not touched by the quality of genius. On the other hand, he had immense character. He approached life as a challenge to be overcome by though, by reflection, by analysis and by the harnessing of talent through discipline.

          He was a born leader. Perhaps, George Headley had a hand in the making of Collie Smith, batsman and cricketer. That six over the head of a fast bowler of Statham’s reputation and the many rearguard battles which Smith fought for the West Indies are reminiscent of numerous innings that the greatest of all West Indian batsmen played in the 1930s. Such a connection illustrates a distinct batting tradition in a region notorious for either the absence of traditions or the fragmentation. But even if something of George Headley was reincarnated in Collie Smith, the reincarnation was short-lived, flashing like a shooting star that, for a mere instance in celestial time, brilliantly lit up the firmament, both heaven and earth, before suddenly, tragically, fading away from our view.