Cricket is cruel, and don’t Dale Steyn and Steve Smith know it
Travelling in opposite directions along life’s corridor of uncertainty, but they still have plenty in common
On particular afternoons at unarguably the world’s finest cricket ground, otherwise known as St George’s Park, the slowly setting sun becomes one with the bits, blobs and bulbs of brass bobbing tunefully near the northern end of the grandstand to the west.
When that happens, often during a riff on the intro to Stand By Me – originally eight bars of, essentially, boom-boom-boom-boom – that is not much extended as extruded far beyond what Ben E King had in mind, it’s difficult to know where the music ends and the sun begins.
Sound and light melt into the senses oh so smoothly, and before you can catch yourself you’re lulled into a peculiarly Eastern Cape state of mind where nothing moves too quickly and no one is anything but a firm friend...