Shocked this morning to hear that Peter Roebuck had died. He was my favourite cricket commentator and reporter, fearless, incisive, and always entertaining, his was a distinctive and elegant voice. He had a beautiful, resonant way with the English language that elevated these games of cricket into contests of deeper import. It was only a couple of hours ago that I read what now transpires to be his final piece. Now he’s dead.
I find myself more affected by this than I might have imagined. I didn’t always agree with what he wrote, but often did. I loved his passion and perspective on the game that went beyond the fence. His is a voice we have become familiar with over many summers, and expected to for many more summers to come. Though he was English born he became a great Aussie, and the love for his adopted home is clear in the article I have clipped here. I will miss him.
I suspect there will be more to this story to come out. He was a flawed individual like all of us, and divided opinions. It seems likely that he took his own life, and quite possibly as a consequence of earlier events which will surely come to light. I don’t know what unsavoury news will come to hand, though I can guess. Regardless, my memories of him will be of that voice, that quiet sense of humour, that insight, passion and straight talking. It’s a very sad day.