Typically uncharacteristic of him, Quinton de Kock lets out a wary cry after celebrating his century against Sri Lanka.
PTI
There was something Quinton de Kock said recently which sounded acceptable and understandable at the time, but the more we sit with it, the more you begin to feel for the man and his naivety.
About a month ago, the poster child for lazy elegance said: “…and then I will just go back into society and be a normal person.”
This little bit was casually added as an afterthought to the very end of the 30-year-old’s announcement that he was going to retire from One-day Internationals (ODI) after the World Cup.
This seemingly innocuous sentence, which came a month ago, does fall in line with the way De Kock has gone about his career. Even his retirement from Test cricket in 2021 was not dissimilar. But this announcement wore a different, more fatigued look to it.
This came on the back of the relentless castigation he endured for not having taken the knee at the peak of the Black Lives Matter movement.
De Kock would eventually apologise, and remind people that he too had been a victim of systemic racism, but he argued that he should be allowed to his own version of protest.
Fair as that might seem now and to those not nearly as invested in social activism, those were sensitive times.
In the midst of this storm, De Kock dragged himself from one game to the next. He scored about as prolifically as he always has, but the gravity of the fight, the push and pull of him-versus-them and the nausea of being misunderstood would all take a toll.
No wonder he wants to return to society and be a normal person. Idyllic as his wants are, the odds of that happening anytime soon are next to nil.
For one, he is very much onboard the gravy train of franchise cricket, and he will continue to turn up as a resource for South Africa for some time to come.
Secondly, when you are as gifted as he is, ‘normal’ is not particularly feasible, least of all in Johannesburg.
Take Saturday evening for instance: South Africa were asked to bat by Sri Lanka in their opening World Cup game at the Arun Jaitley Stadium in New Delhi, and the pitch was essentially a slab of concrete and predictability.
Batters with De Kock’s ability do not need much to go their way to get going. Here, he had a lot.
From the time he played back-to-back cover drives - classy shots those - off of Kasun Rajitha, it was obvious that the only way De Kock could get out is should he try too hard and manufacture shots.
He did not. He stayed about as poised in stance and technique as his partner in crime Rassie van der Dussen. Oh, the runs arrived in haste.
Save for a reverse sweep and a reverse paddle, De Kock stayed conventional and was rewarded with his maiden century at a World Cup.
De Kock, as one can expect, is not one for all-out celebrations. It is usually a relaxed, droopy-eyed show of the blade towards the dressing room or some such throwback stuff.
But this day was different, he literally shuddered and shook off the calm he observed in playing the pull to bring up the century and proceeded to scream and yell within the comfort of his helmet.
He eventually, calmer now, snuck his head out and acknowledged the dressing room, his peers and the crowd. It was so uncharacteristic and yet so fitting.
He did get out the very next ball, but it did not matter any more. South Africa were steamrolling Sri Lanka’s bowlers, and De Kock had made enough of a statement.
Somewhere along that walk back to the pavilion, where everyone in his proximity offered him a pat on the back and a dose of reverence, it must have occurred to De Kock that normalcy is a privilege he is not likely to enjoy for some time to come, or ever.