The four people in a Cape Town barbershop didn’t betray any sign of knowing. Neither did a crew of around 20 roadworkers down the street contemplating a large hole where the pavement might have been. No-one behind the counter at a buzzing cafe, nor the clientele, further along the drag were any the wiser.
The staff at a gym didn’t know, perhaps because all of the seven televisions in the place were tuned to reruns of the previous night’s matches in the men’s European football championships.
Had you not known better, you would have thought South Africa’s men’s team hadn’t reached the final of a World Cup, the T20 version, for the first time not many hours earlier.
If any of those working out in the gym as Thursday morning turned towards afternoon knew, they didn’t let on. Most of them, anyway. Among the latter was Herschelle Gibbs, who held a series of frenetic conversations that must be what nuclear reactions made flesh would look like.
It was in the midst of these exchanges that Gibbs’ eyes caught those of someone he has known since his playing days. The two men stared silently at each other across the gym floor, and for some strange reason each held up an index finger. The expression on both of their faces was that of someone who had been kissed for the first time.
Gibbs admitted to Cricbuzz that he was “happy, excited and nervous all at the same time; it feels lovely”. He noted that, “I’ve always said that if South Africa reach a final they will win it.” Indeed, Gibbs made that assertion on radio as recently as Wednesday, when he also said he hoped Saturday’s final in Barbados would feature South Africa and India.
He was granted half that wish at 4.37am on Thursday, South Africa time, when Aiden Markram’s team completed a nine-wicket thrashing of Afghanistan in their semifinal in Trinidad. Had Gibbs watched the game? “Nah. When I checked the score Afghanistan were 23/5. There was no point, so I went back to sleep.”
England and India met in the other semi, in Guyana, later on Thursday. Were India still Gibbs’ favoured opponents? It was agreed that “once the Indians get going they’re difficult to stop”, but also that while England have quality spinners in Adil Rashid, Liam Livingstone and Moeen Ali, “Kensington Oval doesn’t turn”.
While he was talking, a woman old enough to be Gibbs’ mother – he is 50 – approached and interrupted the discussion. “Excuse me,” she said. Gibbs: “Yes madam?” She explained that she was struggling to adjust a nearby piece of weight training equipment. Could he help?
Without another word Gibbs accompanied her to the machine, repositioned a cable that had lost its way, set the weight to her desired level, watched her perform the exercise, and offered her tips on how to do so safely and optimally. Clearly clueless about who he was, she thanked him. He smiled and returned to his conversation companion.
Gibbs duly earned his reputation as a rock star cricketer who was never too far from trouble off the field. But, away from all that, he is steeped in basic human decency. His greatest gift isn’t that he played the game better than most people on the planet, and doubtless would have done in any sport of his choosing. Instead it is that he is the most unfamous famous person you could meet. Greet him once and the next time he sees you he treats you as a friend. When you do see him again and you ask how he is his answer is invariably a booming, “Tremendous!”
His good manners were on display on the night of March 16 2007, the day he hit every ball of Dutch leg spinner Daan van Bunge’s fourth over for six in a World Cup match in St Kitts. Gibbs stood dapperly at the counter of a beach bar, a veritable off-duty James Bond. He bought drinks for others and accepted drinks from others, all the while maintaining impeccable behaviour, until at least 2am. Four hours later he strode purposefully up a fairway on a nearby golf course, five-iron in hand.
Was David Miller’s constitution that strong? Just more than 10 hours after the semifinal ended he beamed out of a screen at an online press conference wearing team travelling gear and looking at least as dapper as Gibbs did all those years ago. It was 8.30am in Trinidad. How much sleep had he had?
“Three or four hours,” Miller said. “It’s early, but that’s pretty standard. We’ve had some weird timings. Fortunately, we steamrolled them and finished the game earlier than expected, which was a good result.”
Complaints over the hectic schedule teams have had to keep to make it to the six Caribbean grounds that hosted 36 of the 52 group and Super Eight games and will stage all three of the knockout matches have been rife.
“We haven’t really spoken about it as such,” Miller said. “There have been murmurs here and there, but if I told you exactly how our travel in the last couple of weeks has gone you would be shocked. So it’s been a monumental effort from the management and players to buy into where we are right now.
“It blows my mind that it felt like the tournament dragged on in the beginning, and then we played the Super Eights pretty much back-to-back on different islands. It doesn’t make sense. I think it could have been structured better. But it is what it is, and what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. We certainly are stronger for it.”
South Africa’s four group games were spread over a dozen days, and the first three were played in Nassau County. Their three Super Eights matches were crammed into five days, and they had to go from Antigua to St Lucia and back to Antigua to play them.
But Miller was correct – South Africa were stronger for the experience. All that time on Nassau’s nasty pitch prepared them well for a similar surface in the semifinal.
Did their sudden status as finalists mean a more relaxed programme leading into Saturday’s decider? The question wasn’t asked, nevermind answered. “Apologies, but we have to check out in seven minutes to catch the bus,” the media manager said as she called a halt to proceedings.
Cricket is a major sport in South Africa, but far from the obsession it is in south Asia. Football is to South Africa what cricket is to India, even though the national football teams don’t often get far on the world stage. The Springboks have kept rugby’s profile high by winning a record four men’s World Cups since claiming their first title in 1995.
Cricket hasn’t helped itself by winning only two of their 11 men’s knockout games at World Cups. But, win or lose but particularly should they win, the game’s place in the public consciousness will be elevated on Saturday. Maybe then people will know.
