I woke up this morning to the sad news that former Somerset captain Peter Roebuck had committed suicide in a Cape Town hotel, aged only 55. To many people, especially in South Africa and Australia, he was well known as a journalist and commentator but Somerset fans of a certain age (for example, mine!) will remember him as a respected, long-serving opening batsman who skippered the county at a difficult time in their history.
As a product of Millfield School and Cambridge University, Roebuck also looked the part of the archetypal intellectual sportsman. Tall, bespectacled (always a giveaway!?) and steady of technique, it was inevitable that he would become captain of Somerset. However he had to wait until the glory days had faded before he got the chance to lead on the field on a permanent basis. He had enjoyed his brief spell as stand-in captain during the 1983 World Cup when the county lost the services of its star players. In 1986, he divided the county supporters when the board had to choose between retaining the services of the ageing and increasingly unmotivated megastar Viv Richards and his fellow West Indian Joel Garner or hand the overseas slots to younger talent like Martin Crowe and Steve Waugh. After some acrimonious votes, Viv and 'Bird' were released, Ian Botham stormed off in a huff and the county had to rebuild under Roebuck. It is often forgotten that in 1985 and 1986, Somerset were one of the weakest sides in the tournament even with the aforementioned Caribbean legends and I remember at the time supporting the decision to let them go.
Peter was never the most exciting of batsmen, but he accumulated more than 17,000 first-class runs at an average of 37, plus more than 7000 in one-dayers and many more successfully playing Minor Counties cricket for Devon until his mid-40s. He even received the accolade of one of Wisden's Cricketers of the Year in 1988. When playing alongside quicker scorers like Denning, Richards, Botham, Rose and Burgess, he didn't need to go for his strokes. However, he was a brilliant anchor. I recall taking a train trip, post-exams, to Bath for a 40-over game at Bath against Gloucestershire one fine June Sunday afternoon. There was a real festival atmosphere, with crowds mingling with the players on the pitch before the start, and it was a good match. Viv and Botham against Procter and Zaheer Abbas. We won and guess who was Somerset's top scorer? Botham may have hit the ball over the marquee roof in a cameo innings but the redoubtable Mr Roebuck made an invaluable 73, I think it was.
I was amused to read that he had started out as a leg-spinner batting at eleven. However, he gradually moved up he batting order both at school, Cambridge then Somerset. He had to earn his stripes struggling against the pace of Andy Roberts but took pride in bringing the best out of the world's quickest bowlers who prized Peter Roebuck's wicket.
He had already been eased out of Somerset well before he made headlines for all the wrong reasons a decade ago, pleading guilty to assaulting teenage cricketers by caning them when they didn't perform as expected. Unsurprisingly there were mutterings about what else might lie below the surface but when confronted by a slightly eccentric loner, the tabloids always leap to wrong conclusions. I was reassured when Roebuck forged a reputation as an opinionated writer on the other side of the world. His 1983 book 'It Never Rains' was the first cricket volume I ever bought for myself and I enjoyed his perceptive but light-hearted style.
He may have got over the court case by establishing his journalistic career but today's news showed that life sometimes got too much, whatever the reason. He can't be castigated for that. Instead he should be remembered as an acerbic writer and commentator, as well as one of the finest county opening batsmen never to have played for England, a great servant of Somerset and the sport of cricket.
