Ryan McLaren: a player graced with more than a touch of class
● We’re in Paarl on December 22 1994 and a skinny 11-year-old’s heart thumps out of time to the steps he takes to mark out his run-up.
A pitch is a lot longer than 22 yards when you’re skinny and 11. The wicket at the far, far end of it is frighteningly smaller than the 28 inches high nine inches wide — 71.1 by 22.9 centimetres — it is when you’re closer.
The kid takes a deep breath and runs in to bowl …
From that moment until last Sunday at Buffalo Park, when, now 36, he marked out a run-up again and bowled the last two overs of his career, he sent down 40,514 deliveries in almost 25 years as a representative cricketer.
He had reason to smile more often than not: of his 622 games he helped win 266 and was part of 245 losses.
That day in Paarl he played for Free State’s under-13 side against their Griqualand West counterparts. Last Sunday he walked into the sunset by opening the bowling for the Knights against the Warriors in a T20 game.
He did well all those years ago for Free State, taking 3/20 to help his team dismiss Griquas’ pikkies for 85, and again on Sunday, scoring 39 not out and claiming 1/19 from two overs in a losing cause.
Between those bookends he played two Tests, 54 one-day internationals and a dozen T20s for SA — which was no sure thing considering England were after his services — and first-class cricket for Free State, the Eagles, the Knights, the Dolphins, SA A, Kent, Hampshire and Lancashire.
His best was worth having. You knew he would do the job, and do it solidly
He has 154 first-class caps, 210 list A games and 186 T20s.
His retirement in East London last weekend caught few headlines.
Not for him the anguish that accompanied AB de Villiers’ decision to step off the international carousel, nor the widespread worry whether Dale Steyn’s latest shoulder problem will be the last shrug of his time at the top.
Ryan McLaren wasn’t that kind of cricketer.
He never invented outrageous ways to hit the ball, nor found previously unplotted paths to beat the bat.
But he did give his best, over in and over out, for innings after innings, match after match after match.
And his best was worth having. You knew he would do the job, and do it solidly. He was that unsexy, but invaluable thing: reliable. He was also a pleasure to deal with, which you can’t say about everybody.
Now, having packed up his everyday consistency, his unfussy high quality, and his good manners, he’s moving on with his life while his knees are still on good terms with the rest of him.
The happy news for cricket, then, is that McLaren plans to stay in the game in this country.
He has a coaching arrangement at Grey College and some ad-hoc commentary work with SuperSport lined up, and he’s interested in becoming a player agent. One of these months he should have a qualification in business and sports management.
There’s no guarantee he will be part of cricket for the rest of his working days, and it wouldn’t be fair to ask him to commit to cricket in South Africa.
But it is reassuring, especially at a time when the game in South Africa is facing challenges at every turn, that someone of McLaren’s intelligence and common decency, and someone who wouldn’t struggle to land a job on the county circuit, chooses instead to stay and continue making what will always be a valuable contribution to the greater cause.
In the midst of tone-deaf administrators who seem to go out of their way to antagonise the rest of the game — especially the players — an alarming financial situation, a domestic system that looks ever more likely to fall over and stink to confirm its death, and with exponentially fewer South Africans than ever looking forward to the looming World Cup, that’s something.