"For me, it was trying to look for areas in the moment on that surface." "Maybe ask like AB or some of these guys that are superstars that might have some bits of gold for you," he said after scoring a masterful 95 against India in Hamilton last month.
#MARKED OF KANE HOW TO#
He has even worked out how to score off Jasprit Bumrah, but denies he has done anything special. His style of play suits all three formats, he has Test hundreds in nearly every country, is phenomenal under pressure, has a superb control percentage (which is a statty way of saying he does little wrong), and is a tactically sound captain for New Zealand and Sunrisers Hyderabad. He accepts birthday cake from spectators in Colombo and walks up to thank New Zealand fans for their support after a painful defeat at the MCG. He is generous when praising the opposition, never seen angry on the field, always containing his emotions as he walks off. He always manages to look more enthusiastic celebrating a batting partner's hundred than his own, but even then he's mindful of stepping away to let them soak in the applause. How did he give so much and not lose a bit of himself? And while I walked around in a bubble of existential angst, Kane was stoic, measured, yet willing to speak about the pain of losing without actually losing. Dealing with the bizarrely unfair result was bad enough, but the outpouring of affection for New Zealand from all over the world felt suffocating - like I had no space to grieve myself. The day after the 2019 World Cup final was unbearable. And here he was insisting he hadn't been marked out for greatness. Even in the pre-social-media 2000s, you couldn't read anything about New Zealand cricket without encountering buzz and chatter about this teenage wunderkind and why New Zealand shouldn't wait too long to pick him. In the interview you see Kane visibly blanch at the question (like he'd swallowed some of that erstwhile neck hair) and deny he had ever been one.
#MARKED OF KANE SERIES#
While compiling questions for him for ESPNcricinfo's 25 Questions series two years ago, I put down: "What's the most challenging thing about being a child prodigy?" I expected if not a heartfelt confession at least a self-conscious giggle. He was an impossible ideal.Įngaging, self-effacing, charming: what's not to hate?ĭaniel Pockett / © CA/Cricket Australia/Getty Images Yet don't we all secretly wish for our favourite artist to become a world-famous superstar so we can bask in the sense of validation? As I grappled with my feelings, wondering why I was descending to such unwarranted, childish resentment, I realised the problem wasn't other people. Kane had been an international sensation right since his schoolboy days, with everyone in New Zealand and elsewhere certain he was going to become an all-time great. Obviously all this was happening in my head. Not because he's out but because you appear to care about it as deeply as I do. Why do I have to endure listening to people talk about how he'd break so many records if only he played for a team with a favourable FTP, or about how gracious he was, how modest he was, how universally loved he was? Why did everyone else have to share my disappointment when he got out? And worse, why did they ask so kindly if I was okay when he got out? "No, I'm not okay. Why can't people go worship their Kohlis, Smiths and Dhonis and leave Kane to me, I fretted. I worried that all this attention would mess up his run-scoring, but more that he wouldn't feel special to me anymore. I hated everyone who wrote about his unfussy batting and his self-effacing personality, silently cursing them for being Justin Bieber to the Fjaðrárgljúfur canyon. Here I was thinking of Kane as the indie band I had uniquely stumbled upon and possessively loved, only to see him turn into an international sensation adored by millions. It's just that I started paying attention to the sighs, the lovesick smiles, the affectionate jokes, and all that shameless referring to him by his first name like he's your boyfriend. I know it's not like Williamson gained a huge number of fans only in the last year or so, although I suspect the sharp beard work did attract some. First, Williamson began to style his beard in a way that suggested he could finally see beneath his chin in the mirror, and second, everyone in the world had come to love him, which meant he was no longer mine. But since then, two things changed that took me a while to notice. If this article had been written about a year and a half ago, it would have been about Kane Williamson's neck beard - that abomination creeping up towards his face like water hyacinth across a lake.