The Great Individual

The Oval, September 12, 2005. England, needing a draw to claim the Ashes for the first time in nearly 20 years, have a slim second innings lead and are 3 down, having lost two in two deliveries to the exacting Glenn McGrath. Kevin Pietersen, a shock of peroxide blonde spat down the centre of his hair, walks to the crease in his fifth test. He is lucky to survive his first frenetic 20 runs, most famously being dropped on 15 by Hampshire teammate Shane Warne. Following his reprieve, he plays one of the most remarkable Ashes innings in living memory. Swatting one of the best bowling attacks ever assembled (Warne, McGrath, Lee) for a record breaking 7 sixes on his way to 158. Seemingly unaware of the pressure, or the steady precession of wickets at the other end. The draw is achieved.

The MCG, December 27, 2013. England are limping toward yet another subpar total at 7 for 231. Pietersen, on 71, represents their last chance of achieving a respectable score. He plays an ugly swipe at a rampant Mitchell Johnson and is bowled. A fourth consecutive England defeat already looks nigh on inevitable.

These two events serve as illustrative bookends of his career – the giddy euphoria, the limitless sense of possibility of his beginning, and the muted, oddly distracted sigh of his end. In between, he provided plenty of euphoria and plenty of sighs.

Personally, I think the decision to end Pietersen’s career is bad one; England do not look like a side that has the luxury of dropping their best player. Think of Old Trafford, 2013, Headingly and Wankhede 2012, Lords and the Oval 2011 or Adelaide 2010. I could go on and on - no test playing nation escaped a bludgeoning.  All the talk of a terrible influence on team morale, of a disruptive ego and churlish anger was conspicuous by its absence in those instances. But then, we’ve never been especially consistent in our take on sports peoples personalities – we could cite dozens of example that show the difference between, say, gifted tearaway party boy and sad substance addicted embarrassment depends seemingly entirely on how many wins one contributes to.

And perhaps that’s what it comes down to – England were losing, badly, and Pietersen wasn’t bringing anything to the table but that ego and that insecurity. His bad qualities had ceased to have any surplus value. Perhaps it’s just sentimental fandom on my part that makes this all feel slightly wrong. That feels that Pietersen (and Graeme Swann, while we’re at it) helped redefine what English cricket saw itself as capable of and, as such, deserved a little more.

Regardless, this decision, given the timing (England start a transitional period where quality and experience could be useful) and his recent form (hardly stellar by his standards but still the best England mustered on that woeful tour), this decision can be only be interpreted as decidedly personal. With a great individual like Kevin Pietersen, it was always going to be.