Farewell Vernon Philander, an understated genius who was modern cricket’s exception to the rule

It is not easy to gauge a player’s legacy when they are approaching the end. Often you need time to let the swell of emotion dissipate to allow a judgement from head rather than heart.

But as Vernon Philander announced he is to retire from international cricket after the upcoming four-Test series against England, you could say it here and now. Philander was the exception to the rule.

Since establishing himself as a regular international bowler in 2011 (there were 14 ODIs and T20is before then), the pace bowler’s sustained success has deemed him more than worthy of the “modern day great” tag.

He was the joint second-fastest to 50 Test wickets, his country’s fastest to 100 (in 19 appearances) and was the Proteas’ standout player of 2012 which was when they reached the summit of the ICC Test rankings. With 216 scalps, the 34-year old is South Africa’s seventh most successful bowler. What set him apart, though, was how he picked those up.

Because, in this decade, the physical expectations of pace bowlers has gone up a notch. If they are not towering giants, then they are of stocky, boxer-like frame, relying on their power to force the ball down. Otherwise, they are sleek, supple-shouldered types who make such a physically taxing pursuit look balletic. All three, ideally, hitting speeds in the late eighties.

Philander, though, is none of the above.

He is relatively squat and as flexible as lego at the start of his spells. His run-up is not the smoothest, feet shuffling to the crease like he's trying to remove dog muck from the soles of his shoes. When he was out for long periods, he would return with the faint outline of a paunch through his white shirt. His operating speed was usually between 78 and 83mph. And all this goes to show is just how damn good he was.

Philander’s greatest strength – or strengths – was his ability to do all the simple things well. At the peak of his powers, such as that 2012 campaign when he took 43 wickets at 21.11, he could nail all the fundamentals in sync: hammering out a length over after over, landing it on the seam and being able to manipulate the ball either way, both before and after pitching, like he was sending down a Yo-Yo.

That movement was never over the top, aways just the right about to claim the edge on the outside or beat it on the inside. Always operating on the right side of “enough”. Many of the game’s best batsman, like Steve Smith, Kevin Pietersen, Alastair Cook and Kumar Sangakkara have openly admitted to struggling against him.

Watching clips of Philander’s spells – from his five for 15 on debut against Australia to his career-best six for 21 against the same opposition just last year – it’s hard to pick a standout dismissal. They’re all basically the same: challenging the batsman’s stumps and giving batsmen's technique an MOT they usually fail. There weren’t many – if any – uprooted stumps or face-melting bouncers. Just a series of locks picked. Sleights of hand and wrist.

In many ways, Philander was a throwback in an era when strength and conditioning for fast bowlers was becoming more specialised. He was and will continue to be cited as an example of someone who did not need to bowl above 85mph to succeed at Test level, nor one who squatted and dead-lifted his way to the top. Further proof of Muhammad Ali’s belief that champions aren’t made in the gym.

Yet, even as we approach the end of a distinguished career, it is hard not to wonder if more time in the gym might have given him a shot at more games if not more time. Both director of cricket Graeme Smith and Test skipper Faf du Plessis have criticised his fitness in the past even if their words will be glowing in the coming days.

You only need to look at James Anderson in the opposition dressing room, three years older than Philander and in much better nick, to see how effective self-care can be. And, maybe, had he made it more of a priority, he could have sustained that fast start in which he claimed nine five-wicket hauls in his opening 15 Tests. He picked up just four more in the next 45.

As such, it feels like we are not just bidding farewell to Philander but the last hint of casual professionalism, of a player doing things his own way and succeeding at the highest level. Which is a shame because there is always a danger that seam bowling, through its countless “don’ts” and handful of “dos”, will become too homogenised.

In keeping with the man, there is a whiff of old school about his retirement. There will be no farewell appearances in T20 leagues, though there is a chance he might squeeze a couple more years out of himself in county cricket, where ageing medium pacers go to thrive. There are rumours of Kolpak gigs in the offing.

For now, he has four more Tests to pick up some more wickets that could take him beyond 230. Thankfully, an action that never much relied on bending his back will allow him to serve up some of that craft one last time, even if 2019 has been a less than stellar year for him.

What is important to remember, though, is that Philander was an understated phenomenon. A bowler more effective at a stroll than countless others were at full tilt. One who never needed fear to unnerve batsmen, just his incredible knack of working out anyone who stood 22 yards away.

He will continue to be used as *the* case study of how you can be successful as a quick without bowling quickly, or excel as an athlete without being athletic. All true, of course. But only if you're Vernon Philander.