Maverick man

Chris Cairns hoists a six during a smashing cameo at Lords © Getty Images Enlarge

If you want to pinpoint the exact time and place New Zealand fell in love with Christopher Lance Cairns, you have to travel back to August 1999 and a grey week in London.

New Zealand were playing England at The Oval in the final match of a four-Test series that was somehow locked at 1-1 despite most observers agreeing that the antipodeans should have won all three Tests. On a difficult wicket that nobody looked comfortable batting on, New Zealand eked out 236 before dismissing England for 153, with Cairns shredding England in taking 5 for 31.

Then, as is the familiar tale with New Zealand, they collapsed catastrophically in the second innings. Andy Caddick, a New Zealander, and Ed Giddins, yes, Giddins, had New Zealand reeling at 39 for 6 and heading for another ignominious defeat when Cairns strode to the crease. When he departed with the total at 149, he had 80 beside his name and had hoisted four of his Test-record 87 sixes high into the ether. New Zealand eventually won by 83 runs. It was the ultimate cameo in a career littered with them. It was as if he had come to the crease carrying a broadsword not a bat.

In 93 balls, Cairns transformed himself from prodigiously talented enfant terrible to lovable rogue. He became the cavalier in a country that churned out roundheads. He became compelling viewing, and apart from an injury affected past couple of seasons, has remained that way since.

What you got from Cairns was sometimes missing in the numbers. As impressive as they might have been there was always a hint of underachievement, particularly in the early years. What was never missing was the sense of anticipation.

New Zealand is not a cricket nation; the sport is forever destined to play second fiddle to rugby. But when Cairns walked out to bat the expectation was momentarily as great as when Christian Cullen or Jonah Lomu had the ball in space. People who would sooner spend their summers at the beach would find a spot in front of the telly when Cairns was batting. When you're a cricket follower in these small isles it pays not to look too closely at the big picture. Doing so would leave you with a rather depressing set of Test and one-day international statistics.

New Zealand, aside from one brief spell in the 1980s, does not have a sustained culture of winning. You can count the number of Test series won against cricket's traditional powerhouses on one hand. The semifinals are as far as any World Cup odyssey has progressed. New Zealanders have had to learn to love the little pictures: upset victories; devastating bowling spells; thunderous innings.

Nobody provided more of the latter than Chris Cairns.