To the edge of extremity

How much do we really know about Brian Lara? © Getty Images

What do they know of genius who only its flaws know? No contemporary cricketer has invoked the word so commonly; none has had it so consistently prefaced by the word flawed than Brian Lara.

A genius, by definition, demonstrates exceptional creativity or ability. Romanticism saw it as a driving force that was beyond a person's control, almost identical with the Classical notion of genius as divine madness. Writing that Garfield Sobers was as typical of West Indian cricketers as one could get, CLR James invoked another concept of genius that linked it with the dominant spirit of a place - its essence.

"All geniuses are merely people who carry to an extreme definitive the characteristics of the unit of civilization to which they belong," he said. Simply put, genius is exceptional, extreme and talented. One might even add: obsessive.

When we describe its behaviour as eccentricities or flaws; what we might term its failings, we are really trying to draw a phenomenon into manageable frameworks for our understanding. We are looking with ordinary eyes at something that lives at extraordinary boundaries.

And so, we misunderstand. We misunderstand because we do not quite grasp the energy and focus of the driving forces.

Applauding the batting of Brian Lara, we summon the word genius to describe him and his feats. What we have seen out there in the middle is the result of a mind driven by an obsession. A child, little bigger than his bat, standing by the road hoping to get a ride to practice. A thin young thing who would bat at marbles, who would wear out his little army of bowlers because he never wanted to stop. He wanted to be the best and he worked untiringly at it, following his path, heedless of the consequences that would become the tragic touchstone of his career.

See the sweet little boy in the Bmobile advertisement who asks wistfully when his bowler leaves, "Who will play wit me now?" That is Brian Lara thirty years ago. The difference is that this little sweetie now has the opportunity to have an international sports star come up and offer him another chance at the game. That's how far cricket has come.

Like his methods or not, it is primarily through Lara that West Indies cricket has lifted its ante and become a sport with money for players. What Kerry Packer pioneered in the late 1970s with his World Series Cricket that revolutionised income levels was taken to maturity by Lara's success and his close attention to maximising revenue.

However you choose to view his firm grasp on his value as a player and his demands for payment reflecting that scale, it rippled through the cricket community. No other player in West Indies cricket history has benefited as handsomely from sponsorships and endorsements as Lara.

The West Indies Players' Association (WIPA) was fortified by it and the West Indies Cricket Board was forced to accept that it now had to negotiate with players. Contract disputes were introduced as part of the cricket package. For years now, no series has been undertaken without some legal wrangle, and while the squabbling has been monotonously infuriating, especially as both sides are often unconvincing in their demands, it is the beginning of a different relationship between players and administrators. If only they would come down to accepting some realities about performance-linked packages, building partnerships and creating an environment of trust and respect, they'd go a long way towards genuine progress.

The relationship between the WICB and its players has been a sour one for far too long. Trust went dancing out the door so long ago that it is clear that not even those supposedly sitting on the same sides would be comfortable if the lights were turned off for a moment in a room where they sit together.

It is a culture of mistrust that affects players and administrators alike. Lara has had his share of that; has been part of it for practically his whole adulthood so that it has inevitably shaped him as well. Can you imagine what it must be like to live your life in such a poisonous environment? All around there is conniving and backstabbing; what is its impact on an individual?

With bat in hand there was no doubting Lara's genius © Getty Images

Lara has been seen as an undermining factor to most of his captains from Richie Richardson onwards. Word is that his contempt hung like hatchets over their heads, destabilising their leadership and making their positions untenable. It has been said that his has been the final word on cricket decisions far too often for the WICB, coaches, managers and other support staff to tolerate. He has offended many on his long journey, some irreconcilably, and because they all remain locked within the same circuit, the atmosphere can hardly be described as genuinely genial. Indeed, many watchers of his final international match at Kensington Oval concluded that even the team had turned on itself.

Hardly anyone needs convincing that it is a single problem - Laraesque or otherwise - eroding West Indies cricket. If you take them all into consideration, they amount to a decaying culture of decadence. West Indies cricket has been living on borrowed time, shamelessly plundering the spoils of a past generation without any real effort to create its own halo.

Tragically for Lara, he entered the game early enough to taste the ambrosia of success, but too late to savour it. He's known personal glory many times over, but has not enjoyed the culture of victory. When a team and its management constantly face public censure, it must breed some testiness within. Worse, when everything seems to operate under a saga boy sub-culture - and when I say this, make no mistake, I am not referring only to the bling-bling boys, I include the ego-stricken old boys who would do anything to parade the world at someone else's expense - nobody seems to have the commitment and discipline to care to change.

Last September, Lara had discussed indiscipline with Cricinfo Magazine, saying that it was not only a player problem. "...it can stem from deep-rooted problems in the administration. I don't think you'd see an indisciplined team if you have a disciplined board. If you have a disciplined board, they would know exactly what they want from their players. You need to see the whole spiral, where it starts from."

Lara has had outbursts before, many indirectly aimed at the administration, though lately they have been more frontal; but none as distressing as the 1995 cry that cricket was ruining his life. It had been the beginning of superstardom and the end of a private life. As he sipped at the cups of glamour and glory, he found its aftertaste was a bitter stripping.

"My life has been played out in public," said Lara as he bid farewell; it could not have been a comfortable experience. He has been analysed and chastised, demonised and deified. For every perceived foible we should ask ourselves if he is taking the characteristics of his society to the extreme. Is he all of us writ large?

Take him on the field, that incredible appetite for runs: not only has he scored more runs than any other Test batsman in history; he has scored the biggest hundreds, all of them thrilling, yet patiently constructed. How does one reconcile this with the flashing temperament of our contemporary players who can provide little more than a spot of excitement before succumbing to yet another injudicious stroke? Lara has been both builder and destroyer - to the extreme.

He has the capacity, the stamina and the focus to build massive innings more consistently than any other player. He has carried West Indies cricket for many years. In its darkest hours, you have to admit that if Lara were not on the team, few would pay money to watch the Windies play. It must have been a heavy load.

In his long career, he has built many rooms for the house of cricket, kept it alive even when its breaths were shallow. He has been the inspiration for many young cricketers. At the same time, just as he has often presented two conflicting faces to the world, he has been a great destroyer. Destructive to bowlers and devastating captains as he demolishes their best bowlers and finds every gap in the field.

Within his own camp he has been accused of countless misdeeds, some say he has been more destructive than constructive. As divided as he seems, so too has he been divisive. We have loved and hated him just as much as he must have loved and hated us. For people like Lara, carrying the mantle of hero must be to perpetually stand in solitude - even in a crowded party. Who understands you? Who is your friend? Your every gesture is open to misinterpretation, your every move the subject of rumour and speculation. His has always been a guarded veneer; innocence and trust abandoned his face very early. The possessive public etched its own lines onto his demeanour and in a society that cannot yet decide what it wants of its heroes, or its leaders, the lines have no clear shape.

We know too much and still we know too little of the man to truly understand. Perhaps it is because when we study him, it is not to understand, but to entertain ourselves.

We know that he has left a legacy. In cricket he has been a sparkling champion. He has been a sublime sportsman, never defacing his sanctum. Yet his behaviour has been baffling and distressing at times, making it hard to form a consistent image of the whole. Truth is, we are all some of this and some of that - Brian Lara takes it to the extreme.

The perfect genius.