Presence, pride and professionalism

Surrey's surprise round of belt-tightening, which led them not to offer new contracts to Alec Stewart and Ian Ward, means that Stewart has played his last game of professional cricket. Fittingly, it was a great match - the remarkable comeback to win the final Test against South Africa - but his abrupt decision to retire from first-class cricket as well leaves an empty feeling, almost as if he'd missed the last step at the top of that steep staircase leading to the Oval dressing-room.

Perhaps it's fitting that there will be no tearful Surrey farewell for Stewart. After all, he hasn't played a full season for them since 1990, when he became an England regular. Before that, though, he had almost ten years of the county circuit, in which he became a master of the polished 70-odd.

He might not have played much for Surrey recently, but somehow Stewart belongs under the chocolate-brown cap, and it would have been hard to adjust to those chiselled features being crowned by the Hampshire rose or the Leicester fox - or, Heaven forbid, the three seaxes of that lot north of the river.

What you can imagine is that Jon Batty, who has scored plenty of runs himself for Surrey in Stewart's absence, wasn't too thrilled at the thought of turning out for the stiffs while the old boy went on a farewell tour of the counties next season. Even so, it's hard to understand why someone who, according to the selectors, was the best wicketkeeper in the country a fortnight ago is now out of a job. Actually it's more because Stewart himself didn't fancy it. On Sunday, he told the News of the World: "There's no point just turning up to play for the sake of it. I've always striven to get to the top, ie England. Once that has gone, why are you playing?"

And so we are left to assess Alec - and without taking the Micky. The junior Stewart has been as squeaky-clean as one of his nicknames almost throughout his career - cricket whites, boots and opinions all neatly polished. Journalists wanting a sensational soundbite eventually stopped trying to get blood out of the Gaffer, which is why it's widely assumed now that following Mike Atherton into the commentary box isn't an option.

The sports-management business is a more likely scenario. You can imagine Stewart jumping into well-pressed blazer and chinos for a meeting with all the alacrity he showed in donning the three lions 133 times in Tests and 170 times in one-dayers.

He'll be remembered as a good wicketkeeper and a fine batsman - but once again there's that missing-step feeling. He could have been one of the great batsmen, up there with his old mate Goochie and the like, if he'd been left to open the innings and not saddled with the wicketkeeping gloves. The stats are conclusive: in Tests he averaged a Mercedes 46.70 when not keeping wicket, a Mondeo 34.92 when he did. Most of the regular keeping came later in his career, when he might have expected to be building that already excellent average.

It's ironic that Stewart follows his fellow fortysomething, Robin Smith, into retirement in the same week. They were singled out by Ray Illingworth, the manager, as the fall guys for the miserable 1995-96 season, when defeat in South Africa preceded a wan World Cup. Neither Stewart nor Smith was in the side for the first home Test of 1996, against India, but Nick Knight broke a finger in that game and Stewart returned for the second, and biffed 66. Smith never played another Test for England: Stewart managed to squeeze in another 80.

The Judge will be remembered for his crunching square cut. The Gaffer had no such signature stroke. There was the pinpoint cover-drive, with the bat drawn forward as if on a string; the hard-hit pull, to balls lower than usual for that shot, which sent them scudding towards the midwicket boundary; and sometimes a busy back-and-across, bat twitching, before clunking an on-drive past the bowler. All done while booted and suited immaculately. Above all Alec Stewart will be remembered for his presence, his pride, and his professionalism.