No contemporary cricketer, Tendulkar aside, made batting look so simple as Damien Martyn. But it was not always thus. For the brash 21-year-old who waltzed into the Australian team at Dean Jones's expense, batting was an exercise in extravagance. To defend was to display weakness - a policy that backfired in 1993-94 when Martyn's airy square-drive at a crucial moment in Sydney triggered a five-run defeat by South Africa and a seven-year hitch to his own promising career. By the time Western Australia, wanting a pretty face to spearhead their marketing campaign, had made him captain at 23, Martyn looked a tormented man. All the more remarkable, then, that he blossomed into a relaxed, classical, feathery artist. He was an elastic fieldsman and an old-style batsman whose first movement was back. He played with a high elbow, a still head, a golfer's deft touch, and had all the shots, including perhaps the most brutal reverse-sweep in the game.