Mignon du Preez: Everybody's champion

I’ve watched that video hundreds of times in the last few days. Every time, I’ve smiled. I’ve felt goosebumps when they talk about her. I’ve marvelled at THAT ridiculous catch. I’ve felt excitement when they show clips of her batting. I’ve fought back tears when she says, “I try and let my light shine so that others can see” … And each time the video ends, I’ve been left feeling hollow, like my heart is literally dropping; and therefore, I play it all over again. On repeat.

"If you have anything going on in your life, have any problems, or just want to have a chat, she is always the person to go to."

Get to know Mignon du Preez, a "mother figure" in the South African team 📽️https://t.co/fl3TFR4KBT

— ICC Cricket World Cup (@cricketworldcup) March 23, 2022

Retirement is inevitable. Sometimes you see the announcement coming from miles away, and other times, it takes you by surprise; sucks the wind out of your sails, almost.

Mignon du Preez’s announcement was clearly well thought through. The words were perfectly picked. The reason was solid. The timing, impeccable. But that didn’t take away from the fact that it felt like a sucker punch.

How? Why? What? No! You can’t! You shouldn’t! You mustn’t! But…

There was supposed to be a stream of coherent thought. Instead, all I could manage was an emoji. Days later I’m still struggling to find any words – the right ones are unlikely to ever come.

How do you write about the impact someone you didn’t know had on you? How do you explain what they mean to you without sounding creepy and stalker-ish? How do you declare an undying admiration for someone you didn’t even grow up watching without being overly dramatic? 

 

In short, how do I write about Mignon du Preez?

Anyone who knows anything about me, knows I admire Mignon du Preez. She dominates my Twitter feed like no other. (Okay, maybe #TeamPacer comes close, but you know what I mean).

The thing is, du Preez didn’t start off as my favourite player. Of course, I knew who she was, but I saw too little of her to be awestruck by her skills. It wasn’t until 2014 (that T20 World Cup and the tour to India) that I began to more closely follow her career; and then, in 2016, I was completely floored.

My admiration began in the press conferences in 2016, when, as South African captain, she walked out to face the media throughout what was a disappointing World T20 campaign. As a batter, she couldn’t buy a run, but every time she answered our questions, that smile never left her face. She pointed to the things that her team was doing well, and never once allowed herself to be sucked down that dark hole of negativity just looming over her shoulder.

From the point of view of a player who was struggling herself, du Preez’s attitude was exactly what I wanted to mirror. She became that ray of light that helped me keep at it.

I want to be like MdP – a calm, compassionate and positive captain, I scribbled in my diary soon after I interviewed her in March 2016.

After that, I consumed every bit of MdP content I could find– interviews, matches, articles. No amount was ever enough. I combed through the internet for a glimpse of anything – old or new, it was all welcome.
 

All the great players have an aura around them – something that makes them seem almost superhuman. They are celestial beings descended from the sky, ruling the sporting world. They have abilities beyond our understanding – skills they perform effortlessly; that seems to flow like water; that they execute without a care in the world.

Think, Laura Wolvaardt and how she makes batting look ridiculously easy. Her cover drive is, let’s face it, otherworldly. Think Chloe Tryon whose mishits fly for six – she makes you think she’s playing a video game. And then there’s Marizanne Kapp – that woman is a machine!

But du Preez – all her incredible achievements aside – is the most human of them all. She makes you believe you have it in you to be a dominant international cricketer too. She makes batting look fun – tries so many different things, accessing so many different areas and does it all with that trademark smile. If you watch du Preez, she gives you a sense that international cricket is for everyone… Like we are all just a few years of hard work away from being high-quality players. You may not be blessed with the grace of Wolvaardt, the power of Tryon or the unending reserves of energy of Kapp… What you really need is the heart, passion and that sense of enjoyment of MdP.

She is everyone’s champion. She is Mignon the Magnificent!

That’s why I want to be like MdP.

***

Women’s Tests don’t come around too often, so you’d think – unless you are Ellyse Perry – that women’s Test hundreds don’t come around that often either. But Mignon du Preez is special: one Test; one hundred.

On a wearing surface in Mysore, where the Indian spinners got the ball to spit in all directions and Harmanpreet Kaur bamboozled the batters with her googly, du Preez scored a valiant hundred.

Eight years later, she retires (with only one Test under her belt) as one of only three South Africans to score a Test hundred and the only one to manage it on debut.

In ODIs, she is the team’s most capped player (154) – the first South African to play 150 ODIs – and their highest run-scorer (3760) as well. Her name litters South Africa’s record books, and she’s set the benchmark for the rest of her mates.

But Mignon du Preez is more than just the numbers. It is what she brought as a leader, as a senior player, as someone who cared deeply about the people around that makes her so special. In many ways, she truly is “Ma Minxy” – not just because she is a little older than the others, but because it is just the way she is.

She shepherded South African cricket into a new era – hopefully one that will see them continue to dominate ODI cricket in the years to come. 

For someone who, for much of her career was seen as a grafter, the way she has reinvented herself into a top-class T20 player is nothing short of incredible. She’s found another level that’s allowed her to keep up with the ever-changing demands of the game. That changed mindset trickled into her one-day game and shone through in that penultimate innings she played.

I know this is not the end and there is much to look forward to. After all, there is plenty of T20 cricket (and The Hundred) lined up. But truth be told, du Preez’s decision has left me feeling empty. It’s hard to contemplate a South African team without her. She was their energy, their centre, for so many years. How can she not be around?

I’ve tried desperately, over the last few days, to come to terms with all the many thoughts floating inside my head, but they still make little sense. I tried to find the words to write about MdP, and I know I haven’t managed… But if you’ve gotten this far, maybe just read this one final thing:

Dear Mignon,

Congratulations on a wonderful ODI and Test career!

If you ever read this, know that you are dearly loved and admired all around the world. You didn’t start off being my favourite cricketer, but the more I watched you, the more obsessed I became. The determination and fight you’ve shown through your career is incredible. I have no doubt we will see plenty more of it in T20s.

I will miss watching you in the longer formats. I will miss the intensity you bring to the field. I will miss your animated celebrations and your wholesome hugs. I will miss watching a South African great strut her stuff in a format she was made for. But, of course, I can’t wait to see how much further you develop as a T20 player.

Thank you, Mignon… For your generosity, your heart, your empathy and compassion. And thank you most of all for bringing light everywhere you go!

Here’s to plenty more runs and wins… And here’s to a T20 World Cup.

Go well, you good thing. As always, your timing is impeccable.

With love, hope and a whole lot of wonder,
#MignonsMinion – Always and forever!💚

PS: I still want to be like MdP.

 

(All pictures, courtesy Getty Images)