Graeme Smith's army keeps SA20 on the front foot

A familiar figure stood square and solid on the tarmac, stooped through the open front passenger window of a car, and signed a team shirt. He was talking to the driver and seemed to be using both – and talking to the driver – simultaneously.

A boy of six years old appeared, holding a team shirt, a pen, a smile, and a hope. The man guided the child into a pool of shade and signed the shirt. Then the boy's father took a photograph of the kid and his hero.

"Still got it, Graeme," a passerby wisecracked, which garnered an upward glance and a smile.

Almost 11 years after his international career ended, Graeme Smith still has it. People know who he is and want to share a moment in his greatness. The boy was as brown as Smith is white, a rare sight in South Africa.

Smith is easy to like, but some of his compatriots are determined not to do so. They abhor excellence, regardless of color. That becomes more true the higher they rise in their roles. They wouldn't have been out there in the heat, mucking in with their supposed subordinates, before the start of the third SA20 final.

Smith is all about an honest work ethic and a lack of pretentiousness. He made batting look like tree-felling. The former tree feller has been the SA20's commissioner since the league's inception, and he has earned praise for making the tournament the best thing to happen to the game in South Africa.

The proof is in the stands, which have been more full than for much of the rest of the cricket played in the country. Smith deserves his flowers, but he has not done it alone. Stephen Cook and Lynn Naude are omnipresent, and an army of administrators has been mobilized to support them.

The ranks include Vinnie Barnes, Mike Gajjar, and others who keep the SA20 machine's wheels oiled. If that's the price of success, it's small. The SA20 works, from top to bottom, and that's why the boss is out there on hot afternoons, doing his job and turning hope into happiness.