On June 1, 2002, the plane carrying Hansie Cronje crashed in a George mountain range, killing the former Proteas captain and the two pilots on board.

At the age of 32, Hansie was finally putting the pieces of his life back together after his massive fall from grace, when fierce winds and rain caused the crash.

His brother, Frans Cronje, has now opened up about how he came to learn of the day his brother passed away, in a lengthy interview with the Telegraph.

The details of the day of Hansie’s death aside, Frans says that Hansie descended into a dark place during his public trial:

Hansie immediately resigned as captain, declaring that he would never play again. He and the family assumed that the whole process would be swift, and over in a fortnight. Instead, the King Commission inquiry dragged on for months, and Cronje received a life ban from being involved in cricket in any capacity by the South African board. The fabric of Hansie’s life was shattered.

“For six to nine months after the King Commission he didn’t really leave his house,” Frans recalls. “The only thing that he did was look at the news or read the papers. And the papers were very critical of him so his view was, ‘I’m an a—–e now and everybody hates me’.”

…Hansie gained considerable weight, and suffered from “serious” depression. “He just couldn’t forgive himself. He didn’t have a gripe with anybody except himself. He knew he had a big responsibility and he knew what a role model he was. And he also genuinely loved God. He wanted to live right in the sight of God.

Whilst some details of Hansie’s dealings with bookmakers were publicly exposed, there is still the feeling that many illicit dealings were swept under the rug.

This article does a good job of touching on that (remember this scorecard?), but let’s carry on with Frans’ recounting of Hansie’s story:

Two weeks before Hansie was killed, Frans saw him for the last time.

Hansie had recently got a job working in insurance for a truck company and had just done his first deal. Over dinner in a restaurant, Frans found that Hansie had shed his self-loathing, and the extra pounds, too.

“For the first time, he actually walked with a smile into the restaurant, not shy. He always had confidence and so he looked like he’d got his confidence back.”

This is how Frans remembers his brother. “He was ready to rebuild his life,” he says. “It was like – boom you just get out of it. At least I knew he was in a good space before he passed away.”

Reflecting on the legacy his brother left behind, Frans says he is “at peace” with Hansie’s life and death, adding that his brother made society better during his 32 years.

I have my reservations about a man who systematically and repeatedly picked on the most easily manipulated team members for his own gain, and when you dig deeper into the match-fixing scandal, you have to be rather one-eyed to believe that he always tried his utmost to ensure that the Proteas won every match he was involved in.

Clearly, Frans disagrees:

Frans tells a story of playing a game of mini-golf with Hansie, their sister and their partners. The game was meant to be social fun – only, in the Cronje household, sport could never simply be fun. “My wife was so cross that she didn’t talk to me for two weeks because we took it seriously. That’s how much he hated losing. He couldn’t even lose playing mini-golf.

“If anyone ever tells you that he threw a match for money, that’s absolute rubbish – I still believe that to this day. It’s my opinion, there could be different opinions.”

Yes, there will.

You can read the rest of that interview with Frans Cronje here.

[source:telegraph]