Denise Shorkend – flawed bowling genius dies in Cape Town aged 64

Another top class bowler is gone. Denise Shorkend, arguably the enfant terrible of the women’s game in the Western Province and to my not that humble a mind, among the top 10 South Africa produced, has died in Cape Town after a short illness. Her skills, poise and touch for a large lady were legendary; she could swing any game in a trice.

But often genius is flawed.

Shorkend, in denial to the end, was a tough playing companion. She was her own master and commander; she gave it all and expected it all in return. Her failing was not recognising all players are not born equal; expectation is often a disappointing mistress.

Many times we sat in some cafe drinking coffee; many times I tried to reason with her, every time she marched to the sound of her own drummer … what a pity. I even played third for her once. She made my life a living hell; but she was right and we won in the end.

“I am not difficult, I just play the game hard; I wish people would not view me as a difficult skip, or peevish lead,” she once told me.

Unfortunately her peers (not all) and the selectors (not all) disagreed and so Shorkend’s career, destined for greatness, did not flourish at the highest level. She became disillusioned and sank deeper into an introverted existence.

Yes, she did play for South Africa (2001), played SA Masters and SA Senior Masters; yes she was a bastion for Western Province in their all-conquering 1990a epoch, yes she accumulated cabinets full of trophies and medals, but the hurt was there.

When she played for WP against the touring England women in 2004 she was outstanding and was declared best local player by the visitors.

I truly feel if someone could have got to her, really close to her and convinced her, Shorkend had the acumen and ability to become a world leader in the game – at any discipline.

A long-time teammate and a world champion the brilliant Trish Steyn of WPCC said: “Denise was a truly wonderful player. I am not going to jump on the attitude bandwagon, but I do feel there was a problem that prevented her from truly enjoying and being enjoyed. She and I played well together; we had few problems, but I feel she recognised I had the ability to produce the shots she visualised, so a bond was there; respect was mutual.”

When Shorkend joined Atlantic Green Point in the New Millennium, unhappy with herself after a failed marriage, weight problems and a problematic knee I wrote seven years ago: “… Shorkend would be a threat to any field, playing with the first three bowlers walking down the road…”

She taxed me over that and said bowls was mostly a team effort. I told her she should think about that and she was so cross she didn’t speak to me for a year. I liked her then, still do; nothing beats friendship; she was worthy of that.

But I meant it; still do; if only …

Nevertheless she was a real lady. Polite, always neatly dressed and highly intelligent, Shorkend was unfortunately destined to drift though life without experiencing much happiness, often enduring scorn and brickbats from armchair critics.

A journalist colleague of mine often berated the selectors for her mysterious absence; alas he also realised they had little option, so edgy had she become.

She certainly brought a lot on herself; how hard it is to truly understand one’s own failings.

One of her biggest playing disappointments (there were so many triumphs) was when Colleen Webb (now one of the finest Protea women players in South Africa) hammered her 21-6 in the SA Nationals Singles finals in Durban. Close to tears, she told me then: “I tried hard, but whatever I did, Colleen did better.”

That was the gracious sporting side of the woman, I admired her even more for that … no excuses, just that her opponent had played better than she.

I will miss our non-alcoholic liquid “intrigues”, even miss her protestations and her wistful smile. Underneath it all was a warm woman wanting to be loved. Two months ago she told me: “I think I will just become an associate member and not play; my knee is no good.” Little did she know what lay around the corner.

Now at the tender age of 64, after suffering ill health, her tab is in for ever. If it is any consolation, she joins her best friend the late bubbling, extrovert Maureen Miller, with whom she had so much fun and success; they, such opposites in friendship, will welcome the reunion.