When the cricketing world heard of Adam Gilchrist’s retirement, they went from a state of shock to nothing short of mourning. Many might have even wept. I’m not surprised why - if I was there at the Adelaide Oval, watching the wicketkeeper batsman walking back to the rooms, head held high - the Baggy Green perched firmly in pride on it - knowing fully that I won’t see him wearing it again, a tear of respect would’ve left me too.

Respect. It’s a word a real die-hard traditional fan of cricket would preserve for few. Forget Dhoni, forget Boucher. The world has never - and will never - see an opening batsman, a hard-hitter and a wicketkeeper of such fine quality, both skills coming together to such perfection.

But this isn’t about Gilchrist the batsman. It isn’t even about the ‘keeper. Much has been said and written about his freaky ability to juggle both responsibilities, of ’setting a benchmark’ and whatnot.

It’s about Gilchrist, the magnificent sportsman, whose greatness was only underlined by the humility of his achievements in an otherwise arrogant Australian side. For me, the very fact that Gilchrist walks when he edges, or only appeals for ones he genuinely thinks is out, is a mark of a fine man. A cricketer who has his feet so firmly grounded in the ethics of the game, and if it weren’t for the likes of Gilly and Dravid, one would refuse to associate anything gentlemanly with the game of cricket.

And that’s what needs to be underscored. Australia might look into their reserves and maybe even pick a class wicketkeeper who could match Gilchrist’s record. Maybe they’ll find him to be a better batsman than Gilchrist - no one knows. But it’s perfectly safe to say that, there are very few gems in the game who are so loved even by the opposition.

For that, my friends Down Under, let me tell you that Gilchrist is simply irreplaceable.