OPINION | At last‚ AB de Villiers' dream comes true

The question came most often from Indians‚ and it was almost always directed at South Africans: “Is there anything AB de Villiers can’t do?”

Until August 2‚ 2010‚ there was no answering it with any seriousness. It took De Villiers himself to provide the answer. On that date he released “Maak Jou Drome Waar [Make Your Dreams Come True]” with singer-songwriter Ampie du Preez.

Henceforth‚ Indians who asked certain South Africans if there was anything De Villiers couldn’t do were met with a snappy‚ “Yes - sing.”

Turns out the joke is on us.

By retiring from international cricket at 34 with a storming return to the Test arena last summer still shimmering in the memory‚ De Villiers has indeed made his dreams come true: he has got his life back. Nothing could be as important to him and his family.

Anyone who doesn’t agree is mean-spirited and selfish‚ and the fake anguish being expressed by people trying to pass themselves off as proper cricket fans can go to hell.

“I actually had chest pains‚” some sad soul posted on social media on Wednesday in response to De Villiers’ announcement.

Really? You need one of two doctors: to treat a heart-attack‚ or to sort out your head.

There is fault to be found with the way De Villiers told us he was moving on.

An outrageously over-produced video almost as cringeworthy as the weird and not so wonderful footage that accompanied “Maak Jou Drome Waar” was not the way to do it.

Worse‚ he broke the news on his own app‚ which is like dumping someone on WhatsApp. Tacky‚ or what. For a classy player‚ that was the equivalent of farting as you try to heave a full toss over cow corner and instead send a bottom edge twixt keeper and slip.

Are the hits‚ which help monetise apps‚ really that important?

But on social media‚ class‚ if it even exists‚ is temporary. Especially to people who have almost 6-million followers on Instagram and Twitter — each — and another 3.5-million on Facebook. That’s a lot of monetising.

Even if that wasn’t the case there has to be understanding for players saying what they want to in the way they want to say it.

Was De Villiers trying to leave on his own terms and without people like reporters getting in the way of what he was trying to express? Probably. But as much as having your say unabridged is your right‚ it behoves journalists to examine what you’re saying and critique it as rigorously as anything you might have said in a press conference or an interview.

Not that anyone who is not AB de Villiers knows what it’s like to be him.

We can imagine lives of being paid stupidly large amounts to play a mere game — and take issue with the fact that people who have real jobs‚ like doctors and teachers‚ earn exponentially less — and we can dream of flitting from one luxury hotel to another and never knowing what they cost. We can try to put ourselves in the shoes of someone who seems to spend most of their lives being adored and the rest signing autographs. We can imagine what it’s like to have stories like this written about us.

But we can’t know what it means not to be able to talk a walk without being recognised‚ or spend time with your family in public without work getting in the way — some of us have trouble smiling for a single selfie with a loved one over lunch‚ nevermind one a minute with utter strangers who know our names.

We have no clue how it feels to have so many people watching your every move all the time‚ to be studied and examined and pontificated about as if you were a work of art imprisoned in a frame and nailed to a wall.

That’s what De Villiers has been all these years‚ a picture whose prettiness we demanded not be spoiled by him becoming real.

Is there anything Abraham Benjamin de Villiers can do about that? Yes. He did it‚ albeit poorly‚ on Wednesday.