Kevin Pietersen: Out of Africa

England's most explosive batsman is a singular man. Kevin Pietersen is being mentioned in the same breath as Don Bradman but he tells he is keeping his eye on the ball. The days are rapidly coming to an end when Kevin Pietersen stands on the verge of greatness. All the signs of the past week indicate that he will soon be rolling in its long grass. Take the manner of his batting. He fashions shots of such a singular vintage that

Only six players in all - Bradman and Brian Lara join the list - and only Sutcliffe for England have scored a greater proportion of Test hundreds than Pietersen's 17.02 per cent. In one-day cricket, only one other player, Australia's Michael Hussey, has averaged above 50 with a scoring rate of above 90, as Pietersen (56.28 and 91.51) has. Boundaries may be shorter, but not that much shorter. Take the endorsements. Last week, Pietersen signed for adidas in a three-year deal which will make him the face of the brand and extremely rich. It was a happy

coincidence that the seminal double hundred in Leeds had occurred only four days earlier, but it increased the exposure. This is a big deal in several ways. It is significant for the game because it demonstrates that a company not traditionally associated with cricket (actually quite disassociated from it in the past) have made such a splash. In determining that they wanted a slice of the cricket action, recognising its increasing appeal, they had to decide which player. They could have gone, say, for Andrew Flintoff, Michael Vaughan or Alastair Cook. But they went for the wow factor.

Pietersen will be introduced gradually during the first 18 months but then he will be projected and given a huge profile beyond cricket. If he continues to score heavily, the potential all-round benefits - for player, company and sport - will increase accordingly. There is another factor, too. Pietersen speaks and the media flocks with such gusto that bees round a honey pot look distinctly unenthusiastic.

He is reaching that stage, then, where he almost transcends the sport he plays. Denis Compton did it long ago, so did Ian Botham, and more recently Flintoff entered that other realm. In India, Sachin Tendulkar took it several stages further: he was worshipped.

There may be the thought in this that Pietersen will be sidetracked by the fame and the celebrity. It happened to some of his predecessors. It will not happen to Pietersen. While it has been alleged that he went out deliberately to seek fame, he also recognises clearly what brought him it.

"One thing my manager, Adam Wheatley, and I are very specific about is that nothing will hinder my preparation, either mental or physical, for an international, because that's the thing, that's the stuff, that gets me involved with these great companies. As long as it doesn't interfere, it's totally fine."

As his fame and stature grow, so Pietersen becomes still more fascinating. He is as tough as old boots but as soft as clarts, absolutely certain but self-critical, brash but sensitive. The main thing is that he will not knowingly squander an ounce of his talent. There was further realisation of this in that 226 last week. He went past 100 and it was obvious something out in the middle was not right. The great shot-maker became virtually becalmed, to such an extent that it was worth asking what was wrong. It turned out that it was nothing physical; he was mentally fatigued, and he had reached that state because of his single-minded determination not to get out then.

"I got a lot of criticism for getting into the 70s and 80s and getting out, and then at Adelaide last winter I got to 158 and ran myself out like a muppet," he said. "At Headingley last year, I got caught at long-off trying to hit Mohammad Sami for six on 130-odd, and when I caught the highlights later, David Gower pointed out how irritating it was for people to do this. When I got to the 130s last week I remember distinctly thinking that you don't want that said about you, this is an opportunity to get a big score.

"I was mentally fatigued because I was trying so, so hard. It was refreshing to get past 158, the total I had been out on three times in Tests, and even better to work my way to the 200-mark. People say to me, 'You should be doing it all the time', but a hundred runs takes a lot, I can tell you."

There is a touch of the evangelist in Pietersen. Perhaps it comes from the fact that he made his way over here from his home country of South Africa when he was only 19. He left his home, his family, his friends to seek a better life. This will always be with him.

For a long time, it affected the perception of him, and sometimes he did not help himself. Many people were sceptical, if not of his motives, then of his conduct. The first detailed interview between Pietersen and this correspondent developed into an argument which was a stalemate. But his sheer single-mindedness was evident.

Maybe his cause has not been helped by long memories. Another tall South African full of self-belief came to these shores 40 years ago and embraced Englishness. Tony Greig took the country by storm. Other factors intervened - the breakaway World Series Cricket primarily, which led to his removal from the England captaincy - but if the parallel was not exact, it did not seem entirely shaky either.

Pietersen should have won everybody over by now, including all his team-mates. They should remember that they do not have to like him but they should admire and respect his talent and work ethic. There are too many stories around to conclude that he is entirely unselfish. Australia changed his nickname during the last Ashes series from The Ego to Figjam, adapted from the sobriquet given by his colleagues to the golfer Phil Mickelson. It is an acronym and it stands for Fuck I'm Good Just Ask Me.

Yet what strikes most about him is playing to his limits. If his gift had been as an electrician he would have invented a new way for putting on a plug.

"I think the sky is the limit for every person in this room or wherever," he said at brunch last week, sounding as though he had ignored the bacon and eggs and swallowed the combination of Samuel Smiles and Dale Carnegie instead. "If you set your mind on something, you can achieve it." He invariably pays handsome tribute to his partner, Jessica Taylor, a member of the pop combo Liberty X, who formally announced last week the end of their recording days. She has matured him, it would seem.

"I was young at 24 when I started in the England team," he said, failing to add that he will not be 27 for another three weeks. "I'm more grounded now in terms of maturity. When Jessica announced the band had finished recording last week she said that I should enjoy the moment and savour it."

The nature of cricket makes it inevitable that Pietersen is being touted for the captaincy. Nothing about him yet suggests leadership qualities, and he was careful to say that while it would be an honour to lead your country, one of his big chums was Michael Vaughan.

In the future, when and if Vaughan is gone, it will be necessary to ask not simply whether Pietersen can lead but who can lead Pietersen. By then, it may not be an easy task.

If he is enjoying these moments as a batsman on the cusp of possibly unprecedented things, then so should we. His business will not be finished, of course, until the Aussies are in town again. It is clear he was affected deeply by the 5-0 reversal. "We never dreamed it could happen." England, he said, were too soft. They need Australian hardness.

He listed memories that will haunt him, most poignantly perhaps that from Perth when the Ashes were handed over. "It wasn't fun standing on the boundary being nailed by little kids while in the middle Adam Gilchrist was nailing us by scoring a hundred off three balls. I carry these thoughts inside me."

Pietersen has come a long way in every sense from Pietermaritzburg. Forget greatness being thrust upon him; with every thunderous shot beyond the imagination he is seizing it by right.