They’re primarily blue, the blue of an ocean from a destination holiday, the kind you’d chuck on Instagram without a filter and still not be able to fully capture. That pure blue of hope and joy.
But when things aren’t going well, they turn red. The whites bloodshot with anguish, a pained shade of crimson magnifying the bags under his eyes you’re sure weren’t there a few moments ago. Few wear disappointment as evidently, to the extent that when Buttler’s eyes “go”, his team-mates, particularly those sat around him in the dressing room, know something isn’t right, that a guy who is never far away from the cheer needs that difficult combination of distance and an arm around the shoulder. If Eoin Morgan was an England captain you wouldn’t want to play poker with, Buttler is the one you’d fancy your chances against.
There is a superficial dichotomy between Buttler the cricketer and Buttler the person. One’s cold, the other’s warm. One prides himself on bringing the noise, the other the quiet listener. One is brash, the other bashful.
Long before Morgan retired in June, there were questions about his replacement. Of course, Buttler was the only viable option, but with captaincy asking less of the cricketer and more of the man, there was a fear he would not have the necessary Morgan-levels of mettle for the job.
There’s nothing like silverware to answer that question unequivocally. Over the last month, it has been made clear with each step towards T20 World Cup success that Buttler is the leader of a team who are vibing in his image. They have played brave, fearless cricket in challenging circumstances and, above all else, have done so without closing themselves off to the emotion of occasions but by embracing them. At this level, pressure is a privilege, and very few cricketers have adopted that mantra quite like Buttler throughout a fine career that now has some added gloss.
On the verge of tears, Buttler, famed for his neatness, threw his kit to all corners of the room, and began thumping the physio table laid out in the middle with one of his pads. To him, his failure was soon to be England’s. While he could barely stomach his own error, the idea that he was responsible for the fall of his team-mates sent him into a spin.
Kit scattered, he disappeared for long enough that, when Stokes had somehow managed to draw England level with New Zealand’s score to take the game to a Super Over, no one knew where he was. Suddenly, Buttler emerged from the bathroom springing on his toes: pads, helmet and gloves back on, ready to go back out there. He struck a four off the final ball of England’s Super Over, then had the presence of mind to take Jason Roy’s throw in front of the stumps off the final ball of New Zealand’s.
Men’s sport is never more uncomfortable when it comes to talking about things that can’t be quantified as processes or match-ups. Buttler, whose life has been forged in these environments, has always possessed an emotional intelligence to say what needs to be said and, more importantly, what people need to hear.
Perhaps, though, the best example of Buttler wedding personality with performance came in dealing with two allrounders who have ended up having standout tournaments for England.
On that tour Buttler reinforced a few strengths: a left-arm angle, a surprising bouncer, a knack for cutters into the pitch at various lengths and a reliability, all of which made him a handy prospect in all phases of the game. That he was capable of bowling everywhere, clearing the fences and consistent meant he could hide in plain sight among the bigger names. Now, as player of the final and player of the tournament, he is a big name himself. Intangible and hidden no more.
With Stokes, things were a little trickier. A lack of T20 cricket – domestic or international – had England’s Test captain as the elephant in the squad. You could never doubt his willing for giving his all to the team, but having not played a 20-over match in 15 months before arriving in Australia, such absence was only going to breed unfamiliarity.
Others might have left Stokes to work it out himself, or may have questioned the wisdom of trying to reinvent a player who, by global repute, has it all down. Buttler, however, took the initiative, seeing beyond the legend to recognise someone who needed to be put at ease.
“Relationships take time, and as you get to know people better and better, you build trust,” Buttler said, long after the ticker tape had settled following England’s victory on Sunday.
“I’d say the Pakistan tour – for the group, not just myself and the coach but for everyone involved, just seemed like a really good tour.
“Lots of bonds were built, and I thought we got back to playing some really good cricket there. It takes a bit of time to get to know people well and get to feel comfortable, and there’s so much talent in the group that, as soon as we feel comfortable, we’re a dangerous team.”
He had long been sympathetic to Hales’s situation, even if he was under no doubt the man himself was to blame for it. But there was also an appreciation of Hales’ undoubted talent in the shorter formats, which were underpinned by the fact the pair had been close – Hales was an usher at Buttler’s wedding – before the 2019 indiscretion.
Any return needed to be tactful, so Buttler took on the responsibility of making it so. While he could have pulled rank and brought Hales in, he instead called around senior members of the squad to run it by them. It was as much “this is happening” as it was “how would you feel about it?” The responses were positive, the end result even more so. Hales finished with 212 runs – the second most for England – and walked away with the team’s top score (86 not out in the semi-final against India).
That Buttler facilitated this reintroduction so smoothly – hardly an English tradition – speaks of his people skills. Those are much ingrained as they are refined: Buttler is a voracious reader of books on high performance and management, all approached with an open mind in order to take elements from each without being tied too strongly to someone else’s interpretation of those themes. Similar to how his batting is borrowed in parts: fierce wristwork from his days playing hockey as a kid or aspects admired off the likes of AB de Villiers and his Somerset hero, Marcus Trescothick.
In the lead-up to the semi-final at the Adelaide Oval, Buttler decided to scrap the pre-prepared plans to bat first if they won the toss. “I think the majority of us were thinking: ‘It’s a great wicket, let’s go out and put a statement out there,'” Mott recalled. “And he was really clear. He consulted and then he said: ‘No, I think this is our best chance of winning.’ And it proved a masterstroke.”
You wouldn’t describe Buttler as a renegade. But he doesn’t quite conform in the ways you expect of a kid who grew up in Taunton. The routes he has taken in the game have been conventional with the odd detour out of curiosity. He concentrated more on the white ball than the red one early on because that’s where he felt his strengths lay, perfecting ramps and reverses without ever really fussing over the fact he hits the odd cover-drive through extra and in the air.
That he played as much Test cricket as he has – 57 caps – is through the pride of being English and the notion that that is the format that English cricketers strive for. That last bit comes from a long-held view that Test cricket is where you make your legacy and this idea that your career – and hence, life – is unfulfilled without it.
Maybe when this is all over, Buttler may regret not making a better fist of red-ball cricket. But in terms of worth to English cricket, his team-mates and fans alike, what he has provided in entertainment and special moments would have been enough to satiate him well before this World Cup success.
Now however, that contentment is greater. For Buttler’s achievement has come about after demonstrating that the cricketer is in perfect harmony with the person, and is now undoubtedly one of England’s greatest of all time. When he gets a moment to consider that, who could blame him if the eyes go again.
Vithushan Ehantharajah is an associate editor at ESPNcricinfo