Michael Atherton (r) faced Donald in a classic Test

He was never one of those po-faced sportsmen banging on about carbo-loading, isotonic drinks and nutritional salads.

He would get into the gym, working fiendishly hard without any fuss, then enjoy himself in normal ways - on the golf course, or with his wife and children at home or with friends, often with a barbecue on the go.

Donald's spell in national service shaped his attitude to hard work and self-discipline.

Seeing dead bodies in townships at the height of South Africa's racial problems in his late teens gave him a perspective on his cricket career, so that he appreciated all the advantages he accrued later on.

Painfully shy

A strict but fair upbringing from his parents also imbued in him respect for others and a natural courtesy that impressed so many down the years.

I first met him when he came to Edgbaston to play for Warwickshire in 1987. He was painfully shy and his severe national service haircut and limited knowledge of English made the young Afrikaaner appear very gauche.

On his first night in Birmingham the Warwickshire lads took him to a pub and the half of lager shandy they bought him was the first time he'd ever touched alcohol.

He soon embraced willingly the social ways of county cricket, making enduring friendships, but more importantly he kept his eyes and ears open in the dressing-room that season and drank in so much knowledge.

Powers of memory

Allan soon learned to swing the ball at high pace - a devastating combination - and his memory for a batsman's weakness was in the class of a Marshall or a Lillee.

One of the great sights of modern international cricket has been that of AD gliding in effortlessly, cocking that right arm, staring balefully at the target and letting rip.

He would relish responsibility, and feed off adrenalin while still keeping eerily calm at the key moments.

Nelson Mandela respects Donald hugely

I'll never forget that fantastic duel between Allan and Mike Atherton in the 1998 Trent Bridge Test: a raw, dramatic contest between two proud cricketers at the very top of their individual game.

But a gesture made by Donald to young Mark Boucher during that unforgettable half-hour sticks in my memory. Boucher had dropped Nasser Hussain off Donald and was absolutely distraught.

Donald wasn't too pleased, either, as he trudged back to long leg at the end of the over.

But seeing the desolation of his wicket-keeper, he raced up to him for a consoling word before the next over started. Now that's a team man.

I was lucky enough to collaborate with Allan in his autobiography in 1998 and he was typically thorough and professional.

Our biggest thrill, though, in that project came when President Nelson Mandela agreed to write the foreword.

For me, a lifetime admirer of the great man, it was a career highlight but for the Afrikaaner from Bloemfontein, it was a significant illustration in the changing attitudes that he had witnessed in his young life in his homeland.

The fact that such an icon admires Donald so much tells you all you need to know about one of the most respected international cricketers in recent decades.