Fate, not amenable to change
Why can’t we be friends, why can’t we be friends…? – War
Stuart MacGill says Xavier Doherty hasn’t got Test cricket in him.
And even though he’s Cricket Australia’s new spin mentor and is meant to be growing the nation’s Ashes hopes, loads of people say MacGill’s a snobby, wine-swilling wanker.
Nobody thought Moises Henriques was up to it until he got runs in Chennai and now he’s the best thing since James Faulkner was before he shamed cricket by sending off Chris Gayle at Manuka.
The jury is still out on Ed Cowan – and David Warner – even though they’d both bleed freely from a nasty head wound to stay in a baggy green.
Macksville maestro Phil Hughes, so some say, has already had too many chances and according to reports, Shane Watson could well be crossing the ‘t’ and dotting the ‘i’ on ‘toxic’ when it comes to the culture in the proverbial dressing room of Australian cricket.
Faded star Dean Jones doesn’t like George Bailey’s game even though the T20 skipper could well play a key part in the forthcoming Ashes series and poor old Mitchell Johnson couldn’t buy a friend in the press even though he looks every part the scud missile that could shatter Alistair Cook’s top hand and win back the urn this winter.
James Pattinson can do no wrong, other than breaking down periodically, and the same could be said for any number of young quicks who obviously believe that stress fractures are the new black.
Matthew Wade can’t sweep, Nathan Lyon hasn’t bagged a 10-for and he’s already 25, Mitchell Starc isn’t the all-rounder Glenn Maxwell could be and Maxwell has the temerity to earn too much money from the game.
And it’s all getting a little bit tiresome.
A crack touring party (and Steve Smith) left Australia’s shores a couple of weeks back and put up an innings and a bit of fight in the first Test against India before falling to a seemingly meek but eminently foreseeable eight-wicket loss away from home.
It (a loss) was never going to be good enough, no matter how narrow the margin, and it almost makes you glad Jim Maxwell wasn’t able to witness the horror.
It might even have been enough to turn a man to drink.
Debate rages as to whether the radio Maxwell was told not to tour, or whether he was unwilling to suffer the ignominy of filing from the car park. But imagine the lunches if he had. Street food is de rigueur, no?
Similar debate rages as to whether the playing Maxwell is in India to do anything more than warm up for the IPL, but given the earlier reference it would seem cruel to lace the barb any more heavily.
In defence of the BCCI, it’s kind of scary to think how many media outlets would love to report on a Test series in one of the world’s most populous and cricket-mad countries, so perhaps the ABC should have dug deep to send in its top man if, indeed, they’re serious about seeing him through to the fabled triple century of Tests.
There are plenty of people who would direct their daily eight cents Maxwell’s way if they could.
Why?
Because cricket remains compelling to Australian audiences. It’s the national pastime. It’s the breakfast conversation, the water-cooler chat, the beer-fuelled rant and the stuff of dreams.
And the narrative… it’s all about the narrative… and the narrative is far more interesting in these turbulent times than it was for long periods as Steve Waugh’s Autobots smashed their way through series win after series win and tour diary after boring tour diary.
Even Michael Clarke, by far the team’s most popular member when it comes to public opinion, is a polarising figure. And that’s not just because he’s from New South Wales.
It seems you either like your skippers with tattoos or you don’t. Triple centuries notwithstanding.
Clarke’s number one acolyte, Peter Siddle, generally gets a good rap in most circles. It’s hard not love a big, bloody-hearted Victorian quick.
Remember Merv Hughes? Because Siddle is basically Hughes reincarnated. He’s just got more expensive teeth, an odd – and sudden – distaste for red meat and is still short of the 200-wicket mark he needs to reach to achieve international credibility.
One day, way off when, Siddle might even share a posthumous epithet with Hughes – The Cult Hero.
And, if it happens, the pair will also probably share a similar back story. Both have achieved exposure during dark periods in Australian cricket, after all.
Hughes came in on the back of consecutive Ashes defeats and faded out of the game as a new generation of champions came to the fore.
Siddle is every chance of doing the very same.
His captain, Clarke, may never be Captain Grumpy, but he is scoring runs in Border-esque fashion, pulling his fledgling team from the fire on any number of occasions.
In fact, there’s a whole lot of the mid-1980s about the current Australian team.
There are bad haircuts, loose techniques and questionable averages with bat and ball. Top order batsmen who can’t score through midwicket, quicks who struggle to hit a length and spinners that don’t turn it far off straight.
Fans are still coming to grips with a new format and everyone’s wondering how long Test cricket will remain relevant.
Strangely, and somewhat ironically, South Africa might be considered the new West Indies, but Australia is firmly mid-table and everyone just has to deal with it.
Trips to India aren’t great fun and, as in the 1980s, we might soon be leaning on players not far removed from enigmatic spinning all-rounder Greg Matthews to conjure celebrated ties out of the murky Indian air.
And if it has to be that way, then so be it.
Let’s all just get behind the team – regardless of who’s picked – and support the Aussies like it’s 1986 again and all that matters is that unshakeable belief that what came before will come again.
We mightn’t always win, or be able to listen in on the radio, but we can still have heroes. And we can still believe in miracles!
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Who was the cretin who booked us in for a 4 test hiding to nothing tour prior to the ashes?
Steve Waugh and his charity work to Clarke and his crying at the acceptance of a personal award. I mean…really.
Michael Clarke is not a man. Real men, like me, just can’t give their support to such a child.
Clarke as captain of the Aussie cricket team reminds me of the saying: in the land of the blind, the one eyed man is King.
Stick a fork in Aussie cricket. It’s done.