Legglancer
State Regular
Something I was reading from the Guardian, I think
Its quite profound. Any comments?
AUSSIES WIN MATCHERS BUT LOSE FRIENDS
Waugh's team is under fire, even at home.
Chris Ryan reports in Sydney
Wednesday May 14, 2003
The Guardian
There will be no tickertape parades for Australia's cricketers
when they start drifting home from the Caribbean today, just as
there were none two months ago when they retained the game's
most glittering prize.
Steve Waugh's World Cup-winning team of 1999 was met with
street parades in three cities and a glitzy reception at the
national parliament. All Ricky Ponting's men got, four years
later, was a crummy lunchtime meet-and-greet in faraway Perth.
Partly this was a result of the jam-packed itinerary. Partly it was
to do with the suspicion that Australia's opponents, all a jumble,
had presented them with the World Cup on a platter. But mostly
it was because many Australians, much as they love their
national side, do not actually like them.
According to a recent survey 52% of Australians believe the
current team is the best in the nation's history. Far fewer would
call it the greatest. There is a subtle distinction.
To be the best means scoring more runs more quickly and more
regularly than anyone else. To be the greatest means doing all
that but doing it with a certain charm and grace too. It means
filling your boots with runs and your fans' hearts with pride.
It is the great paradox of Waugh's leadership: his team has
reinvented the game with its clean-hitting approach yet repulsed
many of its followers with its boorishness. Waugh has created a
monster.
"When I played, captains took a more dominant role in ensuring
the spirit of the game wasn't broken," says Brian Booth, an
Australian captain of the 1960s.
"This sledging - I just think it's a cancer of the game. It's
unnecessary. Our kids look up to our top players: they want to
be like their heroes. That concerns me more than anything. I
must confess I lose a bit of interest when they behave that way."
This week's final Test in Antigua, replete with much shouting
and finger-wagging, was a typical five days in the office for the
Australians. It caps a seven-month stretch of unprecedented
success: they won an Ashes series, a World Cup and 10 out of
12 Tests. More often than not, however, those feats were
upstaged by an equally unprecedented trail of smutty
misdemeanours.
The Ashes wipeout was soured when Brett Lee headhunted
England's tail-enders in the closing minutes at Perth. The World
Cup triumph was overshadowed by Shane Warne popping
banned pills to improve his appearance. Then there were the
distractions of Darren Lehmann, who bellowed "black ****s"
after an untimely dismissal against Sri Lanka.
Meanwhile the South African batsman Graeme Smith alleged
that Lee threatened to "****ing kill me" and Warne "calls you a
**** all day".
Still, it was the lack of contrition that bugged people most. "It's
part of the game," declared Glenn McGrath. "As soon as he
realises it, the better."
Lehmann's outburst was explained away as being "in the heat of
the moment", as if that made it OK. "He calls a spade a spade,"
said his team-mate Jimmy Maher, "which is not necessarily a
bad thing." This was the same Jimmy Maher who once called
Aboriginal people "coons" when interviewed during a post-victory
drinkathon in Brisbane eight years ago.
Put together, it all adds up to a team that is hard to like: a
macho, blokey institution, out of step with community attitudes.
"I think Australians are torn," says Hugh Mackay, a veteran
writer and social commentator. "There's enormous pride in a
team that keeps winning but a lot of Australians are
simultaneously uneasy. Waugh is a mystery to many cricket
lovers because he is such an enthusiast for the game's
traditions: the way he wears his ancient baggy green cap. He's
regarded as a really decent bloke yet he's captain of the great
sledging team."
The side's mostly white composition only adds to the
impression of an XI that is unrepresentative of the wider
population. Indians, Pakistanis and Sri Lankans have been
migrating down under for decades, yet none has cracked the
Test team since the Sri Lankan-born Dav Whatmore 25 years
ago.
Australia have fielded no Asian internationals, and only one
player - Jason Gillespie - with Aboriginal heritage. Aborigines
make up 8% of AFL footballers but only 0.46% of first-class
cricketers since 1998. Apart from alienating its existing
audience, Australian cricket risks doing too little to win over a
new one.
The team's poor image, says Gerard Henderson, director of the
Sydney Institute, a political think-tank, has as much to do with
the people as the players. Society has grown more conservative
and pitch microphones more intrusive. Mums and dads balk at
violence on TV. When Ian Chappell's Australians talked dirty in
the mid-70s it was tempting to dismiss them as larrikins. Now
players, with their high profiles and even higher wages, must be
role models too.
"You've got to behave in such a way," says Henderson, "that
parents will say: 'Shane Warne's a good bloke - you should be
like him.' But if Shane Warne's busy cursing and bullying people
it's hard to say that."
All fair points. But none of them answers a simple question.
Why, when you are thrashing everyone, do you need to point
and swear and carry on like boors?
"I know the guys," Tim May, head of the players' association,
said recently. "And they're good blokes. They are good, good
fellows."
He is probably right. But the reality does not match the
perception and Australians are unwilling to take his word for it.
Winning matches is one thing. Winning friends is altogether
trickier.
Its quite profound. Any comments?
AUSSIES WIN MATCHERS BUT LOSE FRIENDS
Waugh's team is under fire, even at home.
Chris Ryan reports in Sydney
Wednesday May 14, 2003
The Guardian
There will be no tickertape parades for Australia's cricketers
when they start drifting home from the Caribbean today, just as
there were none two months ago when they retained the game's
most glittering prize.
Steve Waugh's World Cup-winning team of 1999 was met with
street parades in three cities and a glitzy reception at the
national parliament. All Ricky Ponting's men got, four years
later, was a crummy lunchtime meet-and-greet in faraway Perth.
Partly this was a result of the jam-packed itinerary. Partly it was
to do with the suspicion that Australia's opponents, all a jumble,
had presented them with the World Cup on a platter. But mostly
it was because many Australians, much as they love their
national side, do not actually like them.
According to a recent survey 52% of Australians believe the
current team is the best in the nation's history. Far fewer would
call it the greatest. There is a subtle distinction.
To be the best means scoring more runs more quickly and more
regularly than anyone else. To be the greatest means doing all
that but doing it with a certain charm and grace too. It means
filling your boots with runs and your fans' hearts with pride.
It is the great paradox of Waugh's leadership: his team has
reinvented the game with its clean-hitting approach yet repulsed
many of its followers with its boorishness. Waugh has created a
monster.
"When I played, captains took a more dominant role in ensuring
the spirit of the game wasn't broken," says Brian Booth, an
Australian captain of the 1960s.
"This sledging - I just think it's a cancer of the game. It's
unnecessary. Our kids look up to our top players: they want to
be like their heroes. That concerns me more than anything. I
must confess I lose a bit of interest when they behave that way."
This week's final Test in Antigua, replete with much shouting
and finger-wagging, was a typical five days in the office for the
Australians. It caps a seven-month stretch of unprecedented
success: they won an Ashes series, a World Cup and 10 out of
12 Tests. More often than not, however, those feats were
upstaged by an equally unprecedented trail of smutty
misdemeanours.
The Ashes wipeout was soured when Brett Lee headhunted
England's tail-enders in the closing minutes at Perth. The World
Cup triumph was overshadowed by Shane Warne popping
banned pills to improve his appearance. Then there were the
distractions of Darren Lehmann, who bellowed "black ****s"
after an untimely dismissal against Sri Lanka.
Meanwhile the South African batsman Graeme Smith alleged
that Lee threatened to "****ing kill me" and Warne "calls you a
**** all day".
Still, it was the lack of contrition that bugged people most. "It's
part of the game," declared Glenn McGrath. "As soon as he
realises it, the better."
Lehmann's outburst was explained away as being "in the heat of
the moment", as if that made it OK. "He calls a spade a spade,"
said his team-mate Jimmy Maher, "which is not necessarily a
bad thing." This was the same Jimmy Maher who once called
Aboriginal people "coons" when interviewed during a post-victory
drinkathon in Brisbane eight years ago.
Put together, it all adds up to a team that is hard to like: a
macho, blokey institution, out of step with community attitudes.
"I think Australians are torn," says Hugh Mackay, a veteran
writer and social commentator. "There's enormous pride in a
team that keeps winning but a lot of Australians are
simultaneously uneasy. Waugh is a mystery to many cricket
lovers because he is such an enthusiast for the game's
traditions: the way he wears his ancient baggy green cap. He's
regarded as a really decent bloke yet he's captain of the great
sledging team."
The side's mostly white composition only adds to the
impression of an XI that is unrepresentative of the wider
population. Indians, Pakistanis and Sri Lankans have been
migrating down under for decades, yet none has cracked the
Test team since the Sri Lankan-born Dav Whatmore 25 years
ago.
Australia have fielded no Asian internationals, and only one
player - Jason Gillespie - with Aboriginal heritage. Aborigines
make up 8% of AFL footballers but only 0.46% of first-class
cricketers since 1998. Apart from alienating its existing
audience, Australian cricket risks doing too little to win over a
new one.
The team's poor image, says Gerard Henderson, director of the
Sydney Institute, a political think-tank, has as much to do with
the people as the players. Society has grown more conservative
and pitch microphones more intrusive. Mums and dads balk at
violence on TV. When Ian Chappell's Australians talked dirty in
the mid-70s it was tempting to dismiss them as larrikins. Now
players, with their high profiles and even higher wages, must be
role models too.
"You've got to behave in such a way," says Henderson, "that
parents will say: 'Shane Warne's a good bloke - you should be
like him.' But if Shane Warne's busy cursing and bullying people
it's hard to say that."
All fair points. But none of them answers a simple question.
Why, when you are thrashing everyone, do you need to point
and swear and carry on like boors?
"I know the guys," Tim May, head of the players' association,
said recently. "And they're good blokes. They are good, good
fellows."
He is probably right. But the reality does not match the
perception and Australians are unwilling to take his word for it.
Winning matches is one thing. Winning friends is altogether
trickier.
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