There has been much talk in the press after the just concluded ODI series in India, about the Australian cricket team and their behaviour. Behaviour is a broad term – everything from comments made by individual players in the press to comments made (allegedly) by them on the field have been the subject of discussion. This is a peculiar relationship – for on the one hand we seem to find nothing good about the Australians, and yet, which is the one team which Indian fans would like India to be like? Australia. Every shortcoming – real or percieved is attributed first to the Indian “system”. This is followed by offering the the Australian “system” as an example of how things should be. “They have an assembly line of players”, “their system makes them a strong team” – “we should field like the Australians”, “we should drop our batsmen and bowlers and replace them with players who can field like the Australians do”…. and other refrains are one stop solutions to the “problems” that plague Indian Cricket.
Yet, in terms of behaviour, the “ugly” Australians are not good role models. This seems to become the accepted point of view every time they hammer us (and defeat some of our weaker players in the mind). Our crowds try to impose from the stands what our players cannot with bat and ball. In doing so we end up revealing ourselves in the worst possible light. We end up losing not just the game of cricket, but our self-respect along with it. Andrew Symonds came to India, batted like a God, toyed with the Indian attack and won the series for his team. The best we could offer was a racist taunt in what is supposedly the cricket capital of India. Clearly, the ugliness lies on our side of the boundary rope.
It is my contention that nearly all of the general reactions to the Australians are without basis. The Australians are no better or worse than any other team in terms of on-field behaviour. Their success has little to do with their “system”, just as our defeats have little to do with ours. The aspiration to be like the Australians is in my view unrealistic as well, especially if it means looking, behaving and playing like them. The first suggestion is in my view self evident if you accept that winners usually have more to say than losers. Since the Australians win more, they eventually have a better record to defend and therefore have more to say. So when Ponting says that Australia “want to win every game, and will aim to do in India as well” – he’s merely stating what is a fairly realistic goal for this Australian side. When his players make pointed observations about the opposition, they put their records on the line, and nearly always back up their words with bat and ball. So they win more, and they say more…… and everybody hates their guts. It doesn’t mean they are “ugly” – it means that they are successful.
My second contention probably goes against the grain much more fundamentally. The Australians are a “great” team. Their success is down to this greatness rather than to any method. They are blessed with once in a generation players in atleast 5 different positions – making them a hard team to beat on the best of days. Gilchrist, Ponting, Hayden, McGrath and Warne are all very special players and Australia have been lucky to see them emerge at the same time. The lasting impact of this kind of quality is that other players aspire to be like them. They create models of extraordinary success – breaking new ground and setting new, higher standards. It has happened in India as well. Tendulkar emerged and changed the whole outlook of batting in India – from Gavaskarean orthodoxy (Sandeep Patil and other aggressive batsmen were viewed with less than total favor, even though their talent was beyond question) to a more aggressive model of batsmanship. He pioneered modern one day batting in India and in the last few years, aggressive opening batsmen are dime a dozen.
Do “great” teams emerge from great systems? There is no evidence to suggest this. The great West Indian teams of the 1960’s, 1970’s and 1980’s emerged inspite of the fact that no “West Indian” system existed. Players emerged from their local clubs – raw, ridiculously gifted, hungry for success, and honed their skills in English county and league cricket. Was English county cricket as a system producing great English teams, while it was shaping great West Indian teams and tremendous Pakistani talent? No. The West Indian greatness was down to the extraordinary gifts of a handful of cricketers. They were lucky enough to see these players emerge with regularity for nearly 25 years. When that talent dried up, especially in the fast bowling department – West Indian decline set in. If systems were all that were required to produce “great” cricket teams, then the current English team, with their supremely well honed system should have been atleast as good as the Australians. But they are not – not by a long way. If systems were all that were required to produce quality, then England had no business losing to India (no system whatsoever) this summer, even without Andrew Flintoff and Steve Harmison. Was Bradman’s team of 1948 the product of a “system”? Bradman himself was nearly 40 years old at the time – no “system” would have allowed a 40 year old to captain a cricket team on an important tour.
“Systems” keep teams competitive at best. “Great” teams are the product of great, extraordinary talent. This is what we can learn from the Australians. Australia’s lesson to the world is not about “winning” – it is about the wonderful value of talent. India cannot be Australia or Bradman’s invincibles or Lloyd’s West Indies – those are fake targets. The results India achieve are commensurate with the ability that they possess in their ranks.
Getting riled up about insufferable Australian behaviour is pointless. We can take heart from the fact that it is almost certain that every Australian fast bowler will not be McGrath, that every Australian batsman will not be Ponting and that every Australian wicketkeeper will not be Gilchrist. At the same time we must remember that every Indian batsman will not be Tendulkar. This is what sustains sport and keeps it interesting, especially for those who follow it for its own sake, and not out of any patriotic angst.
Australia will inevitably climb down from their current lofty perch. Will we then claim to want to be like the crack “system” of the post-Australian era? Or will we sit back and enjoy the amazing talent showcased in international cricket, without obsessing about India winning?
Are we missing the whole point of sport by insisting that India should win every time? When this drives us round the bend to the point where we collectively abuse opposition cricketers, does the “passion” show signs of going sour?
If we can begin to address these questions, instead of splitting hair about the legitimacy (or lack thereof) of the Mumbai crowds behaviour, or racism and other such loaded concepts, we might just have learnt the most valuable lesson that the Aussies have to offer.

