Outside The Line

Sleepy Growls At The Easy Swoon

You ever seen a bear coming out of hibernation in the spring? It looks sprightly, and eager, and wicked skinny, with flaps of loose skin hanging down like old labia from his every quarters.

I was hoping to come out like that at the end of the winter -- yet another miserable, blustery one for the Kiwi books -- fresh and ready for new sights and new adventures; a springtime of body and mind. I didn't feel like being bothered before that. Sometimes, though, noises outside the den rock your sleep and force you to begrudgingly get up and check out the commotion.

Noises like this Guest Column on cricinfo, after the conclusion of South Africa's Test series against England...

I suppose I could count as a fierce Smith critic, since I have attacked him numerous times for his many sins. So is Houwing right? Is this the end of the road? Is there nothing left to do than kneel at the Capt'n's feet and repentantly accept his highly load?

Um, how about... no?

I understand that journalists, commentators, and those in the loop all love Graeme Smith. They can barely hide their chubbies under their pants half the time. And it makes sense. He's jovial and gregarious. He jokes with them.  Gives them good quote. Makes them feel like they belong. (He's even got the hot blonde girlfriend with no reservation about parading her hotness around in public). I get all that. If you wanted to have a cricketer over for a barbeque, Smith'll probably be the one.

But what exactly am I supposed to "salute" the guy for? For his team winning a series against a mediocre, has-been English squad? His 2nd-ranked team (which apparently also houses a better all-rounder than Garry Sobers) beating the 5th-ranked team, a team whose spearhead for the series was James Anderson, and who at one stage shared the new ball with Darren fuckin' Pattinson?! Get serious.

Oh that's right, it's because South Africa's first victory in hallowed English soil 43 years, right? That's why it's such an event. Brave King Graeme, conquering territory uncharted since 1965...

Well, not quite. Twenty-five of those years were covered by apartheid, so it doesn't seem fair to include them as part of the "legacy of loss" which Smith apparently inherited. (By that logic, we could also claim that South Africa went undefeated for a quarter of a century, and have suffered one of the most vicious continued declines, comparable to that of the West Indies, for almost two decades since.)

Even after readmission in 1992, though, it's not as if South Africa have performed that badly while touring England. They drew twice (in 1994 and 2003), and lost only once (1998) by a one game margin. Are these unbearable crosses to bear? Hardly. If Smith wants to impress, he can try beating the Aussies or the Sri Lankans on their turf. Then I'll listen.

But okay, fine, I guess England is somehow relevant in the grand scheme of things because, um... it's old. (And that oldness tradition, after being unabatedly pumped into cricketers' heads since childhood, can start to screw with their minds, cause them to feel an added level of pressure and make them a tad more likely to fail when playing against said old foe.)

So basically Smith & co. managed to not lose a series they should've been favoured to win from the start. Congratulations, boys, you didn't choke for once. Want a parade?

As for Smith himself, I'll credit him for his innings at Edgbaston. I have no problem with that.  To score an unbeaten century in the fourth innings while chasing 280 is an impressive feat under any conditions, and I'll be glad to applaud anyone for their batting prowess in a situation like that. Great knock.

But that's a mere batting feat, and the credit it deserves is purely on terms of batsmanship, of the same kind as Ashwell Prince's two very Chanderpaulesque centuries and Neil McKenzie's 500-ball extravaganza to guarantee the draw at Lord's. It doesn't deserve any greater praise because it comes from Smith, or from whoever happens to be the captain.

[N.B. The idea of a "captain's innings", incidentally, is another one of those cricket clichés that is hollow to the point of meaninglessness. Isn't every innings played by a captain, by definition, a "captain's knock"? If it isn't, then what quality does it possess that differentiates it from a regular good knock? Is there a certain kind of good innings played by a captain that does not qualify for "captain's innings" status? Why does a quality innings that just so happens to be played by a captain apply to a rarefied level of achievement?]

Pull A 'Senator Geary' On The Emperor And We'll Start Over

So it turns out it wasn't just my paranoid player-hatin' fancies after all... Graeme Smith really is an authoritarian douchebag who managed to hijack the South African locker room through cheap power maneuvering and divide-and-conquer tactics straight out of some thirdhand bargain-bin copy of 'The Prince.' There are accusations of divisions along seniority lines and of a "captain's clique" forming in the squad, which in turn have also brought up the typical (yet still understandable) questions about racial quotas and selection policies in the South African system.

I'd be a lot happier about all this pressure being put on Smith if I could at same time see some type of release for it elsewhere, but I don't. Smith has already crowned himself Emperor Graeme I, and there just isn't anyone around at the moment to threaten that claim. Boucher is too old (and a 'keeper), Kallis is autistic or something, and the rest of the squad aren't certain if they'll still be holding their spots in a year's time. No, the only thing that I can see bringing Smith down at this point is a sex scandal. And even then, who knows?

No Capra endings (for Mr. Smith)

What the hell happened to South Africa? The South African team, I mean, in the last five years? How is it that they've gone from Lance Klusener and Jonty Rhodes to Graeme Smith and Andre Nel? When I started getting into the game, South Africa were one of the most inspired, colourful teams on the scene, full of varied characters working in unorthodox combinations. They had Gary Kirsten, wise beyond any man’s years, calmly guiding them from the front; Jonty, the Energizer Bunny of world cricket, always in the action; Neil McKenzie, a delightful cocktail of nervous tics and endearing superstitions; and, of course, Zulu -- the only man in the game whose nickname is chanted fervously by every crowd around the world every time he walks to the crease.

Now they just seem like a bunch of prep-school jockheads with a tight fitness schedule and a mean streak. Graeme Smith has by far the ugliest batting technique in the world, scamming runs out of most bowlers' inability to bowl to left-handers with wide stances and angled bats. AB De Villiers can open the batting, field, and even keep wicket, but I bet you could hear the ocean if you put your ear to his skull. As for Andre Nel and his whole Easily Excitable Douchebag persona -- it might seem more menacing if he could back it up with actual wickets. As it is, he's little more than a mild irritant

There are still traces of better days in the team -- Gibbs' easy belligerence at the crease; Ntini's energy and unorthodox, angled jabs short of a length; Pollock's loose-limbed strokeplay at the end of an innings -- but these are few and far between. Not even the joy I get from watching a tortured team trying to shake off deep-seated psychological issues from their past (and failing at every attempt) can cover the fact that I really don't care for South Africa anymore. I hope they lose to England today, for no other reason than to keep the West Indies alive in the tournament.

I'm blaming all this on Graeme Smith. Ever since he slipped his fat foot through the selector's door and somehow convinced the world that a pair of wide shoulders and an aggressive outlook are what makes a good captain and leader, the Proteas have sunk into a pit of graceless efficacy, outlasting weaker teams with over after over of one-toned right-arm pace bowling, combined with bursts of muscular boundary hitting by the experienced middle order. There is an almost monarchical air to his captaincy -- he stands atop everyone around as if appealing to divine right, with no one ever questioning his leadership credentials or holding him accountable for his team's failings. Why is he beyond scrutiny?

For some reason, everyone just seems to accept Smith as the natural leader of that squad,with little evidence to back that claim. It's not as if his tenure has been wildly successful, by any measure: South Africa have won 59% of their ODI matches under Smith; under Pollock, that number was 66%; under Cronje, it was 74%. In Tests, Smith's win-loss ratio is 1.36, Pollock's was 2.80, while Cronje's was 2.45.

Quickly, who's South Africa's vice-captain right now? Is it Prince? Boucher? Who knows? (I didn't know either. It's Kallis, as it turns out.) Smith has somehow found a way to overshadow anyone in his path and present himself as the sole face and identity of the entire South African cricket establishment. Gary Kirsten was moved down from his usual opening position when Smith came in and then retired a year or two later. Lance Klusener was just jettisoned completely after the last World Cup, even though he still had a valuable few years to give to the team (and, more importantly, the fans).

Meanwhile, after this tournament’s valiant South African choke –- oh, it’s coming, don’t worry -- Smith will probably be offered a bonus, then appointed captain for life, leading selector, and co-coach.

I never thought I’d say this (in any context), but… GO ENGLAND!