Outside The Line

Graeme Smith WILL Make You Hate The 9th, No Doubt About It

                

And so it happened, with barely so much as a whimper, let alone a bang. The event this site has practically been built around, from its very inception. The crowning glory of a year of blogging (and many more years of unofficial, but still unwavering, hatred and antipathy).

Australia are no longer big dogs. WOO HOO!!!!! YEEEEAAA MO'FUCKA!!!!!!! If we could actually afford champagne, the sound of popping corks would still be echoing across the entire antipodean continent ever since the day of the second final at the Gabba. Sure, Australia are still good. They'll probably continue to be very good for a long time. They'll be on or around the top of the ladder, never giving an inch, strong at home, competitive on the road, with a half dozen scary players who could still haunt your dreams and destroy all hopes. But they won't be AUSTRALIA anymore. They days of "The Mighty Australia" are over  -- now they're just another plodding, overgrown, graceless local power. (South Africa without the mental baggage, if you will.)

So what does that mean for Outside The Line? Should we fold up shop? Our basic predictions have essentially been confirmed... Australia's extreme dominance throughout the past decade really was due to the freakish occurrence of having three once-in-a-generation players (Warne, McGrath, Gilchrist) in the same team, with the addition of few overachieving left-handers and a culture of professionalism and competitive ruthlessness filling in the gaps. Of course, it would've been nice if their fall had been sudden and meteoric; if one loss (say, in the 2007 World Cup final) had triggered a chain reaction of blame, recrimination, and player after player being made to walk the plank into instant retirement and ultimate oblivion.

But cricket doesn't work like that. The days are long, the sessions are slow, and even revolutions proceed at the speed of molasses. But they still happen, as the IPL is bound to show everyone in a couple of months. And thank god for that. The sport needs it -- hell, this site needs it. Anyone who doesn't agree with that -- at least to some extent -- should be strapped down like Alex DeLarge, head clamp and scapula in place, and made to watch the current South Africa v. Bangladesh series on a loop for a couple of weeks or so.

Nero's Spot Might Soon Be Threatened

Is it just me, or are Australians (and Australian fans) sounding more and more arrogant by the day? True, they have always been riding the higher end of the Arrogance Spectrum throughout their era of dominance, but lately they've gone right off the charts. Ever since McGrath and Warne retired, it's like they're not even trying to hide it anymore. The thin layer of faux-humility has been erased, and we start hearing comments like this:

"Hobart is somewhere that probably will favour slow bowlers late in the game and it's somewhere where we might bat twice, so (Muralitharan) will have two cracks at us." -- Ricky Ponting

(You know, they might bat twice -- they might even be forced to last the whole five days, god forbid. Worst-case scenario, of course. If half their squad comes down with explosive diarrhea on the day of the match, and Symo stumbles onto the ground with a flask of last-night's-rocket-fuel in his hand, and Haydos' femur breaks trying to hold the weight of his gargantuan chest as he takes his guard... then, you know, they might have to bat twice. They just might.)

As if that wasn't bad enough, yesterday we got John Buchanan's ridiculous calls for a complete revamp of cricket at the international level. From what I can tell, Buchanan seems to be saying that Australia is just so damn great and produces so much pure talent that the only way for cricket to remain competitive is for every international squad to just load their lineup with surplus Aussie players. (In other words, Buchanan is telling the rest of the world, "even our rejects are better than every person in your shitty, underachieving little country." Thanks, John.)

Looking at the Arrogance Spectrum, I'd say at the moment the Aussies are somewhere between "Jay-Z after hearing his latest album made it to the top of the charts, giving him more No.1 records than any artist except for Elvis," and "Donald Trump at the best of times." If they beat Sri Lanka easily in Hobart, who knows how far they could go up. We might even have to recalibrate the scale just to handle Ponting's trophy ceremony speech.

A Head Full Of Ideas That Are Driving Me Insane (SL-Aus Preview)

Tomorrow, at the Gabba in Brisbane, Sri Lanka and Australia will play the first Test of the newly-christened Warne-Muralitharan Trophy series. (Yes, that's what it's called. What I'd like to know is why the Australian name always comes first in those bilateral series... Chappell-Hadlee, Border-Gavaskar, etc.) I have refrained from commenting on Sri Lanka's tour so far, since I was waiting to see how they'd fare in the warm-up watches. I waited because I understood the grave importance of this series, not only for the balance of power in cricket, but also for my own future enjoyment of the game.

See, I have a conflict of allegiances here. I happen to be both pro-Sri Lanka and virulently anti-Australia, and I'm not sure which of my positions should take precedence. That might not make a lot of sense at first, since the two views seem perfectly complimentary, yet there is a certain logic behind it. If we were to take this series in isolation, then sure, I'm all for Sri Lanka, and will cheer for them every step of the way. But looking at a cricket series in isolation is not only pointless, it is also virtually impossible -- it would involve consciously erasing all previous knowledge about the game from the mind, as well as any future hopes or expectations. It would turn the game into a purely superficial spectacle, devoid of the richness of history and narrative context that make cricket such a fascinating game to follow. (And believe me, if mindless sensory thrills are what I'm searching for, Test cricket would be waaaaayyyyy down on my list of places to look.)

So what is the context of this series? What does it represent? The most obvious (and important) point is that it will be the first series without Shane Warne and Glenn McGrath leading the Australian bowling attack. This is no small matter -- the two of them combined for more than 1,200 Test wickets, led their team to international domination for almost a decade and a half, and virtually destroyed the careers of countless players, from Jimmy Adams to Darryl Cullinan to every Pakistani opener since 2000. They (Warne and McGrath) were the ying and yang of the Australian Machine... one a blonde virtuoso playboy with a flair for the theatrical, the other a pulseless country savant with cocked wrists and a ridiculous haircut. On paper, they seemed like the oddest of couples, yet they complimented each other on the field better than any pair this side of Jordan and Pippen.

Now they're both gone, and for the first time since, um... forever... Australia go into a series with arguably the weaker of the two bowling attacks. Mitchell Johnson has yet to play a Test, Brett Lee is older than he looks and has never really dazzled in Tests, and Stuart Clarke is a glorified extra at best. (As for Stewie McGill, let's just say that, like Shooter McGavin, Muralitharan eats pieces of shit like him for breakfast.)

 

And yet, I have the strange suspicion that none of that will matter, since the Sri Lankan batting looks so frightfully out of form. Normally, that wouldn't be such a major concern, since the team has a good mental outlook and usually finds a way to stay competitive in any contest through sneaky 40-run partnerships in the lower middle order and dedication by the tail. However, this is Australia we're dealing with here, and I don't think a bunch of quiet first-innings 280's will be enough to deal with a batting backbone of Hayden-Ponting-Hussey-Gilchrist. It just seems like too much of an ask. (Sangakkara's torn hamstring would generally piss me off, but it wouldn't really be a tour of Oz without some sort of punch-to-the-balls injury like that to the touring team.) Unless Murali and Malinga somehow come up with three or four freakish displays of Pantheon-level classic bowling, I don't think Sri Lanka have enough to win it.

Which is why, as much as it pains me to say it, I think the best hope for the future (a bright, just future, with competitive cricket played all around the world and no one team ever dominating all others) might be for Sri Lanka to lose this series somewhat comprehensively. If they go out there and play hard, keep it tight, never give anything away, test the Australians and make them work hard for every run and wicket... they'll probably still lose. But at the same time, they'd also be helping Australia immensely -- to move on after Warne and McGrath, to give the youngsters valuable challenges and experience, and to take mid-tier Test players (like Michael Clarke and Andrew Symonds) to a whole new level. Australia would only come back stronger, and the chance for world cricket to turn over a new leaf would have vanished.

On the other hand, if Sri Lanka get pummeled two-nil, with Hayden and Ponting hitting unmemorable centuries and McGill bagging a couple of profligate 10-for's, nothing will have changed. The fans would get (even more) cocky and arrogant, McGill would stay in the squad, Bracken would stay out of it... and as a whole, Australia would gently let down its guard. Then, India can come in undetected and land the killer blow that would make the entire Australian cricket establishment see stars for months.

No, actually, you know what... I can't do it. There is no possible way I could cheer for Australia to beat Sri Lanka. (Especially after the scars of the World Cup final.) So I guess all that's left to do now, like Maggie's farmhand, is to fold my hands and pray for rain. May we see a dark cloud hover above the entire Australian eastern seaboard and make it pour down relentlessly for two weeks or so. Not only would it wash out both Tests in the series (more on the categorical idiocy of holding 2-Test series later), but it might also help alleviate the drought that's plagued the country for the past decade or seven.

You can't say I'm totally anti-Australia, after all.   

A Retroactive Treat Is Still A Treat

I missed it when it happened, but it seems Simon Katich scored a rather, um, un-Katichesque triple-century a few days ago, playing for NSW against Queensland. On this Halloween, I couldn't think of a better treat – not candy, not chocolate, not even a girl dressed like a slutty cat at a drunken party – than for the Australian selectors to see that innings, and based on it decide to bring the Kat back into the squad. Simon Katich is exactly what we need at the moment. Someone to clog the engine of this brutal Australian machine and slow their progress for a little while. I await his upcoming clumpy 60s and stop-start 40s – as everyone else around him goes a run-a-ball – with delirious anticipation.

"I Believe That Is Mr. de Silva's"

It's Aravinda de Silva's 42nd birthday today, and I was hoping to post a video of one of his many glorious innings, but all I could find on YouTube was some grainy straight-off-the-TV footage of four of his boundaries from a one-day innings against India in 1998; and this, the trophy ceremony from the 1996 World Cup Final, when de Silva won Man of the Match:



(I love how many hangers-on there are onstage -- it's like the scene at the end of "Happy Gilmore," when Happy beats Shooter in the putt-off and wins the golden jacket. I half-expected Mark Taylor to jump in at some point, grab the MoM trophy and run off with it, leading to some scary Sri Lankan building site foreman with a pituitary disorder and a nail through his skull to start chasing after him.)

For a much better display of de Silva's undeniable magic, how about cricinfo's account of my favourite single delivery in the history of cricket, during the 2002 Champions Trophy Semifinal:

   6.5 de Silva to Hayden, OUT: down the track comes Hayden, trying for
        the huge heave-ho over midwicket. But he doesn't keep his eye on
        the ball, which keeps low and straight and crashes into the
        stumps. The bowling change doing the trick here.

I still remember how cathartic that moment was. Some context: Australia won the toss and chose to bat first. They were in one of their ridiculous ‘swing viciously at the every delivery and just let the other team drop their way to a loss’ moods that day, and by the sixth over were already racing along at 8/over. Then de Silva came on and triggered the most delicious of collapses you could imagine. The symbolism was so apt, it gave you goosebumps – this little pear-shaped Sri Lankan part-timer, being asked to stave off the Imperial onslaught in the 7^th over of the match. He faces big, fee-fi-fo-fum-ing Matthew Hayden, more than ready to inflict some serious damage… and he bowls him, straight through the gate. Australia are all out for 163, de Silva ends up with bowling figures of 10-2-16-1, and Sri Lanka chase down the score with 7 wickets to spare. Can it possibly get any better?

An All-Indian XI, Of Sorts

Here at Outside The Line, we have never really made a secret of our vicious antipathy for the Australian team and its ongoing Age of Empire. In fact, we generally like to announce our hatred as loudly and frequently as humanly possible. At the same time, there are a few Australian players that we don’t mind to see excelling, for a variety of different reasons.

Back in his day, Mark Waugh, like a high school Queen Bee, was just too damn pretty to deny. Adam Gilchrist, in a similar way, is just such an obvious kinesthetic freak of nature that all one can honestly do is shrug, nod in acknowledgment, and wait for him to retire. As for the bowlers, Stuart MacGill can collect as many of his trademark six-fors-at-7/over as he wants, since all that means is less of the spoils go to actual players with a future, like Nathan Bracken or Mitchell Johnson.

Michael Clarke is most definitely not one of those players we can stand to see succeed, given his (odd for an Australian) youth and undeniable talent. Let’s hope yesterday’s 130 is not a sign of an upcoming resurgence -- one Ponting is more than enough at the moment, thank you very much.

Clarke, of course, cemented his status in the Australian rotation with a spectacular debut Test series in India, which made me think of the surprisingly large number of recent players whose careers have been based on astounding records against India. Off the top of my head, I can already think of half a very decent XI:

    1. Alastair Cook

    2. Matthew Hayden

    3. Younis Khan -- a player whose career could’ve easily mirrored Misbah-ul-Haq’s if it wasn’t for        those regular double-centuries against the old foe.

    4. Michael Clarke

    5. Shahid Afridi

Any thoughts on the bowlers? (This one’s tougher, and it’s not hard to see why… India’s batting has been a lot stronger than its bowling for a while, so there’s less of a chance for a visiting bowler to shine.) The only ones I can think of at the moment are Michael Kasprowicz and (maybe) Saqlain Mushtaq.

I Think I'm Starting To Love This Twenty20 Thing

I woke up at 2:30 in the afternoon today. I guess that's what tends to happen if you stay up until 7:30 AM watching the most satisfying cricket match in recent memory. I'll just let King Cricket take it from here:

What’s this in our underwear? It’s urine. It’s gallons and gallons of urine produced during uncontrollable laughter at how Australia lost to Zimbabwe in the Twenty20 World Cup.

[Incidentally, I was surfing through their archives, and I must give the King Cricket guys some props. How can you not love a site that includes an entire section devoted to delightful ad hominem attacks on that hulking mound of proto-human leathery mass, commonly referred to as 'Matthew Hayden.']

 

The Polaroids and homemade tattoos of CWC07

Wow, a damn good cricket blog this turned out to be. It’s as if it was swallowed up whole by the Bermuda triangle sometime before the start of the first World Cup semifinal. In a way, it was. Well, not around Bermuda; somewhere near Jamaica, in fact.

Everything was going fine until Jamaica. We had endured the years of anticipation, the months of grudge work and rationing in order to save up for the event, the hellish 45-hour trans-oceanic plane trip, the procession of spare rooms, apartments, hotel rooms and guesthouses across four islands -- not to mention the disproportionate quantity of truly awful cricket games across the six-week-span of the overlong, idiotically-organised tournament. We’d made it through all that, even managing to write about some of it, and were now staring at The End, straight in the face. The Semis and the Final. The last chance for glory, redemption, and maybe, just maybe, justice in the field.

And then… it all went to shit. Logistical problems, a shortage of funds, technical difficulties too mundane to mention; lost notebooks and forgotten pens; weak wireless signals and bad vibes; take your pick. Kingston was an ominously paradoxical shithole -- a sweltering, overcrowded ghost-town, full of low-grade hustlers and unspoken hostility. We couldn’t wait to get the hell out of there. Ocho Rios wasn’t much better, but at least it was small enough to let you keep your bearings. We watched the final there, and after it we didn’t feel much like going anywhere or seeing anything, so we stuck around. To decompress before the return home. We didn’t even care that our guesthouse in Ochi was run by a mentally unstable, middle-aged Canadian woman who seemed capable of going on a midnight rum-and-weed binge any day and torching the whole place down.

I think that period was necessary after enduring that apocalyptic bummer of a World Cup final. That was just horrible – truly, truly awful. It was the worst of all possible worlds: Australia winning in statistically convincing fashion, with Glenn McGrath grabbing Player-of-the-Tournament. The status quo was maintained, the rest of the world hadn’t caught up one iota in four years, and McGrath was bowing out to great fanfare with that smug look on his face. That’s the stuff from the vilest kind of third-world malarial nightmare. It still makes me a little sick just to mention it.

It’s fine, though; the mourning period has now passed, and I am quickly building up the reserves of unwarranted idealism, antagonistic bile, and aesthetic liberalism that are needed to immerse oneself into sport again, let alone write about it. But before that, for the sake completeness if nothing else, the missing posts.

I can probably count on one hand the number of people who care about these, but here they are regardless. Unabridged, unadorned (and in blue): the last blog posts leading up to the World Cup final. They were written at the time but not posted, and have sat untouched on my hard drive since. You can go back and read them chronologically, or you could enjoy it Memento-style, starting with the last post and going back in time. I think I prefer it that way; you can watch as bitterness and resignation slowly and magically transform themselves into hope and anticipation. It's not often that we get to see things that way...

The Final Stream (p.2)

AUSTRALIA v. SRI LANKA, Final (April 28)

Nothing a rum and a quick J can't fix. The asking rate is 7.47 per over. Here's the chase:

8th Over

... So I guess it's all up to Jayasuriya now. His average against Australia does not inspire much confidence: 22.5. It's all about attacking Tait and Watson and cruising diffidently against McGrath. This ain’t the 1990s… this score can be chased. ...

... McGrath comes on to bowl for the last time in his career. To Jayasuriya, who is most likely also batting in his last international innings. ...

... Ricky Ponting really goes all out with those spitballs he hurls onto his hands before fielding, doesn’t he? They’re not scattered droplets of saliva on his fingertips; they’re huge slimey globs he smears all across his palms. ...

16th Over

... McGrath is bowling superbly and there seems to be no way anyone could play him right now. So this is it -- McGrath and Gilchrist doing it for Australia. Again. And if Warne had been here, I’m sure he would have contributed as well. That trio represent the primary reason for Australia’s dominance in the past decade. They are three absolutely unique freaks of nature; the kind of sporting geniuses that usually only come along once or twice per generation. And Australia had THREE of them at the same time. You could surround them with a bunch of under-15 Zimbabwe club players and I bet they would still win more often than not. ...

... Thank god for Watson and his flavourless fast-medium. Between him and Tait, Sri Lanka are staying in this match. They also have Hogg to bash around if needed, so there’s no reason to panic yet. ...

 ... Jayasuriya hit the first mis-timed four of the Sri Lankan innings, over long-on. Make that Australia: 23, Sri Lanka: 1. ...

... Sangakkara has found a streak of form out of nowhere and is creaming the bowling to all parts, doing it with nothing but classical strokeplay. Out of the blue, on the third ball of the 13th over, he suddenly went up the pitch to McGrath and pulled a massive six. He then hit another two dismissive fours to finish the over and is looking as good with the bat as he has all tournament. ...

... Sri Lanka's second fifty of the innings came from 27 balls. They are now ahead of Australia's pace and both batters are looking comfortable at the crease. Did someone say "Wanderers '06 all over again?" ...

24th Over

... And then Sangakkara pulls a fuller ball by Hogg and spoons it straight to Ponting at mid-wicket. The partnership is dead. ...

... J. mentions how Jawardene looks completely in control from the first delivery. He really has become a middle-order monster in recent times, and is proving it during this World Cup. ...

... You are kidding me! Jayasuriya gets bowled by Clarke with a ball that essentially rolled on to the stumps after pitching. Why Sri Lanka are being made to bat on a sticky wicket in 2007, I have no fucking idea. It has been drizzling for quite a while now, and the wicket even looks damp -- a muddy, dark brown colour. But since Sri Lanka are on the wrong side of Duckworth-Lewis, they still have to attack like maniacs, just in case the umpires decide to pull them out of the field sometime. How many more obstacles does Sri Lanka need to face today? ...

31st Over

... It looks like a Rastaman has come out with a sack full of herbal refreshment for the players. Oh no, it's just some sawdust for the bowlers. Any more time you want to waste there, Ponting? ...

... So they come off the field right as the rain starts belting down. Sri Lanka are doomed. ...

36th Over

... Now to add insult to griveous injury, we get Mark Nicholas and Michael Atherton, the two most condescending and arrogant-sounding commentators on the scene, sitting in the commentator's box to finish the game. Please kill me right now. ...

The sight that will define this World Cup: Percy Sonn, the CEO of the ICC, looking like a Banana Republic leader about to be deposed by the military, standing on the makeshift podium, in the dark, as the crowd hisses and booes.

Tony Cozier thanks the groundstaff for "perhaps the best of all" pitches they produced this tournament. Yeah, the Australians would like to thank them immensely.

Jayawardene was asked to talk about the players from his team who will probably not make it to another World Cup. He talked about Jayasuriya, Murali, Vaas, Atapattu, but forgot to mention Russel Arnold. Not even his teammates remember his existence! It's no surprise that Arnold's first-class team is called "the Nondescripts". (That is 100% true, you can check.)

Ricky Ponting accepts the trophy and answers the typical questions. Now that I think about it, I guess he's a smart choice as captain and ambassador for Australia, since his facial features really are quite marsupial. He has the koala-in-the-headlights look mastered. Tourism Australia should give him a call sometime.

The Final Stream (p.1)

AUSTRALIA v. SRI LANKA, Final (April 28)

The match has been cut down to 38 overs, so instead of posting at 10-over intervals, it'll have to be every 8. (Well, three lots of 8 and then two 7s. Does it matter, really?)

8th Over

... As if Australia needed some extra luck, Ricky Ponting has again won the toss, and the Australians will be batting a shortened innings. This is the second consecutive final where they have won the toss (and it might as well be the third, since Wasim Akram basically shot himself in the foot by batting first in bowler-friendly conditions in '99). Uh-oh. ...

... Now that's the Hayden of old: 11 off 27 deliveries. A valuable time-waster at the top of the innings. For a long time, he and Damien Martyn were the only thing that kept Australia's opponents in the game on flat pitches. You actually had to cheer for Australia not losing wickets, if only because it meant Haydos and Damo were keeping the strike rate at around 5, rather than the 6+ that Ponting or Symonds guaranteed. ...

16th Over

... 46 for 0 at the ten over mark. Considering that the pitch looks flatter than Mischa Barton and there is no swing for Vaas to exploit, I'd say that is a great start for Sri Lanka, albeit without an early wicket. ...

... Dilhara Fernando dropped a tough c & b chance off Gilchrist at the start of the 11th over. The next three balls went for four, four, and six. How long before we see the first no-ball? What's the over/under? I say third ball off his next over ...

... Muralitharan has come on and the fate of the Sri Lanka's today could hang on what his first few overs yield. Dilshan is at the other end, trying to stay as inconspicuous as possible so he can steal a few cheap overs before anyone notices that he can be carted for 20 runs in an over without too much effort. ...

... Gilchrist has decided that this is his day, and there's nothing anyone can or could do it about. Not Murali. Not Malinga. Not McGrath, or Bracken, or Warne, or Dennis Lillee, or Keith Miller. ...

24th Over

... Great, Hayden's hitting edges to third man for four now. The eighteenth over, bowled by Fernando, went for 13 runs and not one of those came from anywhere near the middle of the bat. The beach ball is now out in the stands, the Mexican wave is probably not too far off... just another day of unbearable Australian dominance. ...

... Mark Nicholas is just going through all the random factors that have gone against Sri Lanka today:

-- They lost the toss.
-- The game was cut to 38 overs, which helps the Australian big hitters.
-- Although the air was humid, there was absolutely no swing for Vaas.
-- Muralitharan has less overs to bowl and be dangerous.
-- The ball will get less scuffed up for someone like Malinga to exploit the reverse swing. ...

... Gilchrist gets to his hundred with a top-edge for four over the infield in the second Powerplay. Australia have raced to 150 in no time and I doubt they've timed more than 50% of their balls. Hayden has yet to hit the middle of the bat in 50 deliveries and has somehow reached 38. Gilchrist has indeed smashed a few meaty sixes and fours, as he will do whenever he stays at the crease for any extended period of time, but he has mis-timed just as many of his shots. This is beyond ridiculous. ...

31st Over

... So is Gilly going to get a double-century in a World Cup final, off 38 overs?! Is that the plan for today? I can't believe this shit is happening again. Another absurdly flat pitch, another small ground, another toss won by Australia, another ugly pummeling. It's been four years since the massacre at Jo'burg, and look how little things have changed. ...

... So much for consolations: Gilchrist just got out for 149, and now Andrew Symonds (career strike rate: 92.3) comes in to bat. ...

38th Over

... Mark Nicholas must need a change of underwear pretty soon. That pre-cum should be accumulating at a scary rate the way he’s going on about the Australians. ...

... How many edges have gone to the third man boundary now for four? Eight? Ten? Malinga did nothing wrong in his 7th over, and he still got hit for thirteen. ...

… Watson was made to look very, very ordinary by Malinga. He was trying to be cute by paddling the ball around the corner, but was too slow and ungainly and only succeeded in getting himself bowled. ...

... Some amazing death bowling by Malinga and Fernando, given the situation. (78 off the last 10)

I’m a little shell-shocked at the moment, to be honest. Hopefully I can get my bearings back before the chase.

Scraping a Bottomless Barrel

Far be it for me to get in the way of a healthy pissing-on-the-Australian-team session by Will Luke, but surely there are more valid complaints about the Aussies' on-field behaviour than the way they add the word "mate" to their calling between the wickets. How about the gratuitous chest-puffing, the premeditated cockiness, or the way that cockiness quickly turns into cruel hostility at the mere sight of resistance from the opposition?

Or, I don't know, how about the simple fact that they have visciously and joylessly obliterated everyone in their path won for about a generation, and it's gotten a little boring?

Good to see someone sharing the hate...

Will Luke wonders whether anyone will miss Australia's dominance in 10 years' time. Not him, it seems:

I will dance from the rooftops when some of their ageing limbs start to crumble. I’ve had enough of their strutting, their casual arrogance, their one-handed mis-hitting-for-six-over-long-on (Hayden; Gilchrist; whoever). It’s not big, it’s certainly not clever and it’s boring and ugly cricket.

How do I hate? Let me count the ways

It will become quite clear over the next few weeks that neither J-Paul nor I are big fans of the Australian cricket team. In fact, let me qualify that -- we really fucking hate the Australian cricket team. Why, you might ask? The easiest way to answer that question would be to say, "Why not?"

Since cricket is a game that only incurs popular interest at the international level, it should come as no surprise that patriotic and nationalistic impulses are what come to define most people's fanaticism. You are born in a country and you follow that country's efforts, no matter what, right? But if it's perfectly acceptable to base blind allegiance to a team on something as arbitrary as the strip of land where your parents happened to park their rocking van so many years ago, then what is wrong with basing non-allegiance on similar grounds? If you can love blindly, surely you hate blindly as well.

In fact, I feel I shouldn't even have to justify my hate as much as any fan of Australia should justify their devotion. Cheering for Australia is like cheering for the "CPU" character in a console video game. It is gaining enjoyment out of robotic precision and bullying tactics. It is supporting the winner solely for the sense of superiority -- like cheering for Ivan Drago against Rocky, or hoping the house cleans everyone out in a casino.

Once you learn to embrace the fact that Australia are not just a winning team, but a dark force that exists to shatter dreams and obliterate hope, you start seeing the game in a new light. You judge every other team on their true merits and you revel in their exploits against the Dark Masters.

You also start to gain great pleasure from little moments in the game; sights and actions that you come to recognise as signs of impending doom for the Australians. They are few and far between, but oh how sweet they can be. A short collection:

The Gilly Powerwalk
Some players hang about endlessly at the crease after a dismissal, hanging their heads back, looking to the sky as if seeking divine confirmation. Some curse themselves, practicing the shot that led to their fall as they trudge off the field. Adam Gilchrist just speeds off in disgust, almost reaching the pavilion before the umpire even raises his finger. One gets the feeling that he would sprint back, if only it were kosher to do so; instead, he paces briskly, like a man who is already late for work but can't afford to break into a jog because he's afraid of showing up at the office with flop sweat so early in the morning.

Sometimes a fingernail is just a fingernail, right Punter?
Television coverage sometimes distorts the true nature of the game on the field. On TV, you tend to see a lot of tight reaction shots of captains, always seemingly deep in thought and deliberation. (Of course, that same treatment would lend even a 12th man on the sidelines a deep air of gravitas.)

One thing that the cameras don't deceive about is Ricky Ponting's intense oral fixation, made especially clear in times of stress. Hit a few fours and create a tiny bit of pressure on Australia's fielding, and you'll be certain to see Ponting gnawing on his fingernails like a fat kid with a melting ice-cream sandwich in the summer sun. Add to that the ubiquitous dear-in-the-headlights look and the pedestrian captaincy decision, and you start to wonder how often the Australian selectors rue the day they let Shane Warne's zipper issues override their better judgement and the will of a nation.

The McGrath Headshake
The sweetest sight of them all. You know things are starting to head south for the Aussies when metro-Glenn starts pulling out the trademark staccato shakes on the way back to his bowling mark. The most fascinating aspect of the McGrath Shake is how indiscriminate it seems to be. You often get the same shake when a high-calibre batsman hits him for a powerful four that you'd get when McGrath himself gets bowled by an unplayable reverse-swinging yorker. It says a lot about the man that after fifteen years of batting at no. 11 with an average of 3.83, he stills expresses disappointment about losing his wicket. Delusion, or just unmerited confidence? Either way, it is pure bliss for all the unapologetic Oz-haters of this world.