The AFL signing of rugby league star Israel Folau - let's separate fact from fiction.
Fact 1. This is a masterstroke for the AFL in its bid to stake a claim in western Sydney.
Fact 2. The reported money Folau will make from the switch is money well spent.
Fiction 1. Israel Folau will be a huge star in his new code.
Fiction 2. As a player, he is worth the reported $1 million-plus per annum earnings.
So how does fact and fiction one and two add up the real thing? Well it goes like this.
It's a coup for the AFL because of the positive impact it has on showcasing the code in a league-dominated region. Already it has created massive headlines.
Now, headlines in isolation don't equate to much. But publicity for the AFL is just what is needed for long-term benefits, in encouraging youngsters to grab a Sherrin in favour of the established league and union pathways.
But the fiction part is considerable. As great an athlete as he is, Israel Folau is destined to be little more than an average AFL player - at best. Yes, he can jump and yes, he can catch - or 'mark', as he'll now need to do in AFL. There's much more, however, to AFL than jumping and marking. More also than his yet to be acquired skills of kicking and handpassing.
These things can be learned. What can not be learned is instinct. Understanding a game which is multi-dimensional compared to the forward combat of league. And kicking, marking, handpassing, knocking forward at pace. Disposing of the ball in a split-second to avoid being penalised for holding the ball, rather than the keeping-possession discipline required of the six-tackle game.
Don't get me wrong. Most league stars could be successful on the AFL stage, but only
with a strong grounding in the indigenous game. Like the boys from Wagga Wagga. Paul Kelly (AFL) and Laurie Daley (NRL), like many in the border region, played both games as kids and could have starred in either direction. With time, Slater, Johns, Thurston, Lockyer, Hayne and a host of others could have become household names in the AFL. But only with the background of Kelly and Daley. Not from a starting point in the mid-20s.
Folau's only 21, but he's left it too late from an instinct perspective. At best, he'll become a serviceable AFL player, worth the average going rate of around $300,000 a year for his on-field contributions.
So why is reported contract of around $1.2 million per year money well spent? Purely because of the trailblazing nature of the move.
Folau will go from being a league star to a mere mortal, but worth more than twice his NRL contract due to the long-term recruiting filter system. The money is not about what he will bring to Greater Western Sydney in terms of match stats, but in terms of western Sydney teenagers further down the track.
If a league superstar's switch can have an impact on a handful of other - particularly Polynesian - kids, then the AFL's production line has kicked up another gear.
Other AFL players need to realise this is the nature of the recruiting strategy. In AFL, Folau is no Ablett or Franklin. But in the big picture, he's worth more money than them.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
State of Origin Hyperbole
In a world of sporting cliches, rugby league's State of Origin marketing has outlived its hype.
Every year, every game, we hear the call - State against State, mate against mate. We're told to expect fireworks, we're shown highlights of King Wally and Mark Geyer going toe-to-toe. We're also told NSW will start as favourites.
The concept has proved to be the making of rugby league and remains as one of the great contests on the Australian sporting calendar. As for worldwide attention, I fancy the claims that countries like the United States, China and Russia are glued to their 3D sets is somewhat exagerated.
We are still enthralled by the impending showdowns between the Blues and the Maroons. And yet, as the years roll by, the promotional hype fails to materialise.
The fact is that rarely do State of Origin matches result in an outbreak of football warfare. The game has moved on. Referees and judiciaries are less forgiving than they were even a decade ago.
This shouldn't be seen as a diluting of the contest. But the world has become more civilised, and what was seen as accepted and encouraged violence in sporting battles now raise understandable comparisons with deteriorating community standards.
The unpredictable nature of the outcome of the matches has taken a blow with a four-year dominance by the star-studded Queensland squad. For years the underdogs who collectively played above their individual worthiness, the Maroons now boast the undisputed superstars of rugby league. Slater, Thurston, Inglis, Folau, Lockyer, Smith - six of the biggest names in the sport.
The biggest names for the Blues? Try perhaps Watmough, Gidley, Morris, Kimmorley, Cooper and, of course, Hayne. Only Hayne could be considered anywhere near the elite status of the star Queenslanders. Even without the injured Smith in game one of the 2010 series, the Maroons were too good and more dominant that the 28-24 scoreline suggested.
The simple problem for NSW is this. They can't match the Maroons in terms of personnel and, unlike the era when Queensland had inferior talent, nor can NSW match the Maroons for passion - the vital ingredient that carried past Queensland teams to results that should not have been possible.
So, a message for the promoters. Yes, you still have a great product but let's forget the hype. The game is no longer likely to erupt into some sort of Ultimate Fighting Championship free-for-all (see blog December 21) and gone are the days when the Queensland fibros attempted to bring down the NSW silvertails.
Time has moved on.
Every year, every game, we hear the call - State against State, mate against mate. We're told to expect fireworks, we're shown highlights of King Wally and Mark Geyer going toe-to-toe. We're also told NSW will start as favourites.
The concept has proved to be the making of rugby league and remains as one of the great contests on the Australian sporting calendar. As for worldwide attention, I fancy the claims that countries like the United States, China and Russia are glued to their 3D sets is somewhat exagerated.
We are still enthralled by the impending showdowns between the Blues and the Maroons. And yet, as the years roll by, the promotional hype fails to materialise.
The fact is that rarely do State of Origin matches result in an outbreak of football warfare. The game has moved on. Referees and judiciaries are less forgiving than they were even a decade ago.
This shouldn't be seen as a diluting of the contest. But the world has become more civilised, and what was seen as accepted and encouraged violence in sporting battles now raise understandable comparisons with deteriorating community standards.
The unpredictable nature of the outcome of the matches has taken a blow with a four-year dominance by the star-studded Queensland squad. For years the underdogs who collectively played above their individual worthiness, the Maroons now boast the undisputed superstars of rugby league. Slater, Thurston, Inglis, Folau, Lockyer, Smith - six of the biggest names in the sport.
The biggest names for the Blues? Try perhaps Watmough, Gidley, Morris, Kimmorley, Cooper and, of course, Hayne. Only Hayne could be considered anywhere near the elite status of the star Queenslanders. Even without the injured Smith in game one of the 2010 series, the Maroons were too good and more dominant that the 28-24 scoreline suggested.
The simple problem for NSW is this. They can't match the Maroons in terms of personnel and, unlike the era when Queensland had inferior talent, nor can NSW match the Maroons for passion - the vital ingredient that carried past Queensland teams to results that should not have been possible.
So, a message for the promoters. Yes, you still have a great product but let's forget the hype. The game is no longer likely to erupt into some sort of Ultimate Fighting Championship free-for-all (see blog December 21) and gone are the days when the Queensland fibros attempted to bring down the NSW silvertails.
Time has moved on.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Suite101
Hi. Sorry about the inactivity here on SportChats, but I've been otherwise occupied.
I've just signed up with an online magazine - the address: www.suite101.com
Please check it out. It's a quality publication, which is something of a rarity when it comes to online media. It provides me with the opportunity to write on a range of topics and, in these fledgling days, that is exactly what I have done.
So please, take a peep at suite101 and your favourite writer, yours truly.
Back with more SportChats shortly.
Best wishes,
Mike
I've just signed up with an online magazine - the address: www.suite101.com
Please check it out. It's a quality publication, which is something of a rarity when it comes to online media. It provides me with the opportunity to write on a range of topics and, in these fledgling days, that is exactly what I have done.
So please, take a peep at suite101 and your favourite writer, yours truly.
Back with more SportChats shortly.
Best wishes,
Mike
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
OH CANADA!!! GROAN THE PODIUM
Canada is a nation in the midst of an identity crisis. Not knowing whether to politely and meekly accept second best, or whether to strive for number one -- and the knives are out.
Four years ago, Canada finished fourth on the medal count at the Winter Olympics in Turin. Not bad, you might think, for a country of 30 million people, competing against Winter Olympic superpowers such as Russia, Germany, the United States, Norway, Finland and Austria.
But, with the prospect of hosting the Vancouver Games looming, the Canadians wanted more. After-all, host countries traditionally salivate at the prospect of bulging medal tallies when their turn in the spotlight arrives.
So it was decided, no more Mr Nice Guy. Powerbrokers got together and created a campaign entitled 'Own the Podium', a statement of intent to finish not fourth, nor third or second on the medal tally. But to finish number one.
And that's where the problem started.
Much is said and written about Australia's jingoistic approach to sport. And the conviction with which Australia chases victory. But nothing can be compared to the approach by the Canadians in Vancouver.
Now don't get me wrong. First, I like Canadians immensely and, second, I believe they have done a wonderful job at hosting Vancouver 2010.
Further, I am of the opinion they have been the victim of much ill-founded criticism by some insufferables in the international media corps. On that point, the only valid criticism to be levelled at VANOC, the Vancouver Olympic Organising Committee, should be the fencing of the cauldron and the opportunistic punt taken on using the geographically-appealing but climatically-suspect Cypress Mountain as a venue. Otherwise, this has been a fantastic Olympic Games serviced by wonderfully friendly and helpful locals.
The Canadian athletes, however, have found themselves the unwitting subjects of a Cypress Mountain full of pressure. Own the Podium has become a monster for the athletes. The progress of the medal count has been the subject of front page reporting virtually on a daily basis. Gradually, Canada has fallen behind schedule and, as each day passes, the level of navel-gazing has become more intense.
Athletes have, in the eyes of the media and the expectant nation, 'failed'. They've wept in front of cameras and apologised for letting their country down. Newspaper and television reports have switched standpoints on a daily basis. From, 'what went wrong with Canada?' to 'athletes have no need to apologise' in a matter of hours.
Can't they see it? The officials and supporters invented this concept, the media reported it, and accepted it as gospel. How can they, in one breath ask why Canadian athletes are failing to achieve and, then in the next, say it really doesn't matter... who's counting anyway? That Own the Podium is to blame. Well excuse me, but who has run with Own the Podium??
Believe me, this is unlike anything Australia has conjured up in the past. With one exception. With hope and fingers crossed, Australia willed Cathy Freeman to her unforgettable 400 metres gold medal win in Sydney 2000. Here, however, it's across the board -- every Canadian athlete is carrying a target.
Interestingly, Australia has rated a mention in this whole process. Canadian athletes, it was claimed, were too content with second best. They wanted the Australian model, to win against all odds.
But you can't help but get the feeling that there's been a bit of bravado in implementing the program. In aspiring to take on and beat the world, the Canadian media and community at large has usurped the notional home-ground advantage. Rather than being bouyed by local support, many Canadian athletes have felt burdened by the expectations.
For all the good intentions, this all points to immaturity and a sense of an identity crisis on the part of the host nation.
Canada is trying to be something its not. Rather than competing at their best and letting the results take care of themselves, they've engaged in chest-thumping followed by apologies.
Meanwhile, the rest of us sit back and applaud the successes that come their way. They're likeable folk. They deserve it. They just have to learn how to aspire without crucifying their athletes.
Four years ago, Canada finished fourth on the medal count at the Winter Olympics in Turin. Not bad, you might think, for a country of 30 million people, competing against Winter Olympic superpowers such as Russia, Germany, the United States, Norway, Finland and Austria.
But, with the prospect of hosting the Vancouver Games looming, the Canadians wanted more. After-all, host countries traditionally salivate at the prospect of bulging medal tallies when their turn in the spotlight arrives.
So it was decided, no more Mr Nice Guy. Powerbrokers got together and created a campaign entitled 'Own the Podium', a statement of intent to finish not fourth, nor third or second on the medal tally. But to finish number one.
And that's where the problem started.
Much is said and written about Australia's jingoistic approach to sport. And the conviction with which Australia chases victory. But nothing can be compared to the approach by the Canadians in Vancouver.
Now don't get me wrong. First, I like Canadians immensely and, second, I believe they have done a wonderful job at hosting Vancouver 2010.
Further, I am of the opinion they have been the victim of much ill-founded criticism by some insufferables in the international media corps. On that point, the only valid criticism to be levelled at VANOC, the Vancouver Olympic Organising Committee, should be the fencing of the cauldron and the opportunistic punt taken on using the geographically-appealing but climatically-suspect Cypress Mountain as a venue. Otherwise, this has been a fantastic Olympic Games serviced by wonderfully friendly and helpful locals.
The Canadian athletes, however, have found themselves the unwitting subjects of a Cypress Mountain full of pressure. Own the Podium has become a monster for the athletes. The progress of the medal count has been the subject of front page reporting virtually on a daily basis. Gradually, Canada has fallen behind schedule and, as each day passes, the level of navel-gazing has become more intense.
Athletes have, in the eyes of the media and the expectant nation, 'failed'. They've wept in front of cameras and apologised for letting their country down. Newspaper and television reports have switched standpoints on a daily basis. From, 'what went wrong with Canada?' to 'athletes have no need to apologise' in a matter of hours.
Can't they see it? The officials and supporters invented this concept, the media reported it, and accepted it as gospel. How can they, in one breath ask why Canadian athletes are failing to achieve and, then in the next, say it really doesn't matter... who's counting anyway? That Own the Podium is to blame. Well excuse me, but who has run with Own the Podium??
Believe me, this is unlike anything Australia has conjured up in the past. With one exception. With hope and fingers crossed, Australia willed Cathy Freeman to her unforgettable 400 metres gold medal win in Sydney 2000. Here, however, it's across the board -- every Canadian athlete is carrying a target.
Interestingly, Australia has rated a mention in this whole process. Canadian athletes, it was claimed, were too content with second best. They wanted the Australian model, to win against all odds.
But you can't help but get the feeling that there's been a bit of bravado in implementing the program. In aspiring to take on and beat the world, the Canadian media and community at large has usurped the notional home-ground advantage. Rather than being bouyed by local support, many Canadian athletes have felt burdened by the expectations.
For all the good intentions, this all points to immaturity and a sense of an identity crisis on the part of the host nation.
Canada is trying to be something its not. Rather than competing at their best and letting the results take care of themselves, they've engaged in chest-thumping followed by apologies.
Meanwhile, the rest of us sit back and applaud the successes that come their way. They're likeable folk. They deserve it. They just have to learn how to aspire without crucifying their athletes.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
SEPP'S 2022 GIFT TO AUSTRALIA
Australia's soccer administrators are in an embarrassing flap over Sepp Blatter's latest redesigning of world football protocol.
The FIFA boss took Australia by surprise earlier this week when he declared that the race for the right to stage the 2018 World Cup was likely to become a closed shop affair. Closed shop as far as non-European countries are concerned, that is.
These are the words that sent shockwaves through Football Federation Australia.
"From what I've discussed with the president of UEFA, Michel Platini, in the last few days in Moscow is that only a European candidate will be evaluated for the 2018 World Cup," Blatter said.
"There is a movement at the moment among the various candidates that in the end it would be a good solution ... if the candidates for 2018 would only be those from Europe.
"It's not been finally decided but it's the idea, also to make the work of FIFA easier and especially that of the executive committee."
Yes, we're sure it seems like a good solution... for European bidders. And, as Blatter pointed out, it would make the work of FIFA easier. Well, we're pleased about that, but the pleasure would have been far greater had this been preordained when bids were invited in the first place.
However, let's pause for a moment and take a big, deep breath. While relocating the goalposts in flight is an unsportsmanlike manoeuvre, the new rules may in fact be beneficial to Australia in the long term.
For starters, let's look at the bidding nations for 2018. Australia, Belgium/Netherlands, England, Indonesia, Japan, Mexico, Portugal/Spain, Russia, United States. For 2022, it's the same again plus Qatar and South Korea.
The World Cup has been staged 18 times since 1930, and on 9 occasions it's been hosted in Europe. That's a 50 percent strike rate. This year it's in South Africa and in 2014 it will be in Brazil. That will be the first time consecutive World Cups have been contested outside of Europe and, with Korea and Japan joint hosting in 2002, that makes it three out of four away from the sport's biggest region.
Naturally, with or without a proclamation from Sepp Blatter, the 2018 host country would be in Europe, either Russia, England, Portugal/Spain or Belgium/Netherlands.
That would then clear the way for a non-European Cup of 2022 where Australia's candidature would be assessed against Indonesia, Japan, Mexico, the United States, Qatar and South Korea. And quite frankly, despite the huge disadvantage of the Antipodean time zone, there's not too much to frighten Australia in that lot.
For starters, Japan and South Korea hosted in 2002. The US hosted in 1994 and Mexico has hosted twice before, in 1970 and 1986. No country has been awarded the honour of hosting the world's biggest event three times.
So, on that basis, it would seem Australia's biggest rivals would be Indonesia and oil-rich Qatar.
Australia enjoys a healthy reputation for staging major international events such as the 2000 Olympics, the rugby World Cup, Melbourne's Formula One Grand Prix and the Australian Open tennis. Soccer remains a sport in its infancy but, with successive qualifications to the 2006 and 2010 World Cups, FIFA member nations are aware Australia and its new presence in Asia has much to offer the development of the code.
In fact, there's a strong case to be mounted that Australia, without the might of the European threat, would emerge from a rank outsider to outright favourite for 2022 should Sepp Blatter's new decree be pushed through.
So far from taking umbrage at Blatter and his FIFA executive, Australia should quietly hope the goalposts are shifted, providing a clear passage directly to the Cup finals in 12 years' time.
The FIFA boss took Australia by surprise earlier this week when he declared that the race for the right to stage the 2018 World Cup was likely to become a closed shop affair. Closed shop as far as non-European countries are concerned, that is.
These are the words that sent shockwaves through Football Federation Australia.
"From what I've discussed with the president of UEFA, Michel Platini, in the last few days in Moscow is that only a European candidate will be evaluated for the 2018 World Cup," Blatter said.
"There is a movement at the moment among the various candidates that in the end it would be a good solution ... if the candidates for 2018 would only be those from Europe.
"It's not been finally decided but it's the idea, also to make the work of FIFA easier and especially that of the executive committee."
Yes, we're sure it seems like a good solution... for European bidders. And, as Blatter pointed out, it would make the work of FIFA easier. Well, we're pleased about that, but the pleasure would have been far greater had this been preordained when bids were invited in the first place.
However, let's pause for a moment and take a big, deep breath. While relocating the goalposts in flight is an unsportsmanlike manoeuvre, the new rules may in fact be beneficial to Australia in the long term.
For starters, let's look at the bidding nations for 2018. Australia, Belgium/Netherlands, England, Indonesia, Japan, Mexico, Portugal/Spain, Russia, United States. For 2022, it's the same again plus Qatar and South Korea.
The World Cup has been staged 18 times since 1930, and on 9 occasions it's been hosted in Europe. That's a 50 percent strike rate. This year it's in South Africa and in 2014 it will be in Brazil. That will be the first time consecutive World Cups have been contested outside of Europe and, with Korea and Japan joint hosting in 2002, that makes it three out of four away from the sport's biggest region.
Naturally, with or without a proclamation from Sepp Blatter, the 2018 host country would be in Europe, either Russia, England, Portugal/Spain or Belgium/Netherlands.
That would then clear the way for a non-European Cup of 2022 where Australia's candidature would be assessed against Indonesia, Japan, Mexico, the United States, Qatar and South Korea. And quite frankly, despite the huge disadvantage of the Antipodean time zone, there's not too much to frighten Australia in that lot.
For starters, Japan and South Korea hosted in 2002. The US hosted in 1994 and Mexico has hosted twice before, in 1970 and 1986. No country has been awarded the honour of hosting the world's biggest event three times.
So, on that basis, it would seem Australia's biggest rivals would be Indonesia and oil-rich Qatar.
Australia enjoys a healthy reputation for staging major international events such as the 2000 Olympics, the rugby World Cup, Melbourne's Formula One Grand Prix and the Australian Open tennis. Soccer remains a sport in its infancy but, with successive qualifications to the 2006 and 2010 World Cups, FIFA member nations are aware Australia and its new presence in Asia has much to offer the development of the code.
In fact, there's a strong case to be mounted that Australia, without the might of the European threat, would emerge from a rank outsider to outright favourite for 2022 should Sepp Blatter's new decree be pushed through.
So far from taking umbrage at Blatter and his FIFA executive, Australia should quietly hope the goalposts are shifted, providing a clear passage directly to the Cup finals in 12 years' time.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
UNEARTHED: THE PROBLEM WITH AUSTRALIAN TENNIS
For over 20 years, Australian tennis has undergone its annual period of introspection over the last fortnight of January.
As local hopes come and go equally quickly during the first week of the Australian Open, the perennial question is raised: what has gone wrong with Australian tennis?
For a country with such a proud Davis Cup history, and the producer of a string of Grand Slam champions in the 1950s, 60s and 70s, the dearth of current stars in the decades since has been sorrowful and soul-destroying.
Not since Mark Edmondson in 1976 and Chris O'Neil in 1978 scored unlikely victories
have Australians claimed the singles crowns at their home Grand Slam. Since then, of course, Evonne Goolagong Cawley, Pat Cash, Pat Rafter and Lleyton Hewitt have won
other Grand Slam titles and proudly carried the hopes of their nation to Kooyong and, in the years since 1988, Melbourne Park. Despite their heroics, however, the home trophy cabinet has been bare.
So again, we pose that question, what's wrong with Australian tennis?
Well, there are many reasons, including the well documented increase in popularity of the sport on a global basis, reaching out to far more countries and players than in the past, and the growth and popularity of competing sports in our own backyard.
But one reason not generally flagged is this: real estate. We are often told that Australia has the most expensive real estate in the country, and now it's having an adverse impact on sport.
Despite the vastness of the Australian continent, around 90% of our 22 million inhabitants are urban dwellers, and most of us live in cities on the south-eastern seaboard. Our cities are being stretched to breaking point, and the price of land has increased accordingly.
So what's all this to do with tennis? Well, let's add squash into the equation as well.
Baby boomers growing up in the tennis golden years will remember the lay of the land. Quarter-acre blocks, hills hoists, footy ovals, cricket pitches... and, yes, tennis and squash courts.
It was a way of life for the kids of the 60s. Find a tennis court, have a hit. Since then, some footy ovals and cricket pitches have become victims to the developers and bulldozers, but our cities are still generally well served in catering for those team sports.
For tennis and squash, however, it's a different story. Most have made way for housing or, perhaps, general community facilities. How many squash courts can you think of in your area? Or tennis courts for that matter?
You see, both tennis and squash are somewhat exclusive sports, not in elitist terms but, by their very nature, in providing opportunities for mass participation. A tennis court caters for a maximum of four players at any one time, with occupation generally for an hour or more.
As a consequence, court operators promote coaching clinics to increase revenue, and
members rightfully assume their time and territory as well. It all means the old days of rolling along to a perhaps net bedraggled, surface eroding, but nonetheless vacant, tennis court and having a hit for fun, is an activity of the past.
Like much of society in 2010, securing a tennis court is a more organised and structured chore than the carefree ways that encouraged the participation, and ultimate development, of names like Laver, Roche, Newcombe, Court and Goolagong.
Not all kids want structure in their down time. As well intentioned as Tennis Australia and various development programs may be, not all kids want to spend their time at coaching clinics. Initially at least, most of them just want to go an have fun over their summer holidays, whether that's by a swimming pool, at the beach, on their bikes or... on a tennis court.
So, the simplistic answer is this. Turn back the clock. Provide more community tennis facilities for kids to develop an interest in the game and include it in their fun time. From there, the serious contenders will become apparent. That's the time for coaching clinics and tennis camps.
With real estate values the way they are, it's easier said than done.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
BERNARD'S BABY BABBLE
Even in defeat, young Bernard Tomic did a lot right on the court during the second round of his Australian Open match with Marin Cilic.
This 17 year old precocious talent looked the number 14 seed squarely in the eye, taking two sets off the 14th seeded Croatian before losing in five, 6-7 6-3 4-66-2 6-4. A great sign for the future and Tomic should take plenty of confidence on his busy sojourn around the international circuit in 2010.
But that's where the good stuff ended. Off the court and into the media interview room, and Tomicitis struck again. Take it away Bernard.
"To finish at this time, it's tough. You know, look, I have no excuses, but I think if I'd have played during the day, which I requested, it could have been all changed. I think I should have won," Tomic said.
"But I'm proud of the way I played. It's difficult for me, I had the same problem last year.
"After 1am, 2am, for a 17-year-old to go out and play, it's difficult. For the people I requested to play during the day, and it didn't happen, I think it's ridiculous."
Point one. Please don't tell us there are no excuses, only to add he would have won with different scheduling. That's an excuse.
Point two. The scheduling may have its pitfalls -- many critics attest to that -- but it is the same for both players at both ends of the court. So, tick to that point. But the moment Tomic said, 'for a 17-year-old...' he was in credibility trouble.
Age should have nothing to do with scheduling for Grand Slam tennis. If he's good enough to compete, he competes under the same circumstances as every other player. To expect organisers to schedule matches according to sleep requirements of particular players is a ridiculous and immature notion.
International tennis is a tough game. There's much to learn for young players and it's not just about serving, receiving, backhands, forehands, volleys and overhead smashes. It's also about mental toughness and, to a degree, how to engage the public relations battle.
Team Tomic is on track with the on-court elements of tennis education. Unfortunately, much work is required when it comes to talking about the game.
Incidentally, this is not a 'bag Tomic blog', despite successive posts critical of his persona. It's exciting for Australian tennis to watch his emergence. We can only cross our fingers and pray that he doesn't continue to shoot himself in the foot.
This 17 year old precocious talent looked the number 14 seed squarely in the eye, taking two sets off the 14th seeded Croatian before losing in five, 6-7 6-3 4-66-2 6-4. A great sign for the future and Tomic should take plenty of confidence on his busy sojourn around the international circuit in 2010.
But that's where the good stuff ended. Off the court and into the media interview room, and Tomicitis struck again. Take it away Bernard.
"To finish at this time, it's tough. You know, look, I have no excuses, but I think if I'd have played during the day, which I requested, it could have been all changed. I think I should have won," Tomic said.
"But I'm proud of the way I played. It's difficult for me, I had the same problem last year.
"After 1am, 2am, for a 17-year-old to go out and play, it's difficult. For the people I requested to play during the day, and it didn't happen, I think it's ridiculous."
Point one. Please don't tell us there are no excuses, only to add he would have won with different scheduling. That's an excuse.
Point two. The scheduling may have its pitfalls -- many critics attest to that -- but it is the same for both players at both ends of the court. So, tick to that point. But the moment Tomic said, 'for a 17-year-old...' he was in credibility trouble.
Age should have nothing to do with scheduling for Grand Slam tennis. If he's good enough to compete, he competes under the same circumstances as every other player. To expect organisers to schedule matches according to sleep requirements of particular players is a ridiculous and immature notion.
International tennis is a tough game. There's much to learn for young players and it's not just about serving, receiving, backhands, forehands, volleys and overhead smashes. It's also about mental toughness and, to a degree, how to engage the public relations battle.
Team Tomic is on track with the on-court elements of tennis education. Unfortunately, much work is required when it comes to talking about the game.
Incidentally, this is not a 'bag Tomic blog', despite successive posts critical of his persona. It's exciting for Australian tennis to watch his emergence. We can only cross our fingers and pray that he doesn't continue to shoot himself in the foot.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
IT'S JUST NOT CRICKET... BUT WHO CARES?
And so we come to the end of another Australian summer of Test cricket, bringing with it plenty of revelations.
Such as the emergence of Shane Watson, who managed to keep his body in one piece for the entire six Test matches, Nathan Hauritz ability to actually spin the ball and take wickets in the process, the complete ineptitude of Pakistan in the field and so on it goes.
But a far bigger revelation has been a revolution unfolding on the periphery of the international scene, long after the Test players have departed from their days' toil. A case of the mice coming out while the cats are away.
We're talking here about the Big Bash, the Twenty20 domestic smashathon being played out between State sides the Redbacks, Bushrangers, Bulls, Tigers, Warriors and, the somewhat mundanely named, Blues.
The success of this most condensed format of the game has been quite astonishing. Last Friday evening, a staggering crowd of more than 43,000 turned up at the MCG to watch Victoria beat Queensland. Last night, in a match where the result was irrelevant, NSW and South Australia attracted a crowd of more than 26,000 to ANZ Stadium in Sydney.
Remember, the players here are the same -- with the odd exception -- as those who play four-day Sheffield Shield matches in front of maybe 200 spectators on other days of the week. And the same as those who play the 'traditional' limited overs games of 50 overs a side, matches which must seem to some T20 fans as a relic of the olden days.
So what does all this say about the cricket watching public? Does it imply the days of Test cricket are numbered? Or that the 50 overs games are about to become redundant? Or simply that there is an audience, possibly a different audience, that has embraced the add water and stir format in addition to the three veg and meat crowd who've tucked in for some many years.
T20 is a reflection on the changing desires of society. In a world where we are spoilt for choice, often time poor and with diminishing concentration levels, the smash and bash approach of this game has hit the spot.
Five days of Test cricket may be too long for some. Four days of Sheffield Shield cricket too long for others. And even 100 overs for a one-dayer is a bit of a drag for the new breed.
Rather, T20 comes, creates havoc and goes, in the space of three hours. This is a game where batsmen play themselves in as they dash to the wicket -- forget the two or three overs bit. It's a game where hat-tricks become the norm. It's a game where statisticians count sixes more than fours. It's a game where bowling figures contain, not maidens, but dot balls! Yes, every ball is crucial in this form of the game where a comfortable target is around eight an over and a team can't feel safe even with 200 on the board.
It's mad helter-skelter cricket. Fox Sports should be congratulated with its presentation of these games, with the lively commentary team of Brendan Julian, Damien Fleming, Mark Waugh and Co., and the smiling face of Sarah Jones meeting and greeting the batsmen for their insights immediately on their dismissals. The commentators are sometimes a little irreverent and always having fun.
It may not be for the purists but, you know, it grows on you. The fans are voting with their feet by attending the games. They have fun, as do the players, notwithstanding the riches that await those who can make a name for themselves and impress the powerbrokers of the IPL in India.
Despite the occasional grim forecasts, T20 is not sounding the death knell for Test cricket. It's bringing a new audience to a game that's still called cricket, but not the sort of cricket some of us grew up with.
As Molly would say, do yourself a favour. Take off your blinkers and accept it for what it is. Because this convert has decided there's a lot to like about it.
Such as the emergence of Shane Watson, who managed to keep his body in one piece for the entire six Test matches, Nathan Hauritz ability to actually spin the ball and take wickets in the process, the complete ineptitude of Pakistan in the field and so on it goes.
But a far bigger revelation has been a revolution unfolding on the periphery of the international scene, long after the Test players have departed from their days' toil. A case of the mice coming out while the cats are away.
We're talking here about the Big Bash, the Twenty20 domestic smashathon being played out between State sides the Redbacks, Bushrangers, Bulls, Tigers, Warriors and, the somewhat mundanely named, Blues.
The success of this most condensed format of the game has been quite astonishing. Last Friday evening, a staggering crowd of more than 43,000 turned up at the MCG to watch Victoria beat Queensland. Last night, in a match where the result was irrelevant, NSW and South Australia attracted a crowd of more than 26,000 to ANZ Stadium in Sydney.
Remember, the players here are the same -- with the odd exception -- as those who play four-day Sheffield Shield matches in front of maybe 200 spectators on other days of the week. And the same as those who play the 'traditional' limited overs games of 50 overs a side, matches which must seem to some T20 fans as a relic of the olden days.
So what does all this say about the cricket watching public? Does it imply the days of Test cricket are numbered? Or that the 50 overs games are about to become redundant? Or simply that there is an audience, possibly a different audience, that has embraced the add water and stir format in addition to the three veg and meat crowd who've tucked in for some many years.
T20 is a reflection on the changing desires of society. In a world where we are spoilt for choice, often time poor and with diminishing concentration levels, the smash and bash approach of this game has hit the spot.
Five days of Test cricket may be too long for some. Four days of Sheffield Shield cricket too long for others. And even 100 overs for a one-dayer is a bit of a drag for the new breed.
Rather, T20 comes, creates havoc and goes, in the space of three hours. This is a game where batsmen play themselves in as they dash to the wicket -- forget the two or three overs bit. It's a game where hat-tricks become the norm. It's a game where statisticians count sixes more than fours. It's a game where bowling figures contain, not maidens, but dot balls! Yes, every ball is crucial in this form of the game where a comfortable target is around eight an over and a team can't feel safe even with 200 on the board.
It's mad helter-skelter cricket. Fox Sports should be congratulated with its presentation of these games, with the lively commentary team of Brendan Julian, Damien Fleming, Mark Waugh and Co., and the smiling face of Sarah Jones meeting and greeting the batsmen for their insights immediately on their dismissals. The commentators are sometimes a little irreverent and always having fun.
It may not be for the purists but, you know, it grows on you. The fans are voting with their feet by attending the games. They have fun, as do the players, notwithstanding the riches that await those who can make a name for themselves and impress the powerbrokers of the IPL in India.
Despite the occasional grim forecasts, T20 is not sounding the death knell for Test cricket. It's bringing a new audience to a game that's still called cricket, but not the sort of cricket some of us grew up with.
As Molly would say, do yourself a favour. Take off your blinkers and accept it for what it is. Because this convert has decided there's a lot to like about it.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
SHOW LLEYTON RESPECT, BERNARD
For all his achievements, Lleyton Hewitt is not the most loved of Australia's sports stars.
A Wimbledon singles crown, a US Open title and lion-hearted Davis Cup efforts to keep Australia afloat in less than prosperous times just doesn't seem enough.
These days, Hewitt rarely shows signs of his precocious but sometimes obnoxious youth, but it seems the image of a ranting and sullen Hewitt is hard to live down. Unlike Roger Federer, he's not the boy every mum would love her daughter to bring home.
But despite his past imperfections, something we all share, Hewitt is a far more mature and personable man than he was as a kid. And, at the moment, he's being hard done by.
The spat between Hewitt and Bernard Tomic has been the talk of Australian tennis since teenager Tomic declined an invitation to hit with Hewitt at Wimbledon six months ago.
Tomic, of course, has claimed the fear of infecting Hewitt with swine flu was his well-intentioned but impausable reason for the snub. Regardless, it wasn't a smart move and, over the ensuing months, the Tomic camp has done little to resolve the dispute. Hewitt, understandly, is less than impressed and not inclined to demonstrate a willingness to make peace.
So let us arbitrate. At Wimbledon, we have one of Australia's most decorated players offering to continue a fine national tradition of nurturing a rising star. Possibly a future Davis Cup team-mate.
And yet Tomic, a lad with plenty of ability but little success to date, effectively gives him the cold shoulder. A snub? Absolutely a snub. Swine flu or not.
Tomic has big ambitions. At 14, he predicted, that by 18 he would hold all four Grand Slam titles. He's now 17 and ranked close to 300 in the world, with not a major in sight. It's going to take a chart-stopping 2010 for the youngster to realise his goal.
Not that there's anything wrong with confidence and ambition. Indeed, without them, there's little chance of reaching the top. But a healthy dose of humility and reality along the way is also advisable. Along with the courage to say sorry -- I stuffed up.
Hewitt should not take any of the blame for this dispute. In fact, a player of his standing in the game should not have been dragged into such an undignified and childish squabble in the first place. Not a former world number one, when he's on the receiving end of a cold shoulder from a new kid on the block.
Both players are receiving advice to shake hands and make up. Good advice, but you can't expect Hewitt to make the first move.
Just as Hewitt finds it difficult to rid himself of a public image formed as a teenager, in years to come, Tomic might find himself in the same boat.
Unless he grows up quickly.
A Wimbledon singles crown, a US Open title and lion-hearted Davis Cup efforts to keep Australia afloat in less than prosperous times just doesn't seem enough.
These days, Hewitt rarely shows signs of his precocious but sometimes obnoxious youth, but it seems the image of a ranting and sullen Hewitt is hard to live down. Unlike Roger Federer, he's not the boy every mum would love her daughter to bring home.
But despite his past imperfections, something we all share, Hewitt is a far more mature and personable man than he was as a kid. And, at the moment, he's being hard done by.
The spat between Hewitt and Bernard Tomic has been the talk of Australian tennis since teenager Tomic declined an invitation to hit with Hewitt at Wimbledon six months ago.
Tomic, of course, has claimed the fear of infecting Hewitt with swine flu was his well-intentioned but impausable reason for the snub. Regardless, it wasn't a smart move and, over the ensuing months, the Tomic camp has done little to resolve the dispute. Hewitt, understandly, is less than impressed and not inclined to demonstrate a willingness to make peace.
So let us arbitrate. At Wimbledon, we have one of Australia's most decorated players offering to continue a fine national tradition of nurturing a rising star. Possibly a future Davis Cup team-mate.
And yet Tomic, a lad with plenty of ability but little success to date, effectively gives him the cold shoulder. A snub? Absolutely a snub. Swine flu or not.
Tomic has big ambitions. At 14, he predicted, that by 18 he would hold all four Grand Slam titles. He's now 17 and ranked close to 300 in the world, with not a major in sight. It's going to take a chart-stopping 2010 for the youngster to realise his goal.
Not that there's anything wrong with confidence and ambition. Indeed, without them, there's little chance of reaching the top. But a healthy dose of humility and reality along the way is also advisable. Along with the courage to say sorry -- I stuffed up.
Hewitt should not take any of the blame for this dispute. In fact, a player of his standing in the game should not have been dragged into such an undignified and childish squabble in the first place. Not a former world number one, when he's on the receiving end of a cold shoulder from a new kid on the block.
Both players are receiving advice to shake hands and make up. Good advice, but you can't expect Hewitt to make the first move.
Just as Hewitt finds it difficult to rid himself of a public image formed as a teenager, in years to come, Tomic might find himself in the same boat.
Unless he grows up quickly.
Monday, January 11, 2010
THE SMELL OF SUCCESS
In this world of constant football expansionism, it's easy to be sceptical about the chances of success of new teams.
However, just a few months after their launch and more than 12 months before they play their first game in rugby's Super 15s, the Melbourne Rebels have that whiff of success about them.
Their ownership structure looks sound and, indeed, worrying for the established big players on the Melbourne sports scape. Harold Mitchell has taken his business acumen from the advertising world into rugby union and, like a good spruiker, he's making all the right noises.
The franchise has the backing of the Victorian State government and the team will play out of a brand new, state of the art, purpose-built stadium.
And now, a major coup for the fledgling outfit with the signing of Brian Waldon as chief executive officer. That's the Brian Waldron who has overseen the stunning success of the Melbourne Storm over the past five years, a period of four successive grand finals and two premierships. And the same Brian Waldron who cut his teeth in sports administration with AFL clubs St Kilda and Richmond.
Waldron, a man who speaks his mind, has occasionally found himself offside with rugby league administrators but, over the period of his stewardship, has asserted himself as a respected leader of the code.
This is a masterstroke appointment by Mitchell. Waldron is a Melbourne man and his experience with a foreign code club in an AFL city will prove invaluable for the Rebels. Not to mention the benefits of his corporate associations and networks in establishment Melbourne.
And that's another thing. The Victorian capital, for all its infatuation with AFL, is an establishment city, where the old school tie plays a prominent part in all aspects of society. In that sense rugby union, with its traditional college roots spreading into Australian business circles, represents a far better fit for Melbourne than does rugby league, the game proud of its working class, blue collar background.
In fact, Mitchell excitedly points out that Scotch College in Melbourne has produced no less than four Wallabies - Ewen McKenzie, Richard Harry, Andrew Heath and David Fitter.
So, in a few short months, Melbourne's Super 15 team has a name, a new stadium, a wealthy and astute owner and the best-credentialled CEO they could ever hope for.
Lurking in the background are former Wallaby coaches Rod Macqueen and John Connolly, both of whom are expected to accept key roles within the organisation. And, naturally, the Rebels are talking of recruiting big names to bolster their playing stocks in their formative years.
Like all new teams, the Melbourne Rebels will experience the hard yards early on, but one gets the feeling this franchise will be around for a long time, and success will never be far away.
Brian Waldron will remain with the Melbourne Storm for another month and he is a loyal man to the rugby league club. But he is a man who will perform his new role at his best, and that may well be to the long-term detriment to the Storm.
AFL clubs may not be too concerned about the birth of the Rebels, but rugby league should be.
However, just a few months after their launch and more than 12 months before they play their first game in rugby's Super 15s, the Melbourne Rebels have that whiff of success about them.
Their ownership structure looks sound and, indeed, worrying for the established big players on the Melbourne sports scape. Harold Mitchell has taken his business acumen from the advertising world into rugby union and, like a good spruiker, he's making all the right noises.
The franchise has the backing of the Victorian State government and the team will play out of a brand new, state of the art, purpose-built stadium.
And now, a major coup for the fledgling outfit with the signing of Brian Waldon as chief executive officer. That's the Brian Waldron who has overseen the stunning success of the Melbourne Storm over the past five years, a period of four successive grand finals and two premierships. And the same Brian Waldron who cut his teeth in sports administration with AFL clubs St Kilda and Richmond.
Waldron, a man who speaks his mind, has occasionally found himself offside with rugby league administrators but, over the period of his stewardship, has asserted himself as a respected leader of the code.
This is a masterstroke appointment by Mitchell. Waldron is a Melbourne man and his experience with a foreign code club in an AFL city will prove invaluable for the Rebels. Not to mention the benefits of his corporate associations and networks in establishment Melbourne.
And that's another thing. The Victorian capital, for all its infatuation with AFL, is an establishment city, where the old school tie plays a prominent part in all aspects of society. In that sense rugby union, with its traditional college roots spreading into Australian business circles, represents a far better fit for Melbourne than does rugby league, the game proud of its working class, blue collar background.
In fact, Mitchell excitedly points out that Scotch College in Melbourne has produced no less than four Wallabies - Ewen McKenzie, Richard Harry, Andrew Heath and David Fitter.
So, in a few short months, Melbourne's Super 15 team has a name, a new stadium, a wealthy and astute owner and the best-credentialled CEO they could ever hope for.
Lurking in the background are former Wallaby coaches Rod Macqueen and John Connolly, both of whom are expected to accept key roles within the organisation. And, naturally, the Rebels are talking of recruiting big names to bolster their playing stocks in their formative years.
Like all new teams, the Melbourne Rebels will experience the hard yards early on, but one gets the feeling this franchise will be around for a long time, and success will never be far away.
Brian Waldron will remain with the Melbourne Storm for another month and he is a loyal man to the rugby league club. But he is a man who will perform his new role at his best, and that may well be to the long-term detriment to the Storm.
AFL clubs may not be too concerned about the birth of the Rebels, but rugby league should be.
Thursday, January 7, 2010
THE TRUTH ABOUT TIGER
We're going to learn a lot about the character of Tiger Woods over the next few months.
With sensational headlines surrounding his very personal life showing no signs of abating, the big question now is when and where will the world's most celebrated sports star show his face in public. When will he emerge from a self-imposed hibernation as his perfect world disintegrated around him in the blink of an eye?
Speculation has been rife as to his whereabouts over the past turbulent six weeks, ranging from a Caribbean cruise to lick the wounds aboard his wishfully named yacht Privacy, to an African hideaway, to a New York trist with his most recent mistress Rachel Uchitel, about whom the whole sorry saga unfolded when her trip to Melbourne was revealed.
Most of us would probably decide on a life of relative seclusion from here on, trying to make do on the remaining $US700 million of his estimated fortune, now that wife Elin has elected to take the money ($US$300 million) rather than play on.
But, as we have discovered both on and off the golf course, Tiger Woods is not like most of us. His strike rate on both counts is far better than mere mortals could possible hope to emulate.
According to a report by Gary D'Amato of the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel, Tiger will be back on the golf course sooner rather than later. D'Amato predicts it will be in late March, at the Arnold Palmer Invitational at Bay Hill Club in Florida.
His reasoning goes like this. Woods lives for golf. It's the reason for his being. Already, he's won 14 majors and the Jack Nicklaus record of 18 victories has always been, and remains, a massive driving force. The next of the majors is the US Masters at Augusta scheduled for April 8-11, and Woods will have every intention of lining up in the field. And, as he will want a lead-in tournament pre-Masters, pencil in the Bay Hill event a fortnight earlier.
Such is the status of the Masters, the galleries will be respectful and respond to Woods and all players for their golf alone. And the media corps will also be kind to Tiger, with accreditation forwarded only to journalists who cover golf on a regular basis and not, the assertion goes, the muck-raking gossip writers.
So, in effect, although Woods would be re-entering the public arena at the US Masters, he would, as has always been the case, be surrounded by minders in a cocoon protective of the outside world.
But how will he respond? Tiger Woods is renowned for his poker-faced demeanour, giving little away. When the photo of Woods emerged earlier this week portraying a bare-chested street-fighter image, an accompanying non-flattering article suggested he'd offended onlookers with a string of lewd profanities during an interview. That interview was dated 1997 when he was 21, and the writer suggested it was probably the last time the real Tiger Woods presented himself to the public.
Since then and until recently, he's been the consumate professional. A corporate businessman who's business is golf. Always with the right words to say at the right time.
So has it all been a sham, with Woods hiding behind a mask of sincerity for the betterment of his career? Now that the facade has been lifted, how will he present himself to the golfing public?
Will he be so stoic as to tee up and drive down the middle of the first as if nothing has happened, and rebuild his golf and corporate profile? Or will he, perhaps, feel unburdened somewhat, and return as the real Tiger Woods. That is, a great golfer, but a man who no longer feels the need to traverse the fairways as an infallible role model. With a blond or two in tow.
Perhaps a lemonade with John Daly would do the trick.
With sensational headlines surrounding his very personal life showing no signs of abating, the big question now is when and where will the world's most celebrated sports star show his face in public. When will he emerge from a self-imposed hibernation as his perfect world disintegrated around him in the blink of an eye?
Speculation has been rife as to his whereabouts over the past turbulent six weeks, ranging from a Caribbean cruise to lick the wounds aboard his wishfully named yacht Privacy, to an African hideaway, to a New York trist with his most recent mistress Rachel Uchitel, about whom the whole sorry saga unfolded when her trip to Melbourne was revealed.
Most of us would probably decide on a life of relative seclusion from here on, trying to make do on the remaining $US700 million of his estimated fortune, now that wife Elin has elected to take the money ($US$300 million) rather than play on.
But, as we have discovered both on and off the golf course, Tiger Woods is not like most of us. His strike rate on both counts is far better than mere mortals could possible hope to emulate.
According to a report by Gary D'Amato of the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel, Tiger will be back on the golf course sooner rather than later. D'Amato predicts it will be in late March, at the Arnold Palmer Invitational at Bay Hill Club in Florida.
His reasoning goes like this. Woods lives for golf. It's the reason for his being. Already, he's won 14 majors and the Jack Nicklaus record of 18 victories has always been, and remains, a massive driving force. The next of the majors is the US Masters at Augusta scheduled for April 8-11, and Woods will have every intention of lining up in the field. And, as he will want a lead-in tournament pre-Masters, pencil in the Bay Hill event a fortnight earlier.
Such is the status of the Masters, the galleries will be respectful and respond to Woods and all players for their golf alone. And the media corps will also be kind to Tiger, with accreditation forwarded only to journalists who cover golf on a regular basis and not, the assertion goes, the muck-raking gossip writers.
So, in effect, although Woods would be re-entering the public arena at the US Masters, he would, as has always been the case, be surrounded by minders in a cocoon protective of the outside world.
But how will he respond? Tiger Woods is renowned for his poker-faced demeanour, giving little away. When the photo of Woods emerged earlier this week portraying a bare-chested street-fighter image, an accompanying non-flattering article suggested he'd offended onlookers with a string of lewd profanities during an interview. That interview was dated 1997 when he was 21, and the writer suggested it was probably the last time the real Tiger Woods presented himself to the public.
Since then and until recently, he's been the consumate professional. A corporate businessman who's business is golf. Always with the right words to say at the right time.
So has it all been a sham, with Woods hiding behind a mask of sincerity for the betterment of his career? Now that the facade has been lifted, how will he present himself to the golfing public?
Will he be so stoic as to tee up and drive down the middle of the first as if nothing has happened, and rebuild his golf and corporate profile? Or will he, perhaps, feel unburdened somewhat, and return as the real Tiger Woods. That is, a great golfer, but a man who no longer feels the need to traverse the fairways as an infallible role model. With a blond or two in tow.
Perhaps a lemonade with John Daly would do the trick.
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
TEST CRICKET... SO THAT'S WHAT IT'S ALL ABOUT
The Test cricket world is a small one. Just a handful of Test-playing nations, and the rest of the world either hasn't heard of the game, or just doesn't get it.
You know that old yarn about trying to explain the peculiarity of the rules and intents of the game to Americans? The one about when a batsman's in until he's out and so on. All very confusing.
Test cricket is an acquired taste, a bit like vegemite. You have to grow up with it to appreciate it.
For the uninitiated but the well-intentioned, perhaps the Second Test between Australia and Pakistan in Sydney was a watershed moment. Ah, so that's what it's all about.
This was an incredible match, where the vagaries of the pitch and the weather combined to provide a third player in what unfolded into an enthralling contest. Finally, it was Australia who prevailed, thanks to a stirring 9th-wicket partnership between Mike Hussey and the unlikely Peter Siddle, a disciplined and, at times, brilliant performance in the field, and some unconvincing Pakistani tactics with the bat and ball.
Perhaps not for the genuine lovers, but for many general sports aficiandos, cricket is a strange game. Many of day, I have wondered what it is that wills grown men to spend five days in pursuit of, maybe a drawn result. Batting is one thrill, bowling another, maybe even fielding. But for fifty percent of the time, almost half of the 22 players are sitting around doing nothing but reflecting a what has just been, or nervously awaiting what's to come. Maybe for a full day or so, sitting in the viewing room.
For the younger players, the drive to achieve and the thrill of success is a major factor. But what about the 30-somethings playing at the next tier, in Australia's case Sheffield Shield? In front of maybe 100 people in cavenous arenas, like the Melbourne Cricket Ground. Players who realistically have no chance of advancing their careers beyond the status quo. What is it that drives them to turn up day after day, match after match and summer after summer?
Professionalism of the game has meant that cricket has become a lucrative career path for the elite, so that's one reason for the strange human behaviour outlined above. But that wasn't the case for the first 100 years of the sport when, to the contrary, cricket could often be an interference to genuine career paths.
No, the real reason is the unpredictability of the game, where the sum total of 22 individuals can be upturned by a lone flash of brilliance or defiance to determine an eventual outcome.
The very uniqueness of Test cricket means the doubts of its very being are erased, even once or twice a year, when matches like that at the SCG unfold the way they do.
You know that old yarn about trying to explain the peculiarity of the rules and intents of the game to Americans? The one about when a batsman's in until he's out and so on. All very confusing.
Test cricket is an acquired taste, a bit like vegemite. You have to grow up with it to appreciate it.
For the uninitiated but the well-intentioned, perhaps the Second Test between Australia and Pakistan in Sydney was a watershed moment. Ah, so that's what it's all about.
This was an incredible match, where the vagaries of the pitch and the weather combined to provide a third player in what unfolded into an enthralling contest. Finally, it was Australia who prevailed, thanks to a stirring 9th-wicket partnership between Mike Hussey and the unlikely Peter Siddle, a disciplined and, at times, brilliant performance in the field, and some unconvincing Pakistani tactics with the bat and ball.
Perhaps not for the genuine lovers, but for many general sports aficiandos, cricket is a strange game. Many of day, I have wondered what it is that wills grown men to spend five days in pursuit of, maybe a drawn result. Batting is one thrill, bowling another, maybe even fielding. But for fifty percent of the time, almost half of the 22 players are sitting around doing nothing but reflecting a what has just been, or nervously awaiting what's to come. Maybe for a full day or so, sitting in the viewing room.
For the younger players, the drive to achieve and the thrill of success is a major factor. But what about the 30-somethings playing at the next tier, in Australia's case Sheffield Shield? In front of maybe 100 people in cavenous arenas, like the Melbourne Cricket Ground. Players who realistically have no chance of advancing their careers beyond the status quo. What is it that drives them to turn up day after day, match after match and summer after summer?
Professionalism of the game has meant that cricket has become a lucrative career path for the elite, so that's one reason for the strange human behaviour outlined above. But that wasn't the case for the first 100 years of the sport when, to the contrary, cricket could often be an interference to genuine career paths.
No, the real reason is the unpredictability of the game, where the sum total of 22 individuals can be upturned by a lone flash of brilliance or defiance to determine an eventual outcome.
The very uniqueness of Test cricket means the doubts of its very being are erased, even once or twice a year, when matches like that at the SCG unfold the way they do.
Sunday, January 3, 2010
READY, SET, GO?
Concerns are being expressed over the preparedness of Delhi to host the Commonwealth Games in October.
Last week, a London newspaper reported England was set to withdraw its team after officials were left less than satisfied that adequate security measures would protect its athletes.
It's important to note that no official has substantiated the veracity of that report and, that to the contrary, Commonwealth Games organising committee officials have declared that the English delegation was, in fact, impressed with the progress being made when they attended a recent briefing.
There's nothing new about alarm bells ringing and questions being raised over the capacity of host cities to stage major international events, be it for security or deadline reasons. Remember Athens in 2004 where, against all odds, the Greeks completed their preparations in the nick of time? Like with about 3 hours to spare.
Remember, too, Beijing? Plenty of doubts there in the early days and bombings in China's north, but the Chinese excelled and had their city, venues and organisational structure in place well in advance. Buildings disappeared and highways, lined with mature growth trees, sprung up almost overnight as Beijing went on to host one of the most spectacular and successful Olympic Games of all time.
We're hearing the same concerns about South Africa and its stadiums for the FIFA World Cup, which is now just a few months away. Like Delhi, we're hearing about security fears from marginalised groups within their societies.
But the World Cup will go ahead in South Africa. And the Commonwealth Games will go ahead in Delhi. And the likelihood is that both will go off without incident. At least, we very much hope so.
Of course there are good reasons to worry about massive, high-profile public events of this nature. A successful strike by terrorists would be catastophic. And for that very reason, security measures are a major priority for organising committees.
In Delhi alone, an additional 8,000 specially trained police have been commandeered to patrol the hotels, athletes' village, venues and precincts for the duration of the Games. Their presence will be over-bearing.
That's just the way it is. My first Commonwealth Games was 24 years ago in Edinburgh, where security was not regarded as a necessity. Barely registered on the radar. But two years later, things were different.
In the weeks leading up to the 1988 Seoul Olympic Games, TV news bulletins carried graphic reports of fiery demonstrations by university protestors around the South Korean parliament buildings. Fears were raised about the safety of athletes, officials, journalists, dignitaries and everyone else travelling to Seoul for the Games.
Those fears proved to be unfounded as, on arrival, the military might of the country was out in force, creating an unpenetrable fortress around the city and venues. Soldiers armed with submachine guns greeted us daily as we went about our business.
That's not to say all major events are beyond the reach of lunatics, as was demonstrated with the bombing of Centennial Olympic Park at the Atlanta Olympics in 1996. But with each subsequent Games, security has become tighter in a concerted bid to foil attempted perpetrators.
Quite frankly, I worry more about international terrorism threats on a daily basis than I do at Olympics, Commonwealth Games or World Championship events. Osama Bin Laden's extremists showed what is possible by taking the controls of an aircraft over New York City in 2001. And next time you're in a crowded shopping centre or at a sports venue, consider the carnage that could occur should the minds of crazed people infiltrate.
And that's without the might of tactical response security services looking on.
Last week, a London newspaper reported England was set to withdraw its team after officials were left less than satisfied that adequate security measures would protect its athletes.
It's important to note that no official has substantiated the veracity of that report and, that to the contrary, Commonwealth Games organising committee officials have declared that the English delegation was, in fact, impressed with the progress being made when they attended a recent briefing.
There's nothing new about alarm bells ringing and questions being raised over the capacity of host cities to stage major international events, be it for security or deadline reasons. Remember Athens in 2004 where, against all odds, the Greeks completed their preparations in the nick of time? Like with about 3 hours to spare.
Remember, too, Beijing? Plenty of doubts there in the early days and bombings in China's north, but the Chinese excelled and had their city, venues and organisational structure in place well in advance. Buildings disappeared and highways, lined with mature growth trees, sprung up almost overnight as Beijing went on to host one of the most spectacular and successful Olympic Games of all time.
We're hearing the same concerns about South Africa and its stadiums for the FIFA World Cup, which is now just a few months away. Like Delhi, we're hearing about security fears from marginalised groups within their societies.
But the World Cup will go ahead in South Africa. And the Commonwealth Games will go ahead in Delhi. And the likelihood is that both will go off without incident. At least, we very much hope so.
Of course there are good reasons to worry about massive, high-profile public events of this nature. A successful strike by terrorists would be catastophic. And for that very reason, security measures are a major priority for organising committees.
In Delhi alone, an additional 8,000 specially trained police have been commandeered to patrol the hotels, athletes' village, venues and precincts for the duration of the Games. Their presence will be over-bearing.
That's just the way it is. My first Commonwealth Games was 24 years ago in Edinburgh, where security was not regarded as a necessity. Barely registered on the radar. But two years later, things were different.
In the weeks leading up to the 1988 Seoul Olympic Games, TV news bulletins carried graphic reports of fiery demonstrations by university protestors around the South Korean parliament buildings. Fears were raised about the safety of athletes, officials, journalists, dignitaries and everyone else travelling to Seoul for the Games.
Those fears proved to be unfounded as, on arrival, the military might of the country was out in force, creating an unpenetrable fortress around the city and venues. Soldiers armed with submachine guns greeted us daily as we went about our business.
That's not to say all major events are beyond the reach of lunatics, as was demonstrated with the bombing of Centennial Olympic Park at the Atlanta Olympics in 1996. But with each subsequent Games, security has become tighter in a concerted bid to foil attempted perpetrators.
Quite frankly, I worry more about international terrorism threats on a daily basis than I do at Olympics, Commonwealth Games or World Championship events. Osama Bin Laden's extremists showed what is possible by taking the controls of an aircraft over New York City in 2001. And next time you're in a crowded shopping centre or at a sports venue, consider the carnage that could occur should the minds of crazed people infiltrate.
And that's without the might of tactical response security services looking on.
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