What springs to mind when one mentions the Australian cricket team? If you were thinking about a tough, unrelenting, unemotional, ruthless side that batters, thrashes and utterly dominates the opposition into submission, you wouldn't be in the minority. Their success story for the last decade and more has been awesome and more than the mere number of victories, it is the manner in which they have been achieved that evokes such a fearsome yet dreary picture in our minds.
Scratch the surface, however, and you will find the one team in the world which actually has a tremendous sentiment for tradition and the occasion. India hangs on to its aging stars for a variety of reasons - a particular cricketer's rowdy fan following, the weight of another's statistics, the need to satisfy regional selection demands or simply a matter of not being called the villain who ended the career of so-and-so. Pakistan's cricket is always in shambles. Terrific talents rub shoulders with super-bloated egos, and political upheavals in the cricket board are never too far away. They have been and will always be an enigma.
Even England for that matter has broken the stereotype and divorced history and tradition. The slightest hint that a cricketer looks like international material and he will be off his county's regular roster and put on a central contract, ever ready to turn up in national colours. There are so many guys making their debuts and then disappearing after a handful of games that an England cap seems like no big deal. Twenty20 and its associated "innovations" were invented in England. Heck, that Mecca of cricket, Lord's, has the swankiest bit of modern architecture among cricket grounds.
That brings us to the topic of this post - Australia. Today I was watching the highlights of a rather drab (never mind the media hype about it being an exhilarating match) fifth day, one moment stood out. A leg spinner better known for his astronomical strike rate in the shortest format of the game induced a champion batsman 14 runs short of the world record of Test runs to scoop one to cover. What happened next? The huge bear of a cricketer broke into tears! THAT is what a first Test wicket meant to him. All the hard work of the last few years, all that waiting for the prized call-up to the Australian Test side, all that toil for five days in the cauldron of an Indian stadium - it all came down to this.
Does anyone remember Steve Waugh's last Test innings? Yes, it was That Sydney Test when India scored at will to post over 700. Waugh played the sort of innings he had played all his life - stoic, back-to-the-wall stuff. Does anyone remember what he wore on his head that day? A faded, torn old baggy green - not any old baggy green, but the cap he wore on his debut. Throughout his career, he was a non-nonsense batsman and a ruthless captain who would not be swayed by anything. Yet he wore his sentiment on his sleeve (rather, on his head) when the occasion demanded.
Speaking of Bangalore Tests, does anyone recall Michael Clarke's debut here? When on 97, he sent his helmet back to the dressing room and demanded that his (brand new) baggy green be brought out. He celebrated his special moment by raising aloft both bat and baggy green, just like dozens of great Aussies before him had done.
The Aussies are the ones who revere almost to the point of worship each member of a squad that was labelled as Invincible all of 60 years ago, in spite of later teams being far more "invincible". While Sachin Tendulkar is fanatically possessed in the minds of Indian fans, he has an equally large group of critics who label him as selfish and never having produced the goods when it mattered - and he is India's greatest cricketing icon. But you would never, ever find an Aussie having anything but the greatest reverence to Sir Don Bradman, and speaking ill of the Don is more taboo than the greatest sin.
What the Aussies have is an unadulterated passion for the game. It is true that players like Brett Lee and Michael Clarke are huge commercial brands back in their home country, but to them the game necessarily comes first. Should even their best cricketers, such as Ponting or Lee or Hayden, show even the slightest indication that the ad money means more to them than the baggy green, the board will not flinch in showing them the door. It's Passion or Bust. Each Australain cricketer has to spend years slugging it out in the domestic system and produce consistently brilliant performances to even get a look into the national squad. The ones who are in the national team have to produce that same level of consistency and performances at the world stage, or else there are half a dozen highly deserving guys to take each one's place.
Sadly, even a one-sport country like India cannot produce this level of professionalism. The Aussies show it in every sport, be it cricket, football, rugby, swimming or tennis - and mind you, they are quite successful in all these sports. India throws raw teenagers into the heat of Test cricket, and at the same time gives established domestic performers not more than one game to prove they can hack it at the highest level. Zonal "quotas" still form the basis of selection. Thank God no one has invoked the Constitution to demand a reservation policy for the squad.
The Aussies are not only champions when it comes to respecting and honouring tradition and history, but also champions in building upon that history to make some of their own. Beneath that rough, ruthless exterior of an Aussie cricketer is one hardworking, immensely talented sportsman whose deep regard for sentiment is his strength.
