Why Sri Lanka Deserved To Win Yesterday's T20

If you're a cricket fan, you probably know of the events that took place in Melbourne yesterday between Sri Lanka and Australia. For those of you who aren't, however, let me recap.

Sri Lanka were playing Australia in their second and final T20 match at Melbourne. After winning their first T20 match, Sri Lanka had a chance of winning the T20 series and going home on a high note, especially after they lost the test series and drew the ODI series. After scoring a solid 164 in their allotted 20 overs, rain interrupted the Australian innings, forcing the game to be shortened to a Duckworth/Lewis adjusted total. Fast foward to the final over, and Australia needed 12 runs off the last 3 balls.

Now, here's where things got interesting.

vol fin_to_DivX_clip0 by Ianbishop

There's been quite an uproar about this whole incident from both sides, and quite frankly, almost all of them are wrong. An overwhelming majority of Sri Lankan supporters feel that we were fully within our rights to not only take time during the last delivery but to also retaliate in the way we did. Many cite the history of sledging done by Australian cricketers, especially against Sri Lankans, and justify using 'karma'. Then there are some who feel that we acted in an 'un-gentlemanly manner' and are embarrassed. I was very annoyed to hear the YES FM DJ Shanaka last night discuss the incident at length during his show, as he seemed to be one of those who thought we shouldn't be proud of this win, and that we had violated the "spirit of the game".

 

(He also says "mate" a lot, and that didn't help.)

 

I find all this mildly ridiculous. Who told us sport has to be civilised? The reason we have rules against misconduct is because in any contest of skill, be it boxing or backgammon, people get worked up. Expecting some form of natural decency in sport is like expecting the paparazzi to decline from publishing nude pictures of celebrities. Let's not forget that there was a time when the word 'sport' involved half naked, armed prisoners thrust into a ring with wild animals, fighting for their lives. You didn't have people walking away from the amphitheatre going "Oh well, that last decapitation was a bit much no? Bad manners to slice someones head off from left to right..."

 

I'm not saying we should allow games to descend into madness, but I'm all for allowing people to allow their emotions to get them going as long as it's within the rules of the game. If we expect players to behave under such a strict rule of conduct, up to the point where we don't allow them outbursts of anger or frustration, then we might as well stay at home and watch computer game simulations instead of the real thing.

Recently in the NBA there was a huge hue and cry during the Knicks and Celtics game, because a Celtics player (KG) allegedly insulted a Knicks player's wife during a game, which led to the Knicks player (Carmelo Anthony) not only losing his mind on the court, but also to waiting outside the Celtics team bus once the game was over to confront KG.

 

(Apparently he said his wife tasted like Honey Nut Cheerios, a claim he has since denied but that inevitably led to these t-shirts. I admit, I find it hilarious!)

 

But this is all irrelevant, because guess what - Carmelo took a series of ridiculously bad shots after that incident, made bad decisions, and was basically taken completely out of rhythm. Most importantly, the Celtics won.

 

The same applies here. If you're a professional athlete, with endorsements, a contract to play sport and have made this your livelihood, you better play with the right mixture of head and heart. If something as simple as delaying the game is going to irritate you to such an extent that you feel the need to push things along, perhaps you need some more time in the minor leagues. So what if the Sri Lankan players told him to eff off? Did he expect them to fall at his feet and immediately heed his words and bowl? Tempers flared, and for a change the Sri Lankans channeled their aggression at the opponent instead of themselves. A seasoned player would have recognised it for what it was - a simple, basic time wasting strategy aimed at unsettling the batsman. Hiding behind the vague and ambiguous "spirit of the game" banner will do you no favours, because at the end of the day contest has been designed to pick a winner, not the most gracious in defeat. 

 

Was it rude? Definitely; no one is denying that, and certainly Mahela's squeaky clean image will be tarnished. I'm sure he won't mind. Was it good for the sport? Perhaps not, but let's be honest; the cameras and mics don't catch everything that goes on during a game, be it cricket, basketball or any sport for that matter. Players say a lot of stuff in order to get under their opponent's skin. Michael Jordan, perhaps the greatest player of all time was known to be a an especially good (and by that I mean bad) trash talker. Do you think he'll be remembered for that or for the 6 championship rings? Exactly.

 

David Warner and the crew can say what they want about the win, as well as the Channel 9 commentators. The bottom line is that while it wasn't pretty, the Sri Lankan team did nothing wrong.  No, the Sri Lankan's didn't deserve to win this because of karma or some form of justice. They deserved to win because they played like adults in the face of adversity, for the first time in recent memory. They played with fortitude and emotion, and it was the Australians who, for the briefest of moments, wilted like daisies under the glare of the Melbourne lights and a few accented invectives.

 

Fastbreak

I miss running a fastbreak.

I miss that instant when you switch from defense to offense; that sudden burst of power that rushes through your body when you know the opponent has missed and you break for the opposite basket.

I miss that adrenaline rush when you realise that you have numbers, when it's a 2-on-1 or 3-on-2. Like sharks reacting to blood in the water.

I miss that feeling of cold calculation as you decide how to break down the defense; whether to pass to the open man, or to take it strong to the hoop. I miss watching the defenders frantically scamper to even the odds, but to no avail.

I miss the sound of the net, whipping the ball as it falls through.

I miss back-pedalling to defense, staring into the eyes of the opponents and saying, "You're turn".

---

Man I miss basketball. And I'm not just talking about watching it (damn you David Stern, end the lockout!); I miss experiencing it.

Because playing basketball was more than just a game, it was an experience.

Kobe Bryant Takes Everything Seriously

Kobe Bryant is an assassin.

Not the type flying over ancient Jerusalem in white robes, nor the bald guys with bar codes on their head and very red flimsy ties.

Just a cold-blooded assassin on the floor.





My respect for Kobe has lasted a long time, even if I only started 'liking' him recently. Despite his many run-ins with the media regarding his on-court spats and off-court lawsuits, the man comes back season after season, hits game-winner after game-winner after game-winner, all with that look of death plastered on his face.

Here's an excerpt from his article with GQ that I felt like sharing.

On being surrounded by the best of the best athletes at the Olympics: "I felt like Harry Potter going to Hogwarts."

On his relationship with Shaq: "The biggest mistake I made was responding to what he was saying about me. Once I responded, now that made it seem like I was part of that whole thing. It's like, Okay, these two are against each other. As opposed to just staying quiet, which is what I've been doing the last few years. Let him say what he needs to say."

And finally, this hilarious exchange on how Kobe's win-at-all-costs mind-set does carry over to the rest of his life:
"What people see on court is another side of me; it's not me. That dark side that's coming to get you — ha ha! I'm not losing this [expletive] game — that's not who I am. That's part of me. Off the court, I'm completely different."

In almost the same breath he admits that a simple game of Cranium with his wife can turn into guerrilla warfare.Cranium? The kids' board game? With Sensosketches and Cloodles?

He purses his lips, nods his head slowly: No joke.

Have a great weekend!


G

Cricket, Sex And Humour

It's not often that Cricket gets injected with humour, unlike many sports such as football and basketball. The NBA especially has some of the funniest in-game commentary, post-game analysis and is almost as fun as the game itself. Click here, here and here for some proof of what I mean.

However, I stumbled across this article on the Cricinfo Page 2 Section, and I just HAD to share it. Click here to read the original article. Enjoy!

---

Some years ago I remember reading that FIFA World Cup footballers were told by their coaches not to have sex before an important match. Apparently lack of action in bed focused their attention on the field, or sent the energy flowing to their feet, or some such sundried-tomato theory. Now cricketers, it appears, work in opposite ways. Gary Kirsten and Paddy Upton (apparently his real name) made headline news last week with their injunction to the Indian team to get some before a game, allegedly in order to raise their levels of testosterone.

The news that sex improves cricket, if true, may have come too late for some. Sadly we will never know whether Sir Donald Bradman, had he been a bad man, would have been rewarded with those elusive few fractions of a percentage point.

The theory is in its infancy, of course, but one surmises that if this works for the Indians, other teams will follow suit, though hopefully they will also heed the wise advice of Professor Tim Noakes, who pointed out that while a good bout of rumpy-pumpy might be beneficial if followed by a long, sound sleep, hanging around in bars till all hours trying to find a willing subject is likely to have an adverse effect on performance.

Watching my home team get eliminated from the ICC at the hands of England last night made me wonder whether this latest piece of cricket lore might be in any way to blame. Did the English take Upton and Kirsten's instructions to heart, and did following it give them an advantage? Someone with the pre-Raphaelite good looks of Stuart Broad or the tousled cuddliness of Jimmy Anderson wouldn't have had much of a problem finding a participant. Could this have enhanced their already not inconsiderable bowling skills? Collingwood and Onions might have had more difficulty, unless they told the girls their names were Smith and Jones, but even they put up a sound show.

Which brings me to my next question: does a team's collective performance rest on the cumulative level of satisfaction experienced by the individuals in a side? Does some sort of critical-mass theory come into play, where the amount of good sex had by one team is weighed against that had by the other?

If so, the South Africans may need to brush up on their chatting skills. Although they put up a good fight, particularly our gutsy captain with cramp, the early dismissal of some of our finest hitters makes me wonder, since we're pursuing this line of inquiry, whether these players neglected to get their greens, or whether their state of play is perhaps related to their prowess elsewhere. Is it the quality rather than the quantity of sex that makes a difference at the crease? Is a premature exit from the field indicative of anything other than bad light or good bowling by the other side? I hope not, because if this is in any way proved, it opens the door to a dirty-tricks campaign not seen since the incident of the laxative-laced lemon meringue pie.

Just imagine it: a flotilla of beautiful women sent by unscrupulous nations to lure their rivals to their doom - letting them down at a crucial moment, or worse, making them feel inadequate - a fate made all the more excruciating by the fact that these players had been encouraged by their superiors to commit such acts. It's an awful thought.

We have to hope that no self-respecting female cricket fan would stoop so low. There are limits to what one will do for one's national team, or there should be. That said, whoever the skilled damsels were who helped South Africa to their historic 438-for-9 win over Australia in 2006, please would they come back?

Sue de Groot is a Johannesburg-based journalist, columnist and television scriptwriter

All Heart, All Heart

You probably know by now that I am a bit of a sports junkie (hence the little NBA Playoffs Widget on the sidebar). Cricket, Formula1, Tennis - love them all, but nothing gets my blood pumping like basketball.

The thing about team sports, or any sport for that matter, is that it isn't just about winning or losing. As cliche as it may sound, it is about how you play the game. It would take the combined descriptive powers of Tom Clancy and Dan Brown to illustrate the sheer raw electricity of playing with a good team. "Well oiled machine", another cliche, comes to mind.


While teen movies potray the high school jock as a bit of a brain dead attention seeking neanderthal, I applaud kids that take part in sports. It would be impossible to find a more effective platform to teach the essentials of life.

How to work towards a goal.
How to make sacrifices.
How to work with others.
Communication skills.
How to think on the fly.
How to work according to a plan.
How to handle defeat.
How to handle victory.
How to trust your team mates.
How to shoulder responsibility.


They just don't teach this stuff in class.


However, you could preach technique, strategy, defence and hard work till the cows came home, but if you don't have heart - well, none of that matters.


Two things came to mind while I was writing this. One was an article written about Pat Riley, a legendary coach that led the Lakers to four NBA championships, and cemented them as one of the most dominant teams in basketball. Many years down the line, close to retirement, he finally had his new team, the Miami Heat, into the NBA Finals for the first time in franchise history.

Dwyane Wade and Gary Payton had gotten into it during an early round playoff game; someone taking the other’s shot. All of a sudden Pat Riley could see the 2006 postseason going the way of all his others since he had left the Showtime Lakers.

No matter how good, tough and disciplined he made the New York Knicks or these Miami Heat, they always fell short. What once seemed almost easy had become all but impossible.

He had fired his protégé in midseason and installed himself as coach again to make sure this opportunity, his last best chance at a title, wasn’t wasted. He couldn’t have petty stuff ruin it.

For all the fancy suits and slicked-back hair that he used to glamorize the coaching profession, Riley was still an old-school basketball soul out of working-class Schenectady, N.Y., and the University of Kentucky, the son of a minor-league baseball coach and a believer in every motivational ploy he could muster.

So right in the middle of the playoffs, he decided to have a big container built in the Heat locker room. The next game he pushed a wheel barrow full of little cards with pictures of the players’ families on one side and the motto “15 Strong” (as in 15 teammates) on the other. Each game, home and away, he’d bring out more cards to remind each player just what they were really playing for.

It was more than a bit trite, more than a bit hackneyed and it more than a bit worked. It worked so well, in fact, that here was Riley, standing over his pen in the final minutes before Game 6 of the NBA Finals against Dallas, his Heat just one game from a title.

All eyes on him in a silent locker room, he pulled out a set of rosary beads with five NBA championship rings hanging from it. Four were from his days coaching Magic Johnson’s Lakers. One was as a reserve player on Wilt Chamberlain’s.

With Shaq and D-Wade and Alonzo and the rest watching, Riley held the beads and rings up high and then threw them into the pen.

“I will give all five of those up to win this one,” he said.

The players, all those millionaires, went charging out the door like a high school team. Forty-eight minutes later, they returned as champions.

- By Dan Wetzel, Yahoo Sports

The other thing that came to mind was this scene from "Any Given Sunday".

So perhaps it IS just a game, and sometimes it IS just about winning and losing, but sometimes - just sometimes - it's all about heart.

Choose Your Illusion

Let me start off this post by apologising to any disgruntled Guns 'N' Roses fans that were misled by my blatant take on the iconic album "Use Your Illusion". Yes, all seven of you, I'm sorry. Now go cut your hair and grow up.


Just last week we all witnessed a part of history as the United States swore in their first African-American president. Sure, they sort of botched the whole oath taking bit, but the hard work of showing the world that any person irrespective of race or the colour of their skin can rise to any level in their society, even that of president, was done. Yes, in America, the land of opportunity, you can become anything. Surely, the world is becoming a better place.


You wish.


As much as we'd like to say that every person has equal rights and opportunities, unfortunately the truth of the matter is the world is just not built that way. You see, in this our new found utopia, appearances still do matter. How else can you explain Anna Kournikova's super stardom, despite her lack of playing talent? Or the fact that Danica Patrick was already famous and successful before she won her first race in three years last April, thanks mainly due to FHM and Sports Illustrated? Then there are the Jonas Brothers. I had the misfortune to see a live show of theirs on TV, and I can only assume the horde of screaming girls all had tiny headphones that were playing good music, because they certainly weren't getting it from the stage.


Yes, appearances matter. And really, is that such a bad thing?


Think about it for a moment. Anyone that has ever been on an air plane would have noticed that flight attendants are always tall, slim and generally good looking. This provides the perfect platform for the 'other' women to say "Hey! We fat people have rights too! How dare they only hire slim girls??" How dare they indeed! You go girl! Fight for your rights to flight!


But wait a minute. Are they really hiring them simply because their body types are appealing to men? Or is it because if you aren't slender, you wouldn't be able to manoeuvre yourself and the food cart up and down the aisle without rubbing up against the unsuspecting aisle passengers? Ooh, the short people are protesting too? Sure, let's see you put luggage in the overhead bins when you stand at a towering 5 foot zero!


The same goes for men as well. You don't seem me throwing a fit because I'm only 5 foot 9 inches and hence pretty much automatically disqualified from pursuing a career in basketball. But no, the protest people probably would raise the VERY valid point that they should have a league for vertically challenged basketball players too. It's only fair. I can just imagine the millions of self-respecting men that would want to sign up for this kiddies league. Boston Celtics? No - I'm a Boston Leprechaun!


Then of course there is the whole case of the media. Ah yes, the media. Whenever there is something wrong or evil or slightly bizarre happening in the world, chances are that in some way you can lay the blame on the media's door step. Yes, the treadmill adverts show only super fit models on them, but that's because they want to SELL them. If an overweight person sees an ad for a treadmill with another overweight person on it, they'll immediately realise how absolutely ludicrous they would look on it and never even think of exercise again! Yes, fashion models need to look pretty; their ultimate goal is to sell what they're wearing, which may be a bit hard if you look like a cross between Tina Turner's grandmother and Gollum. Yes, receptionists need to look pleasant to the eye because who wouldn't like to be received by a charming person with a good smile? It's not personal, it's just business.



At the end of the day, perhaps the biggest illusion is that we can be whatever we want to be. Sure, let's fight against racism, sexism and all other forms of cultural and religious biases. But let's not get lost along the way and try to elect a Muslim pope.

Friday's Bonus Post

It was just a few hours ago that I wrote my last entry, but I stumbled across this video and I just HAD to share it! It's from the show "Inside the NBA" which is a segment on TNT with Ernie Johnson and ex-NBA stars Kenny "The Jet" Smith and Sir Charles Barkley. One of the funniest shows in sports for sure, and this episode is especially hilarious!

You don't have to follow basketball to enjoy this! Have a great day!