India vs New Zealand: Five stages of Black Caps fan struggling to get through Super Over Syndrome

There’s an old man sitting on the porch of a mental health facility. He stands up, mutters indecipherably to himself. Walks three paces. Turns around and mutters something else. He shuffles back and sits back down, shaking his head. I have a very real fear than that old man is me in the future, and the things that he was muttering were, “Guptill just needs two off the last ball” and “10 needed off two balls.” I feel like I’m afflicted with a very new condition – BSOS – Black Caps Super Over Syndrome. It’s very similar to SAKO (South African Knock Outs), a trauma based on losing World Cup knock-out matches or Arceebeism, a recurring delusion where people actually believe that Royal Challengers Bangalore will win the IPL this year. [caption id=“attachment_7976191” align=“alignnone” width=“825”] ‘Why has Tim Southee been given the ball for a Super Over, again?’. Getty[/caption] In the past six months, New Zealand have played in three Super Overs. New Zealand have also lost three Super Overs (I’m counting the tie as a functional loss). To put that in context, England have played (and won) three Super Overs in total, and no other team has played more than two. New Zealand have lost six and won just one. Super Overs are incredibly rare – there have only been 14 in all international matches. However, if you are a New Zealand fan, they are a recurring nightmare. On four separate occasions, New Zealand have scored 15 or more runs and still not won. Guernsey are the only other international side to lose after scoring more than 12. In the 55 Super Overs at domestic or international level, only one other time has a team scored more than 15 and won. New Zealand have done it twice. Kiwis are terrible at Super Overs. The syndrome is a grief based condition, and it comes in five stages. Stage I: Denial  For me that started out with: “We don’t play many Super Overs”, “It’s not really a pattern” and “Perhaps there’s match-fixing involved.” None of those held water. The Black Caps have played a Super Over more times in the past 12 years than Australia or Italy have changed prime ministers. The Kiwis lost almost all of them. If it was random, and not New Zealand being bad at Super Overs, there is only a six per cent chance that the Kiwis would win just one of seven. Match-fixing also seems unlikely. There are way too many variables to have been anything other than the Black Caps losing fair and square. Stage II: Anger “Tim Seifert should never play for New Zealand again”, “Why has Tim Southee been given the ball for a Super Over, again?”, “I can’t believe that I stayed up until midnight watching that” and “I wish I’d been watching Nadal vs Thiem instead.” These also could be moved past, to a degree. I can rationalise the decision to pick Seifert, even if it is not one I would have made myself. His keeping is second rate, and he particularly needs to work on his positioning when a throw comes in from the outfield. But it is not a terrible selection. Likewise picking Southee to bowl the final over. He is the senior bowler, and he matched up well against Rohit Sharma. Before the Super Over, Southee had bowled 47 balls to Sharma in T20 internationals. Sharma had only scored 51 runs off them, and been dismissed three times. Southee has been similarly dominant over Sharma in ODIs, 104 runs off 149 balls with five dismissals. If you could pick any bowler in the world to bowl to Rohit, Tim Southee would have been close to the top of the list. He probably would not be a the top anymore, however. Any thoughts of wishing I’d been watching the tennis evaporated at the thought of the matchup. I wouldn’t really want to watch two guys standing 5 metres behind the baseline and trying to see who can hit their forehands the hardest. Perhaps if it was Roger Federer vs Gael Monfils, it might have been a different story. Stage III: Bargaining “I don’t mind losing the T20s as long as we win the Tests”, “We got closer to beating India than most sides.” This stage is pathetic, and I should be ashamed of myself. But it’s also an important step to get through. Putting the series into some context historically and with a glance to the future is helpful to get through the other side of BSOS. Stage IV: Depression The enormity starts to sink in. We scored the same number of runs in the 20 overs, and yet, somehow, we lost. We were in a position from where we really shouldn’t have lost. And we did. There is nothing good about this loss. We have a small population, a small economic base and are in a bad time zone for cricket to be financially strong. We can’t afford to blow the few chances that we get to beat the big boys. One of the strengths of New Zealand in the past was that we stayed in the fight, and could win games that we never looked like we had a chance in. Now we are losing games we should be winning. Stage V: Acceptance “Cricket is only a game. It is not life and death”, “To be able to enjoy an exhilarating win, you have to experience a crushing loss”, “If everything went as expected, there would be no joy in watching” These all seem hollow plaudits at first, but eventually they start to help process the loss, and move on with life. There’s a degree to which sport has replaced warfare in a way to scratch the nationalistic/jingoistic itch that seems to exist in all human societies. We play games against each other now, rather than trying to capture villages or raze cities. When seen in that context, a loss in a Super Over really is not that bad. But my BSOS will rear its ugly head again the next time there’s a close ending. And the only way for it to truly go away is for the ledger to be evened up. A couple of Super Over victories would certainly help. Without those, there’s every chance that I might end up like that old man, muttering to myself something indecipherable about Tim Southee being given the ball.