“Training with the reserves” used to be the punishment footballers were subjected to after a particularly naughty misdemeanour. For David Warner and Steve Smith, currently restricted to mixing it with builders and butchers in grade cricket in Australia, their penance seems similar to Paul Pogba being loaned out to a Championship side for an entire season. Regardless of people’s opinion of the severity of the pair’s sanctions, the sight of two of the 21st century’s greatest cricketers playing on the empty outgrounds of Sydney is quite compelling. It is common, of course, for Test players from home and abroad to turn out in this famously unforgiving forum, and anyone from Abdul Qadir to Kevin Pietersen has done so. Yet grade cricket being utilised as the greatest naughty step in the history of sport is still a beguiling concept. Smith has largely knuckled down and got on with things unobtrusively. Warner, to the surprise of only the most easily alarmed, has been rather more conspicuous in his absence from top tier cricket. After making a century for Randwick-Petersham against St George last month, he jumped and punched the air as if he’d just hit the winning runs in the Ashes, much to the smirking amusement of everyone watching at the Coogee Oval. Runs are runs, and after his torrid year, it’s probably churlish to begrudge him joy at these fleeting moments of relief, but the impression given was not one of a man looking to serve his time in the shadows. Perhaps he was celebrating the fact Moeen Ali, when publicising his autobiography a couple of days earlier, had said he wouldn’t be revealing which Australian cricketer had called him “Osama bin Laden.” Who knows? [caption id=“attachment_5487651” align=“alignnone” width=“825”] File image of David Warner. Reuters[/caption] In another incident, Warner last week walked off the pitch against Western Suburbs because he had been sledged, telling the umpires rather solemnly that he was “removing myself from the game”. This may at first appear an irony akin to bear complaining about other woodland animals’ toilet habits, but the circumstances surrounding the matter were apparently a little more complex. The remark that he was “a disgrace” allegedly came from the brother of the late Phil Hughes, to whom Warner was incredibly close. The banned opener’s actions may still appear a little precious, but there is clearly no rule book for such a situation, however much chutzpah the once high priest - or “Reverend”, rather - of sledging might appear to have displayed. Hypocrisy doesn’t negate the right to sadness, even if Warner’s actions again drew attention at a time when he least needs it. Australia have now released their post-sandpaper gate “cultural review”, a description that has just the slightest whiff of Chairman Mao about it. The findings are actually quite good news for Warner and his co-cricket spirit pillagers, for the blame for the affair gets somewhat shifted upstairs to a selection of Cricket Australia administrators, with the organisation branded “arrogant” and “controlling”. Luckily for one of them, chairman David Peever, he was re-elected just before the review was released in a democratic sleight of hand of which the former Chinese communist leader may well have approved. He then fronted up to the press conference called to mark the report’s release, but went on to handle the media’s questions with the same aplomb Donald Trump handles an umbrella. It is no surprise he has now folded under pressure and stepped down." From afar, it is hard to understand and easy to mock the depth of feeling the cheating incident caused in Australia. It still appears almost a Princess Diana moment for the nation, when a populace from then prime minister Malcolm Turnbull to down became gripped by a catatonic sense of sporting grief. There are, though, many fine judges and observers of the game who concur that something had gone very wrong, and if Gideon Haigh feels compelled to write a book on the matter then talk of a “culture” problem probably has to be regarded as not merely aphoristic. Yet elements of the odd still buzz around the episode, with the insistence the players adopt a new ethical “pact” with the public, a stance nearly as bizarre as which George Bailey currently employs at the crease. A photo of a steely-faced Tim Paine with this pledge’s words superimposed over it was also released, and using the wholesome charms of the new Test captain and gimmicks such as this may on some level help “reconnect” with betrayed supporters. The problem is that come November, Australia will not be facing a camera for an earnest photo shoot. They will be facing Virat Kohli. Or rather, they will be listening to him. Kohli and the rest of the team he has, for better or worse, created in his own snarly, brilliant image will be all over Australia - goading them, mouthing at them, sending them off. Kohli will be a vegan in the world citadel of meat-eating, but it is Paine and Co’s moral pact that may end up being barbecued. Does anyone really expect that, after the animosity of the 2016-17 series between the teams, there will be no occasion when a home player loses their temper? Australian cricket might have tried to change its values, but Kohli hasn’t, and he will undoubtedly play on the extra pressure it puts the home side under: We recognise how lucky we are to play this great game. “You’re certainly lucky to be out here, Shaun” We respect the game and its traditions. “The tradition of keeping sandpaper in your underpants.” Compete with us. “That’s what we’re here for” Smile with us. “You’re 126-5, Tim.” Fight on with us. “Whatever” Dream with us. “Lol” What Kohli and his able deputies actually say to their hosts will doubtless be considerably wittier and more industrial, but the point is India will be under no obligation to be nice and they won’t be, knowing full well their opponents will be expected to conduct themselves with the sanctity of nuns. Even Paine might get to the stage where he wishes to offer his opponents a middle finger rather than one of his famed sporting handshakes. Not that India themselves are devoid of problems when it comes to personnel changes and administrative matters. This week Sourav Ganguly lambasted the state of the game in his nation, describing his experience on the Cricket Advisory Committee as “appalling”, and voicing concerns over how the Supreme Court-appointed Committee of Administrators were running the BCCI in general and over how they handled allegations of sexual harassment against CEO Rahul Johri in particular. [caption id=“attachment_5487661” align=“alignnone” width=“825”]
File image of MS Dhoni. Reuters[/caption] Whatever changes Australia make to their own administration it is unlikely they will be as sweeping as those adopted in India in light of the IPL corruption scandal of 2013. Administrative upheaval, if Ganguly’s complaints are to be believed, is not a panacea and Australian cricket will have scandals again, regardless of what happens in the next few months in terms of the board’s reorganisation. That is simply the indisputable and inevitable nature of sport. One on-field matter for India is beginning to become particularly thorny. Warner may have walked off the pitch of his own volition, but it is becoming increasingly unclear if MS Dhoni will be afforded such luxury of choice. Last week he was dropped from India’s T20 squad, although there were later confused mumblings suggesting he was rested. There is no doubt Kohli, as is natural, holds Dhoni in the highest regard, but he is also ruthless when it comes to pursuing his alpha vision for India, as Anil Kumble will testify. Rishabh Pant already struts around the pitch like he invented international cricket, which is not a criticism, and the situation whereby he plays as a specialist ODI batsmen to accommodate Dhoni as keeper will become increasingly untenable any time India’s former captain fails to build on one of his stodgy innings’ starts. Pant has shown in Tests he too, like Dhoni, can repair damage just as well as he can devastatingly inflict it and, while the present ODI keeper’s whip-bail hands remain as quick as ever, it is inconceivable Kohli will not be looking enviously towards the extra place that would be freed up were the young pretender take the gloves. If he displays the same lack of sentimentality Dhoni supposedly did in relation to the end of Gambhir and Yuvraj Singh’s international careers, it is more than likely India will go into next year’s World Cup without the captain who once lifted it. In that ferocious 2016-17 series between India and Australia, Smith had his notorious “brainfade” moment (when he looked to his balcony for guidance on whether to review an LBW), but that now looks like a fine piece of judgment in comparison to what he oversaw in South Africa, however implicitly. Both leaders, though, were at fault, if you believe the players’ behaviour was indeed faulty, but it is interesting to see how Kohli has been able to consolidate power in himself by largely staying as arrogant and controlling - Australian even - as ever. For Smith and his country these traits have now been officially cited as causing their downfall. Cricket, as ever, turns life on its head.
What Virat Kohli and his able deputies actually say to their hosts will doubtless be considerably wittier and more industrial, but the point is India will be under no obligation to be nice and they won’t be, knowing full well Australia will be expected to conduct themselves with the sanctity of nuns.
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