The absolute misnomer—‘Sports “etiquette”

Last week, I mentioned, in passing, that cricket was a “gentleman’s game”. I’m sure most of you didn’t take my words as gospel, for even cricket is riddled with controversy. Whether it was a great English batsman remonstrating with the on-field umpire for adjudging him “out” (the spectators had come, specifically, to see him play, was his argument), or a lanky West Indian bowler barging into the standing umpire during his run-up, or whether it was a case of “monkey see, monkey do”, involving an Indian keeper and a Pakistani batsman, the modern game of cricket does not deserve it’s description. I may be wrong, but footballers, hockey players, and even cricketers forget their manners on the playing field. Do they spit at home? No. Do they point fingers at other players? No. Do they sledge ( quite often in an alien tongue)? No. Then why do they do it on the playing field? We have seen players look up to heaven before starting, we have seen them bow, or genuflect, before entering, but when the action begins, all sense of fair play seems to fade. And yet the world is engrossed with sporting action, and the spectators enjoy watching one team being ground into the dust. We are no better when we watch full-contact sport. My simple question is: “Why?”

Long, long before the introduction of protective equipment, the game of cricket became notorious for the intimidatory tactics used by one team. The England tour of Australia, in 1933, was very controversial, because of the “bodyline” tactic. English captain Jardine was determined to curb Australian batsman Don Bradman’s prolific scoring by employing bodyline—fast, head-high, intimidatory, leg-side-fortified bowling, that resulted in a plethora of injuries. The goal was achieved, however. Bradman’s average plummeted to the mid-50s, and England won the series 4-1. Interestingly, the Australian captain refused to use the same bodyline bowling, stating that one team was playing cricket, while the other was not.

Fast- forward to the Australian tour of South Africa in 2018. Times had changed, indeed! The third test was being played in Capetown. It was commentator Fanie de Villiers who spotted something fishy. He relayed his comments to the broadcasting team, who trained their cameras on Cameron Bancroft, an opening bat for Australia. The cameras caught him using a yellow- coloured paper on the surface of one side of the ball. “Roughing up” one side allows the red cherry to reverse swing prodigiously, and Bancroft, a junior member of the side was tasked with “ball-tampering”. When he noticed that the big screens in the stadium were focused on him, he panicked. He tried to hide the incriminating sand-paper in his trousers. The ploy was found out and Bancroft, captain Steve Smith, and vice-captain David Warner were suspended from all forms of the game for varying periods of time.

“Sandpapergate” was the lowest point that Australian cricket reached, but Smith and Warner managed to resurrect their careers, thanks to the IPL, to a large extent.

All is fair in love and war, they say. If modern cricket is not war, then I don’t know what is.

Let me know, what you think, dear Reader