March 2007

Sledging to Win

It had long been the tradition of Australian politicians to spend as much time hurling verbal abuse at one another as they do explaining their policies. There is also a long tradition in Australia generally of engaging in an abusive banter which many be affectionate teasing or deadly abuse. A foreigner has to listen hard to distinguish the affectionate use of 'bastard' from an intended insult. So it was not a break with tradition when the Australian cricket team adopted the tactic of sledging where on the field the Australian team either hurls insults at their opponents or engages in loud conversation with one another about the inadequacies of their opponents' bowler or batsman. So much time and effort is put into novel forms of abuse that sledging has become an integral part of the cricket team's game. I am left wondering whether the Australian cricket team wins because its members are extremely skilled cricketers or because they are so effective in demoralising the opposing team by constantly criticising and insulting them?

My father was a cricketer. When I was a child he would take me to cricket matches where I would see the game being played in almost complete silence. A batsman's well-place shot would receive a quiet round of clapping by members of both teams, while the watching crowd limited themselves to modest groans or cheers when a ball was dropped or caught. Dad was incensed when the English captain Jardine used body-line bowling where the bowler aimed the ball close to the batsman's body. Endangering the batsman simply was not cricket. Dad wanted to know that a team's win was a result of their cricketing skills.

In the 1970s there was a big change in the way sportspeople were trained. Flower Power had created a great interest in the Eastern philosophies. Some sportspeople read Eugen Herrigel's Zen and the Art of Archery and applied the knowledge therein to tennis. Zen teaches that, where the aim is to hit an approaching ball, we should not be constantly instructing ourselves how to stand and move. Instead we should be intensely focused on the present moment so that the flight of the ball and our own self in movement become one. All this was very new in the 1970s but now it is an essential part of what a trainer or life coach uses. In the March 2007 issue of Virgin Blue's in-flight magazine, professional corporate speaker and trainer Darren Baguley said, 'One of the most common characteristics of high performers is a deep ability to focus. When you're in flow [sic] you're truly present, absorbed in what you're doing and you're not aware of anything else.'

At the same time as Zen was changing how we play sport, therapists were taking up the cause of high self-esteem. Modesty and self-deprecation were out: self-confidence was in. Nowadays aspiring young sportspeople are taught to face the camera and tell us how good they are and how much better they intend to become. Darren Baguley said, 'We're constantly talking to ourselves and only one percent of our thoughts are positive, beneficial ones, the rest are negative. High performers are ruthless about not letting negative stuff in.'

Whenever we learn something we also learn its opposite. If the key to cricketing success is concentration and self-confidence, then one way of dealing with your opponent is to destroy his concentration and convince him that he is useless. Many of us as small children learned how to do this to our siblings, and at school we had the chance to hone our skills on our class-mates. Now it seems that these skills in destroying an opponent may be more important than learning to play cricket to the highest level.

A series of simple experiments could prove me wrong. Experiments have to be repeated to show that a single result was not just a one-off. There would need to be a series of cricket matches where there was absolutely no sledging. An appropriate clap or two for an outstanding stroke or catch would be allowed but there would be no derogatory comments of any kind at all. Perhaps from such experiments the Australian team would realise that sledging undermines their reputation for being the finest of cricketers.

Or it may be that the new leader of the opposition in the Federal Parliament will change the fashion for abusing one's opponents. Sitting in parliament, when the Prime Minister John Howard or other cabinet members subject him to invective, Kevin Rudd studies the papers on his desk or swivels in his chair to chat quietly to his colleagues. When he does rise to speak he does not return the abuse his opponents but instead he comments on current parliamentary business. Perhaps he knows that to resort to personal abuse is to show that you've lost the argument.