Why losing to England is the deepest cut of all

 

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My earliest memory of disliking England was in 1977, when I snuck home early from school to watch debutant David Hookes smash England skipper Tony Greig for five beautiful fours in a row in the Centenary Test.

Years later I heard the story of Greig getting lippy with the debutant during that over, to which Hookes replied “at least I’m an Australian playing for Australia.”

The South African Greig didn’t like what he heard any more than he liked getting dispatched to the boundary on five consecutive occasions.

Let me clarify. I don’t hate England. I lived in England for three years. I love the place, particularly London, which I believe is the coolest city in the world.

I also love the people. Sure they can get a little whingy, but can’t we all.

What I hate is when we lose to England at cricket. In fact, I want them to lose at everything. Australia doesn’t even have to be involved! I get as much satisfaction out of an English loss as I do an Aussie win.

When England didn’t qualify for the 1994 soccer world cup, I laughed. When England were dismissed for 51 at Sabina Park in February this year, I punched the air, called friends and had a celebratory drink.

I was almost as happy as I was in 1994 when they were dismissed in Trinidad for 46. I just wish I was alive in 1887 when they were bowled out for 45 at the SCG.

Who can remember when we beat the English football team 3-1 in a friendly at Upton Park? Beating them at cricket is one thing, but to beat them at football.

This was truly joyous.

At the Atlanta Olympics, Britain won one gold medal, coming 36th on the medal tally behind the likes of Ethiopa, Algeria and North Korea. I was living in England at the time and I couldn’t stop reveling in it.

Were these the greatest games ever?

On the other hand, to lose to England is the worst sporting emotion I can conjure.

When Johnny Wilkinson put through that drop goal in 2003, I could have exploded. When Sports Minister Kate Ellis lost the bet with her British counterpart after the Beijing games, I was deeply saddened.

When we lost The Ashes in 2005, I crawled into a hole and went looking for excuses. And I found them.

England won back The Ashes thanks to one ball. Ironically, that ball wasn’t delivered by Andrew Flintoff or any Englishman for that matter.

In fact, that ball wasn’t even moving.

We lost The Ashes thanks to a stationary ball. Glenn McGrath stepped on it during a warm up exercise, pulled ligaments in his ankle, and was ruled out.

We lost the Test by two runs. In the first Test McGrath had taken 9 for 82 and Australia won.

England won the fourth Test by three wickets. McGrath returned for the fifth Test, which was drawn. If it wasn’t for the rain, we probably would have leveled the series.

Well, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Whichever way you slice it or dice it, we want to keep The Ashes, and if we don’t, it will hurt.

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