Late summer in 1996 and I’m a university student, enjoying the last throes of my lazy life as a student. I’m sitting on the Adelaide Oval hill, watching Adam Gilchrist smacking an exhilarating century against South Australia in the Sheffield Shield final.
As exciting as that was, nothing could top the excitement I felt on the final day as South Australia (SA) clung on for a draw to clinch its first Sheffield Shield title in what seemed like an eon (it was 1981-82).
I was working at a restaurant, of sorts, at the time and I recall that I wouldn’t allow my bosses to open the kitchen until after the last fateful delivery, a big statement.
That was one of the most enjoyable shifts I ever completed at Fasta Pasta, Salisbury, knowing that SA had finally won the Shield.
Sadly, it was the only title joy the state experienced at any level of cricket since – that is until last Saturday night’s T20 Big Bash victory over New South Wales.
As I sat there, watching the concluding stages of this match, I felt only an inkling of the joy I had 15 years ago. It felt a little hollow. Good on you lads, I thought.
But I didn’t feel the same joy I did at SA winning the Shield. Sure I’m now older now, a lot more jaded and don’t have the time to invest in my state cricket side as I once did.
But I still have great affection for the South Australian cricket team.
Since its inception I have watched the growth of T20 with trepidation, worried about its impact on the longer version of the game. I find little energy for ODIs, they seem irrelevant since T20’s starburst.
But I’m still interested and love seeing the Red Caps out on the field when I can – despite some terrible performances in the intervening years. So, why did I feel only a small amount of joy at SA’s triumph? The Redbacks finally had some sting and something to sing about.
I think our captain, yes, another Victorian leading us to glory, ‘Max’ Klinger said it perfectly when he said, and I paraphrase, “this will be the last time this group of blokes play together”.
That was it, almost in a nutshell.
Next year, the team representing me will be a marketed outfit, forgoing all of the traditions of my South Australian heritage.
Don Bradman, Ian Chappell, Greg Chappell, Victor Richardson, Clem Hill and Clarrie Grimmett will never have represented this team that will be representing me. Neither will have David Hookes, Darren Lehmann, Peter Sleep or Ken Cunningham.
I won’t be alone in this feeling, as supporters across the nation will be facing this situation. Some may enjoy the new direction and, for the future of the game, I hope so.
I’ve only just become used to my team being called the Redbacks.
Having been privy to the 17 or so names that the marketers have thrown in the air, like so much confetti, for the Adelaide based team, I like the concept even less.
Will this team even wear red? How can it wear red, when the official side from this state also wears red?
Can you imagine a team representing the people of New South Wales not being called the Blues, or wearing sky blue? Or Victorians supporting a side not wearing the navy blue with that hated, if you’re not from the Garden State, Big V?
You can’t manufacture a tribal feel. You can’t manufacture tradition. However, that is what Cricket Australia is trying to do.
Like a luddite, I will return to my books by Cardus, Haigh and Robinson to reminisce, venturing out to watch Test cricket when I can next summer. I may even watch some ODIs, or venture the several hour drive to see South Australia play a game at the beautiful Adelaide Oval.
The Big Bash? Who knows… I’m sure I’ll get sucked into a social catch up with my mates. A few beers while a game of cricket is on the television.
But I won’t be there to watch the cricket. Sad, but true.
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