The rise, rise of Captain Grumpy

Well, that didn’t quite go to plan did it? Chris Rogers didn’t stick around looking awkward for an aeon.

Shane Watson didn’t get the smartest of fifties and the dumbest of dismissals – only managing the second part of the equation.

Smith was set and then turned to jelly. And Bails failed despite the whole country’s fingers being crossed.

But while you could have wrung Watson’s neck for playing so far from his body in the last over of the session, and given Warner an upper cut for rooting such a promising start, it was surely Michael Clarke’s dismissal that was the most interesting – and perhaps, unfortunately, revelatory.

That is because people did see this coming.

In fact, it seemed common knowledge on Channel Nine that he’d struggle with the short ball – given he didn’t deal with it all that well in England three months ago.

Shane Warne blamed it on his back.

Mark Taylor used computer generated images to prove it was poor footwork, and others mentioned that no-one much loved it coming in at the ribs.

(And when you saw the pre-match highlights of Jeff Thomson, you could well understand why.)

Who knows, it could be a bit of all three, or something else entirely.

But it seems England have worked him out, and you just know there’ll be a short leg in, and Stuart Broad at the top of his mark every time Clarke comes out to bat for the rest of the series.

It all looked so simple.

Like they’ve cracked the code.

The best batsman in the world, give or take, and just like that he’s again been forced from the field meekly and for not much, by the England brains trust.

He looked dreadful fending that ball away – it never looks good when they take their eyes off it – and it was as disturbing a sight as watching Black Caviar left to canter home with the Four Horsemen surging up behind her.

It’s unthinkable that Clarke could have an Achilles heel, because these days he’s about as fundamental to our score as Bradman and Border were.

But speaking of Allan, I can’t help but see a common thread between that hard-nosed leader through the dark days of the eighties, and our current captain, also commanding a ship you wouldn’t choose to take to sea.

The term ‘Captain Grumpy’ was invented for AB.

And from memory I’d say the grumps first took hold around the time he was asked to win a World Cup with only half a glass of full-cream players.

Come the Ashes tour of 1985 and the belligerence had completely taken hold – we were down to not even sharing a beer with the opposition after the match.

And while that uncompromising attitude worked in the end – and could even be called the fundamental factor in the long period of success that followed – it’s telling that good sportsmanship was what was seen necessary to be jettisoned in order to get things back afloat.

When you think of the heroic Steve Waugh, who did so much to help Australian cricket reach the giddy heights it did, the first three things you think of are his Perfect Day, the red rag, and the ‘You just dropped the World Cup’ sledge.

Yes, sledging – the questionable tactic that many see as the very antithesis of good sportsmanship – was part and parcel of the Waugh era.

And there’s an argument that says it was born of the uncompromising ‘win at all costs’ philosophy forged in the hellfires of the Windies pace attack Border and co. faced in the 80s.

When the pressure comes on, it seems Australian leaders have a tendency to go straight to a siege mentality.

And right now, it’s disconcertingly common.

We’ve got the Prime Minister deciding that ‘no news is good news’ on boat arrivals.

We’ve got the until-recently-extremely-likeable captain of the Socceroos, Lucas Neill, somewhat bizarrely telling the Australian public what is and isn’t ‘acceptable’ behaviour. As if he’s the judge, and we’re the performers.

And now Michael Clarke is suddenly in similar territory.

As Phil Lutton noted in the Brisbane Times on Thursday, Clarke’s pre-match press conference was oddly terse and combative.

It seemed the former Mr Congeniality woke up that morning and thought the media (and the Australian public who were watching and reading his comments) were the enemy, rather than England.

As he very strangely fired back to a journalist, ‘I don’t care about the opposition’.

Having a look at the scoreboard at the end of the first day, as well as his personal contribution (and mode of dismissal), perhaps a little more care might have been due.

I appreciate he wants to play a dead bat, and keep as many secrets as he can from the opposition going into play the next day.

But the way of doing things, as ASIO are currently discovering, can be everything.

And in this instance, it seemed like misplaced hostility. What was he angry about? Was it the media circus around Ricky Ponting’s appraisal of some of his character flaws?

That his leadership credentials were questioned? Surely it wasn’t team-based, because Australia were favourites to win in Brisbane.

That it’s a personal issue – and nothing to do with the benefit of the team – certainly looks to be the case with Neill.

There is every reason for him to feel upbeat and his old smiling self – a new coach, a berth in the World Cup, even retaining the captaincy.

And yet he’s clearly livid – there is a fire in his eyes, a red mist, which seems totally out of place in the context, and out of step with the rest of the team.

Is it about Mark Bosnich calling for him to retire after the two six-nil losses?

Was he actually exposed in those games as badly as some say? Such aggressiveness and overreaction smacks of a man who knows he’s beaten, and fights like hell because he’s got nothing to lose.

He is raging against the dying of the light.

It is almost unthinkable that the same could be happening with Michael Clarke. But maybe his back really has gone.

Maybe England have him worked out and he knows it. Maybe he feels personally responsible for this team of tearaways he knows don’t have the class, composure or confidence to put one up the English the way we all wish they would.

When you know you’re lying, every question is a barb.

So you either go silent, or you let your resentment show at the ‘temerity’ of the question.

The problem is, they’re all fair enough questions. If you promise to stop the boats (without telling anyone how), you should expect the odd request for a progress report.

If you’re a defender in a team that let in 12 goals in two games, you should expect a ‘please explain’.

And if you’re skippering a side that’s lost the last three Ashes in a row, not to mention getting an absolute hiding in India, you should expect to be questioned about how you intend to turn it around.

These days, we idolise Allan Border for his hardline stance. We love that dogged determination, uncompromising commitment and overt aggression.

It feels Australian. But it’s time to question the Captain Grumpy persona, and how quickly it’s become the go-to position for any leader starting to flounder.

Short, truculent answers – and the contempt they’re a hallmark of – have no place in a press confidence.

Because while it’s easy to get frustrated with the media, and understandable to want to keep as much under your hat as you can, aggression directed at anyone but the opposition is distasteful in the extreme.

Lucas, Michael, Tony – remember, you’re representing us.

You’re there to make our lives better, not the other way around.

Now, can we get a smile for the cameras?