New Zealand to host Australia on the moral high ground

What? What?! The New Zealand cricket team are going to… what? This unthinkable news, which I received courtesy of Fairfax’s Chris Barrett, has thrown me into greater shock than even were Australia to lose to them in the World Cup pool game this Saturday.

New Zealand are *gasp* not going to sledge us.

I honestly can’t think of a worse situation. It’s quite simply bad for sport.

Alright, alright, perhaps it’s not bad for sport, but it’s the sort of thing that throws into question all your faith in sport – in life even, and good versus evil.

New Zealand are the enemy, don’t they realise this? They’re the bad guys, the guys that despite whatever Machiavellian plans they may plot to dethrone us, in the end must succumb to the overpowering physical, mental and moral superiority of the Australian team. These are the rules.

I mean, just look at them. They wear black. Like bad guys. (And they used to don a criminally distasteful brown number that only people with not the slightest scruple could inflict on the public.) They’ve fielded Napoleonesque captains of the ilk of Stephen Fleming, who had the temerity to work out where our batsmen liked to hit it, and put fieldsmen there! And such bad sports are they, that they complain like schoolchildren when we employ intelligent, efficacious, and entirely legal tactics such as an underarm delivery.

And to be totally honest with you, as an Australian sport fan I kinda need the New Zealand team to be despicable. Sure, we have England, and there’s nothing quite so soul-restoring as beating them – but from time to time England has the ugly tendency to forget themselves and get one over us. And so every now and then we need to turn to an adversary we can count on to put up a sterling fight but eventually be crushed – so we can make sheep jokes and remind any Kiwi within cooee how we invented pavlova and reared Phar Lap. It is good for our national identity.

Then there’s – and I’ll only touch on this briefly – the All Blacks. Here is a team so heinous, so callous, so unsporting, that they pretty much refuse to let us win a game at all. In fact, they generally insist on winning all their games. They forget, these cheeky whippersnappers, that we are a far bigger nation than they, we were founded first, we have by far the larger population, and… and… just… that it’s unfair to win all the time.

New Zealand are our little brother, and they should bloody well remember it! And with every instance of those twin islands off Tasmania somewhere leading the way in the world of sport, and the world in general, the more it grates.

New Zealand have beaten Australia to the punch in all sorts of ways – from giving women the vote, to electing a female Prime Minister, to legalising gay marriage, to institutionalising inclusiveness, respect and equality with their indigenous people, to growing pinot noir.

And that was all okay (sort of), but this is too far now. Brendon McCullum and his crew are making it hard to hate them, or even disrespect them, or even… cough… dislike them.

To be honest, the start of the rot was when the Black Caps, involved in a Test match against Pakistan when Phil Hughes was felled, refused (or couldn’t manage) to celebrate their wickets when play was forced to resume. Seeing that footage made it almost impossible for even a rabid Australian fan not to warm to them in a way that was entirely uncomfortable.

Then there was their smashing of England the other day. Nothing brings an Aussie greater joy than seeing the Poms get thumped. And the way they’re playing! With McCullum’s ridiculous strokeplay, and the beautiful, controlled swing bowling of Tim Southee – it brings (unwanted) joy to the heart.

But this now – refusing to sledge – is too far. You are simply not allowed to be the better men! Period. I need the Australian cricket team to not only be the best in the world, but to play the game in the best spirit too – to always win fairly and squarely, to be gallant in pursuing victory, and gentlemanly in defeat. I need to believe that we are still a team that shakes hands and means it. Who respect their opposition, respect the game, and respect that their opponents are real people, not just roadblocks on the path to victory.

And truth be told, for a long time this sledging thing has made that hard. But for a long time, I’ve been able to mollify myself with the thought of the humour in it, the Australian wit of it – even though highlights such as ‘You just dropped the World Cup’ are indeed few and far between in what is surely a sea of mean-spiritedness.

I’ve even, despite myself, bought this whole ‘banter’ nonsense – which must surely be one of the best bits of doublespeak since the USA’s Patriot Act. As if it’s just a bit of friendly back and forth. As if trying to break down a man’s concentration by making more and more personal taunts is in any way in the spirit of the game. As if this has always been part of cricket. As if such personal attacks should be left on the pitch. As if this isn’t simply adult schoolyard bullying. As if it hasn’t been far too significant a factor in several Australian victories – including the infamous Sydney Test against India in 2008 – corrupting some of the proudest moments I’ve experienced as a fan in a way that no other Australian team ever has.

I’m a one-eyed Aussie if ever there was one – so much so that I could keep a straight face when Ricky Ponting had the gall to ask all the other cricketing nations to ‘take our word for it’ when we claimed a catch, when we had for years proven that we would stop at nothing to win.

Even then, when we were entirely morally bankrupt, even in the height of our own hypocrisy, I could still proudly call this team my own – and love it with a passion almost as great as the one for my country itself.

But to see New Zealand – our little upstart brother – take the moral highground, and be the bigger men – the better men – well, it’s calamitous. It’s worse than any kind of drubbing. Because at least when we get flogged by the All Blacks we can still hate them. And we can still be the Golden Boys, and continue to cast them in the role of black-hearted boogie men.

Brendon McCullum and his team have proven themselves to not only be great players, and an exceptional team, but outstanding men. They do their country great pride, and represent their nation with the honour, integrity and moral code it deserves.

And the worst of it all? If they do play like gentlemen this Saturday, and respect our team, and play fair and hard and disciplined without resorting to sledging, then it will be very hard for even a die-hard Australian fan like me not to cheer for them, instead of us.