Ties in the rain: A history of the C-word

By Peter Church

In 1992, the Sydney rain came down on a gutsy SA cricket team’s bid to win the prestigious Cricket World Cup. When Brian McMillan and Dave Richardson returned to the centre, the revised target left them with 22 runs to score off 1 ball! Since that day, the Competition Curse has consistently hovered over the heads of the Proteas, earning them the unfortunate title of chokers.

True, in 1992 the Proteas were lucky to have made the final four at all. Thrust back into international cricket after years of isolation, Kepler Wessels’s team relied on rain interventions and some remarkable knocks by veteran Peter Kirsten to squeak through to a date with England in the semi-final. They played bravely, took their chances, and overall, the outcome was a satisfactory result.

But it was a different story at the World Cup in 1996. The Proteas were rampant. In Rawalpindi, Gary Kirsten scored 188 and Alan Donald nearly knocked the head off the UAE opening bat. The Proteas topped their pool, not raising a sweat or losing a single game in the run up to the quarterfinals. There, they met the Windies, who by contrast had barely won a game during the group stages. Pat Symcox was mysteriously preferred to Alan Donald in the final XI. Brian Lara scored 111 off 94 balls and the Proteas were on their way home with a lump in their throats.

Next time! Next time! 2000. Who will ever forget it? Lance Klusener single-handedly clubbing the Proteas to victory after victory. (Oops! A little slip against Zimbabwe. Remember Neil Johnson?) Then in the super sixes, poised to put Australia out of the Cup, Herschelle Gibbs’s premature celebration of Steve Waugh’s wicket set up a semi-final rematch. Who will forget that match, arguably the most exciting limited over cricket match ever played? I close my eyes and a sea of yellow Australian jerseys invades the pitch at Edgbaston. I listen and can still hear Alan Donald and Lance Klusener whistling: pack up your troubles in an old kit bag. A tied match, which sends the Proteas packing again!

2003. Polly’s the name and, as hosts, it’s our game! Trouble from the outset. Lara again. He scores 116 and the Windies win by 3 runs in the opening game at Newlands. Not such a bad thing, perhaps? The previous two campaigns were marred by not winning the games that counted. Then rain causes havoc against New Zealand and the Proteas lose again. Still, it’s all down to one game. Beat Sri Lanka and the Proteas steam into the Super Sixes with maximum points. Despite Marvin Attapatu’s century, the Proteas are on target. Then the rain threatens. No problem! Boucher’s got a scrap of paper with the Duckworth Lewis target. Murali bowls and Boucher blocks. After all, he’s following instructions. What he doesn’t know is that the mathematics is wrong, and the numbers represent the equivalent and not the winning run target. Another tie and the Proteas are out!

Four years later, Graeme Smith and Mickey Arthur promise brave cricket in the West Indies. They can afford to talk it up; the Proteas are seeded top in one-day cricket. It’s an unusual tournament. Herschelle Gibbs hits six sixes in one over off a hapless Daan van Bunge. Despite a hammering at the hands of Australia, the Proteas cruise into the Super 8. Then they stutter to a win over Sri Lanka and lose abjectly to Bangladesh and New Zealand. But, for a change, the Proteas win the games that count handsomely with powerful victories over the Windies and England to take 4th spot and a place in the semis. Oh-oh. Destiny calling. Australia tops the log. The semi-final sets up a much-vaunted replay of the Edgbaston tied match. Brave cricket becomes stupid cricket at the Beausejour Stadium in Saint Lucia. The match is over as a spectacle after the first few overs, South Africa reduced to 27-5. The normally impeccable Jacques Kallis having his stumps shattered while walking down the wicket to Glenn McGrath, no less, cast a death knell to the belief that impulsive cricket could prevail.

So I wasn’t altogether surprised about this year’s outcome in the ICC Champions Trophy. Few people will remember that we actually did win this trophy in Dhaka in 1998 and the picture of Hansie Cronje holding up the silverware is one for the Rare Moments treasury. But the next five ICC mini-world cups repeat the all too familiar stories of missed opportunities. We can complain about the formats: the only side we beat in this year’s tournament (and easily) played Australia in the final. We can complain about the toss: surely it’s easier to bat first at Centurion in a day-night game? This time around it wasn’t about the rain, or a tie, or Brian Lara. Maybe when we analyse all the reasons, we will conclude that the lottery chances of knock-out cricket don’t suit our fortunes. In the one-on-one, winner takes all stakes, the Proteas have consistently uh, err, uh, not won.

Peter Church is the author of a local thriller called Dark Video www.peterchurch.book.co.za or www.darkvideo.co.za