“Baseball has the great advantage over cricket of being sooner ended.” These were the words of the Irish playwright George Bernard Shaw, perhaps complimented by the actor Robin Williams, who said of the gentleman’s game, “Cricket is basically baseball on Valium.”
Both men and many other people have always tended to think Test cricket specifically, which is what they were referring to in this instance, is a silly game where after five days of play, it is still possible for there not to be a positive result for either side. Americans especially are fans of zero-plus contest, where there is a definite winner and a loser. As one famous American general said, the United States loves a winner.
Granted, Test cricket played badly is awful, comparable to an u-14 boys hockey side. While there is much effort, there is invariably the dust cloud that moves about the pitch (unless playing on astro) since they are clumped together. However, Test cricket played at the highest level between two strong sides produces a sport that, dare I say it, has claims to be greatest game on earth. The only other sport that I feel can match Test cricket for intensity and intrigue is Test rugby, specifically between the All Blacks and the Springboks since no other sides on earth can match this rivalry in skill and physical intensity.
That being said, comparing the two is a futile task, since they are so very different. The fact that the two sports together encompasses an entire sporting season in SA is an act of complimentary symmetry since they teach very different skills.
Though the English and Australians rave about the importance of the Ashes, only very recently did it become a contest. Since the 80s, Australia whipped the English home and away, and it was only since 2005 that the Three Lions actually tasted success in what was an excellent series of Test cricket. However, like the All Blacks, the Proteas have one true nemesis, and that is the nation that wears the Baggy Green. Ever since re-admission in 1991, Australia has been the yardstick by which every other Test nation measures itself. Their team from the mid-90s to the mid-2000s was so far ahead of the rest of the world, their status as the Test nation to beat in the professional era grew into biblical proportions.
I myself was unlucky, and lucky at the same time, to witness Adam Gilchrist’s 200 at the Wanderers just after the turn of the century. The Proteas bowling attack on that day was so impotent that even Neil (he must be awesome because he married Kerry McGregor) McKenzie was turning his arm over. During that Test, Goldfields were running a promotion that if any batsman could hit their billboard, which was positioned on the wooden grandstand to the right, they would earn themselves something like 200kg of gold. Nicky Boje was the poor soul that Gilchrist deliberately tried to send to Taiwan. He didn’t hit it, but by George, he came close.
This is perhaps why, in South African memories (apart from the 1999 Headingley incident that sent hundreds to the shrink’s couch), the Test series win in 2009/2010 in Australia was extra-special. Graeme Smith’s side became the first side to win in Aus for over a decade and a half, and in doing so had to beat an Australian side not at its best, but not willing to roll over and die either. It was tough and it was hard with some crazy deeds, such as chasing 400 in Perth, Duminy’s 166 along with Dale Steyn deciding that was the time to score his first Test 50 in Melbourne (along with picking up 10 wickets in the game) and lastly, Smith coming out to bat with a broken hand to attempt to draw the Sydney Test. Even the Aussies loved that, which says something of their approach to sport: never give an inch.
It is moments like these, wrapped in a contest where the moments aren’t important as such, but more the momentum. Those who say Test cricket can be boring are right: it can be, but when there’s a real tussle on, with England’s visit to Newlands last season also being in this category, a crowd can feel the shift in momentum. Also, when the bowler and batsman are engaged in a contest, the crowd and even the viewers, to a lesser extent, (being at the ground is always better) can feel the pressure. That is usually the moment when a guy like Robin Jackman, an excellent commentator, says that something is bound to happen.
Test cricket, while not as action packed as most if not all other sport, is a true test of a players character since it is 70% played in the mind. You can have a batsman or bowler with all the skill and talent in the world, but if they do not know how to apply themselves in the given situation, which is always liquid in shape, they will fail.
Test cricket, apart from being a game of physical endurance, also tests a player to the limit of their mind. What is the batsman/bowler going to do next? You never know (which makes the spot-fixing controversy even more appalling) and it is that unpredictability and tussle of wills that make Test cricket, to me at least, the greatest sport on earth.