Short Pitch: Lessons from World Series Cricket

The following excerpt is taken from page 81 of Gideon Haigh's wonderful book The Cricket War, and describes the Australian tour to England in 1977.

Generational problems in the team had been some time coming... nine players [in the back row of the team photograph] had a combined eighteen Tests between them.  Among the team's nominal seniors ... only the captain and vice-captain Chappell and Marsh were genuinely risk-averse selections: Walters had never succeeded in England, McCosker's jaw might not have healed, Thomson was a medical miracle, and none of Walker, O'Keeffe or Davis had been first-choice players a year earlier.  Premature Australian retirements in the preceding two years had divided the team before Packer's intercession.  As Ian Davis remembers: "There was literally no middle age in that side.  You had me and Hooksey, and Serj and Kim Hughes in our early twenties, and then all these other guys round thirty.  Unless you were a very strong personality, you were just in awe of them". 

A page later, Haigh continues regarding Greg Chappell's captaincy:

The captain pined for the do-it-yourself ethos of his brother's time: cricketers who didn't need to be told ... As his virtuoso skill proved insufficient to inspire, Chappell withdrew.  The senior players closed ranks around him, instinctively protective but inadvertently widening their distance from the ranks.  Everyone felt aggrieved, nobody felt responsible, individual isolation was universal.

Sound familiar?

It's fair to say that in the dozen years following the Centenary Test, Australian cricket struggled to reclaim anywhere near its best form.  The hard-bitten culture instilled by Chappell or Allan Border has been minimised by subsequent captains who - while the logical or best choice - didn't have either the same horses to choose from, nor the psychological skills to maximise their performance.

A case in point - would any Australian dare disappoint Chappell or Border?  Recently, we saw players "try" their captain and face the ramifications.  With the most effective Australian captains of old, expectations were communicated through personal relationship, rather than rules.  It is within this environment that players like Lillee, Thomson, Warne and McGrath flourished and under which Australians traditionally perform best.

Australian cricket took a decade to recover from such a fractured dressing room.  Similar stories abound of the 1989 Englishmen and the post-Richards West Indians; one wonders whether it will take Cricket Australia another decade to understand the value of powerful and incisive leadership - on and off the field.

My Favourite Cricketer: David Boon, by Jimi Stephens

In our continuing series "My Favourite Cricketer", World Cricket Watch's Jimi Stephens takes on the legend that is ... Boonie.

Allan Border has been taken. S.K Warne and Rahul Dravid are gone too. I thought about the Waugh brothers, and even the charismatic Carl Hooper was an early contender. But, delving back into my most formative of cricketing experiences, I found a short, roundish bloke with a killer moustache and looked no further. Here’s why……

Boxing Day Test, 1994. I was 11 years old and sitting with my older cousin and my grandma in the members reserve at the MCG. All morning I’d been swinging around in my seat, to see if the window to the Australian dressing room might open enough for me to catch a glance of Mark Waugh or Flemmo or anyone. But, nothing.

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That year we were sitting as close as you could to the dressing room, just in the row beyond the chained off area where I think close friends, family and partners got first dibs. We’d won the first test in Brisbane and this was day 3 of the match. Our seats on the opening day were no-where-near this close so my autograph book was halfway out of its holster. Clink. The door opened to reveal Boony in all his glory: singlet on, massive gold chains vying for priority over his impressive tufts of chest hair, legs resting up on the window ledge, pads on and, in his right hand, something I was not expecting; a ciggie. David Boon, my idol, was smashing a dart! In fact, in the time I watched him, he must have smashed about 5! I couldn’t take my eyes off this spectacle. I think Tubby Taylor hit a four which my Grandma applauded but I couldn’t stop watching as Boony sucked in hard on dart after dart, blowing the smoke out into the member’s reserve. Then it happened. He saw me watching. I waved. He did not wave back. Instead he took an extra long drag on his fag, and blew a smoke ring in my direction.

In retrospect, I found Boon’s smoking endearing – ala Bob Simpson talking about his addiction on an Australian current affairs program, Today Tonight. However, my idolisation of the plucky Tasmainan started well before that. I just loved the way he could hold a pose, bat raised as high as he could, having just whipped one backward of square. Other players instintcs had them setting off soon after making contact with the ball but Boon was content to ‘save his legs’ and trust his power and placement. Whilst I was never that strong on my legs, I did buy a Gray Nicholls Ultimate 750 Limited Edition and after very careful photo analysis, positioned sports tape at the neck of the bat exactly as David Boon had it. In later years, I did buy into the folklore of Boon too, the 52 beers on the flight to England being the obvious example here. For those interested, Dean Jones’ account of this Australian Folk Tale is worth tracking down. However I do not advise trying to replicate this effort. Sinking a shitload off piss is a skill I have, but I am barely even able to get significant bum fluff on my face at 27 years of age and I reckon you need a handlebar to even attempt that!

 ain’t gonna list his stats here, not becuase I’m lazy but, well, you’re on the net right now so look ‘em yourslef. Suffice to say though that for his time, Boon’s test average was very bloody good, second only to Alan Border when Boon called it a day. His one day record is impressive also, maybe most notable for his best afield efforts in the 1987 World Cup final against the Poms at Eden Gardens and in the dead rubber against the Windies at the MCG in the 1992 World Cup. He wasn’t a technically brilliant player and he wasn’t elegant either. He was however, a belligerent upper order batsmen who was called upon ad nauseum to steer Australia through batting collapses and take the shine off the new pill. I can actually remember (at three years old!) first hearing about him from my Grandmother who had listened to the tied test in Chennai in 1986 and was talking to me about Dean Jones’ outrageous effort that saw him hospitalised after spending a total of five hindred and two miuntes at the crease. I had only one question for Gran “Who was up the other end?”

Getting back to Boxing Day in ’94 though: Boon had a spectacular match. He made 134 in the second innings which was a very nice knock to watch and he moved like Dhal Sim from Street Fighter to catch a ball at short leg to give Shane Warne his hat-trick. 

But I remember Boon from this match because he blew a smoke ring at me.  Probably not the best thing to do to an 11 year old kid but hey, it’s not like I copied everything he did……now where’s my lighter?

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Tim Nielsen resigns, righting a four year-old wrong

Tim Nielsen has resigned as coach of the Australian cricket team. About bloody time, too.

After co-conspirator Hilditch, Tim Nielsen will be the most unlamented sacking in Australian cricket history. It's not that he's a bad coach - you don't get to his position without being capable - it's just that as former coach John Buchanan's right-hand man, he wasn't a sufficient enough change of message from his predecessor.

Under his watch, Australian national fielding standards declined from "world's-best" to the equally hyphenable "also-ran". They also rotated bowlers - in form or out - and attempted to dominate almost every situation, apparently unaware that circumstances had changed. Throughout his reign, Australia was hardly ever in position to be the aggressor.

It was, and three years later still is, time for a change.

courtesy: guardian.co.uk

Nielsen's appointment was perhaps the most alarming symptom of the malaise that overtook Cricket Australia last decade. On John Buchanan's retirement, rather than step out of their comfort zone - which they still refuse to do now - and appoint the best person for the job, they rewarded the loyal company man.

Rewarding the foot soldier can have it's advantages, but not in this situation. Buchanan retired saying he had taken Australia as far as he could. When a successful coach retires after a lengthy tenure, often a change of message (or it's delivery) is required as players have become accustomed to their former coach's motivation strategies. This change is hardly likely to come from a 2IC.

A close-to-home example is easy to point out. In 1996 the old ACB replaced successful coach Bob Simpson, who had with Allan Border pulled Australian cricket up from the depths, with Geoff Marsh. Simpson had no wish to leave, but the board felt the players needed to hear a change of voice. It turns out their suspicions were correct.

Steve Waugh was instrumental in Buchanan's installation as Australia coach, knowing he had the requisite technical knowledge and breadth of vision to help even the most established Australian players. Nielsen lacked both the technical knowledge and panoramic point of view. As an assistant coach, it was often his role liaise between players and coach. When moving from such a position to head coach, the distance between coach and players needed for objectivity and evaluation decreases.

This is one of the reasons why Nielsen's assistants, Justin Langer and Steve Rixon, should almost immediately be discounted as possibilities for the open position. Rixon in particular has form, coaching successful NSW sides as far back as the late eighties, but the team needs differing methods and better communication. It would be a logical to assume Langer especially is too close to the players.

The best replacement for Nielsen may already be within the system. Western Australia coach Tom Moody's style is a combination of discipline and evenness which proved successful when helming Sri Lanka. Even when his powers had faded as a player, his leadership was integral in Australia winning the '99 World Cup; he has coaching and captaincy experience in England, the subcontinent and at home. Should he decide to apply, he would be the logical frontrunner.

The Argus report continues to leave a bloody trail of carnage through the offices of Australian cricket. Whether this is for better or worse, no-one can yet tell. But certainly, it is wise to rid the setup of unpopular and underperforming elements. All Cricket Australia needs to do now is ensure they appoint the best coach for the role.

Giving it a red hot go

by Balanced Sports columnist Ben Roberts

ESPN.com recently ran a story about Boston Red Sox third baseman Kevin Youklis, who they described as the definition of the 'blue collar athlete'. Youklis is a hitter not taken to niceties, he has a job to do every game and will give his all every time he steps up to the plate.¹ Working hard to make the pitcher work even harder and get himself on base, Youklis may not put up the performances that win awards, but he can be relied upon to get himself on base a high proportion of the time. Getting players on base is something my own San Francisco Giants appear destined to continue to fail at while they remain dedicated to sticking with the highly paid and under-motivated.

Despite being an Australian and therefore morally (and spiritually) bound to never allow Americanisms to enter my vernacular, I have to defer to Uncle Sam in this instance as I reckon their word for the type of player Youklis is just about perfect. Youklis is a 'Gamer'. A gamer relishes competition and the heat of the moment when they need to be relied upon. They 'have a crack' or give it a 'red hot go' always and this is their strength.

On one of the few televised games of Major League Baseball that enter the Australian airwaves I was able to watch Youklis and his Red Sox play against the New York Yankees that included another player who works hard at bat and maybe (at least to my untrained eye) meets the definition of a gamer, Nick Swisher.² Swisher like Youklis makes the pitchers work to his strengths and does not tire of doing the un-dramatic such as drawing walks.

I remember watching the NBA during the Michael Jordan era and being surprised that among the flashy skills of players like Jordan, Karl Malone, Scottie Pippen, or Tim Hardaway here was this white guy³ making all-star teams and holding his own. This white guy was Chris Mullin, and he was a gamer too. Mullin's gamer effort was as much about his work on the practice court as it was in game play. In honouring his elevation to the Hall of Fame Grantland.com called Mullin a dying breed, a rarity not blessed with natural athleticism who made the grade. Mullins drive to succeed and develop his skills took him to the top of his sport.

Jumping across to the most notable of the world games leagues the EPL and we find gamers there too. Unlucky not to secure all the major individual awards for last years Premier League, Scott Parker proved to be a larger than life character for West Ham as they fought to retain their place in the top flight. Parker routinely was the only reason why the Hammers managed to secure points throughout the season because he was always up for the fight and was willing to grab his team mates by the scruff of the neck to do likewise. Unfortunately it was all in vain⁴.

Newcastle's⁵ Joey Barton is another player always up for the fight, though he is an example of erring on the side of going over the top, and probably the aging Phil Neville. Both players were potential targets of both North London clubs who need hardening up this year if they stand any chance of finishing above 5^th and 6^th in the league.

You may begin to get the feeling that the definition of a gamer is restricted short on natural talent or natural athleticism but gets the most out of what they do have. This is not true. Moving to our third continent we find a phenomenal gamer who has both the huge amount of natural talent, and athletic capability.

Chris Judd in 2011 continues to prove that he is the best player Australian football has currently, and will finish up at the very least in the top ten of all time. All followers know how amazing his skills are and his athleticism and strength are amazing, but his insatiable desire for the contest is what drags him to be a cut above the rest. West Coast won a premiership because of him, and Carlton stand a chance of winning one in the near future for the same reason. Take him out of either team and they may still be a chance, but I reckon he almost doubles the chance of any team he plays in.

Looking back into history you find Michael Jordan, the greatest on the hardwood of all time and a serious gamer. Take the opportunity and watch his 'flu game' in the 1997 championship series against Utah. The only reason the Chicago Bulls won that game was Michael Jordan. Illness stripped him of his usually immense physical capacity, yet his drive to win dragged his team over the line. Even the greatest of skills and athleticism can get taken to the next level.

I love watching these players in any sport. They are the reason why we as spectators enjoy the contest. I wrote recently about my favourite cricketer of all time Allan Border, without him I would not have witnessed the great success of the Australian cricket team.

We owe these gamers the most respect in the games they play.

1 First time in my life I have ever used this phrase literally rather than figuratively.

2 Previously only notable to me for appearing in an episode of 'How I Met Your Mother'.

3 With a buzz-cut tribute to Dolph Lundgren.

4 Trouble is that no matter how great Parker was, Avram Grant was more than equally bad.

5 Just.

My Favourite Cricketer: Curtly Ambrose - Matthew Wood

As we involve noted cricket writers and bloggers on our topic "My Favourite Cricketer" - the brainchild of Balanced Sports' Matthew Wood - sees the series creator delve into his happy childhood memories to pay homage to the baddest, coolest fast bowler in recent memory: Curtly Elconn Lynwall Ambrose.

As cricket fans, we favour iconoclasts and champions. Every player in this series is likely to fall into one category or the other. The players who appeal most express a certain freedom - of emotion, thought, preparation, leadership or skill. Our game, more than any other, creates artistry - in batsmanship, bowling, fielding and captaincy. That liberty allows one to create results from nothing a la Shane Warne, to redefine the game as Jardine or one's own game like Lillee; to propagate evolution by force of will alone in the mould of Allan Border or simply just to be oneself, enormous moustache and all - Merv Hughes.

I spent months considering who actually is my favourite cricketer; narrowing the list of potentials proving more difficult than anticipated. Certain players I respect for their skill and resulting achievement: Sir Donald Bradman, Warne or McGrath. The Chappell brothers remain straight-shooters, one an iconoclast and the other a fractured savant. My childhood favourite? Merv Hughes. Stylistically, no-one comes within galaxies of Sir Viv Richards, while the greatest moment of cricket perspective was Keith Miller's "Pressure is a Messerschmitt up your arse, not playing cricket".

Curtly Elconn Lynwall Ambrose didn't redefine fast bowling, but re-imagined it. The last in almost a half-century of the truly great West Indian pacemen, he not only picked up the legacy of forbears Hall, Griffith, Roberts, Holding, Croft, Garner and Marshall but added his own chapter to cricket's most exciting history. His stature - 6'7 - led to constant, inevitable and overstated references to a basketball career, but he shouldn't be remembered for that length but for it's deadly effect when combined with his natural talent and work ethic.

Fast strides to the wicket turned into a quickish amble as the years passed, but Ambrose casually delivered the ball from over 9 feet high at extreme pace for twelve years at Test level. Instead of losing accuracy due to his height, he turned that divine gift into a stock ball which reared off a good length: he had the accuracy of McGrath, the malice of Holding, the movement of Marshall and the faster changeup of the killer Roberts. He had everything any fast bowler could want, including a murderous yorker and a bouncer so evil it hissed "Luke, I am your father" as the ball passed their throat.

Loose-jointed and almost outrageously fast, he was the evolutionary Joel Garner. His languid appearance, nevermore on show than when bowing to Bay 13, often gave the impression of coasting. He could afford to celebrate victories as they kept him going - cricket never meant that much to him. Unlike some others, he appeared a to have a life outside cricket and now combines with former captain and fellow Antiguan Richie Richardson in a reggae outfit.

After years of competition between bowlers to get into the West Indian side, the destiny of their pace attack rested with Curtly, who became the sole embodiment of the Caribbean fast bowling progression. He was criticised more often for coasting than he actually did. Much of that may have come from poor use as necessity harnessed him into the role of combo bowler, stock-plus-strike. Perhaps fittingly his only competition for the title of "best paceman" over the past twenty years is McGrath, who successfully combined those fraught roles. The large man was human and prone to emotion which focused his mind on delivering missiles that seemed to come from orbit.

That human side came out in his final assault on Australian shores in 1996-97. Down on form and luck, he announced before the third Test in Melbourne he would take ten wickets and Brian Lara would score a century. Lara couldn't fulfill his end, but Ambrose performed magnificently, taking 9 for 72. So good - and gracious - was he that no-one begrudged his success and most were left disappointed when he couldn't quite manage the ten-fer. After missing the next match through injury (unsurprisingly, the West Indians lost), he returned for Perth and in a 10-wicket triumph took 7/93 - Curtly owned Perth.

His Test averages speak for themselves: 405 Test wickets at 20.99 and an Economy rate of 2.3. He has the lowest economy rate of any fast bowler with over 200 wickets, and is fifth overall. The average stands the third best of any of the greats: .05 behind Marshall and .02 behind his prototype Garner.

Ambrose's most famous moments came against the Australians - he toured Australia three times - in 1988-89 as a rookie , in 92-93 as the best bowler in the world and in 1996-97 as a fading force still commanding ultimate respect.

The most revered spell of fast bowling in recent Australian memory, talked about as the greatest of follies of all time occurred in a One-Day match in Brisbane in 1993. The recently-reinstated Dean Jones asked him to remove his white wristband. Instantly, commentators, spectators and the West Indian fielders knew he had made a mistake and Curtly told him so - in words and actions. He unleashed the most unholy spell of fast bowling, claiming 5/32 and running himself into an seeing-is-believing stretch of form climaxing when he ensured the retention of the Sir Frank Worrell trophy with a villainous spell of 7/1 at the WACA.

His 1995 stouch with Steve Waugh at Trinidad turned Bankstown's finest from "good" to "great" and was the last great tribulation for Waugh before he could claim to be amongst the all-timers. Curtly Ambrose, so long a man-mountain of fast bowlers, was Waugh's - and with Lara, Australia's - Everest. The best of the 1980s had to succumb to the best of the 1990s. West Indian cricket has not since been the same.

It's not fair - and very wrong - that Curtly Ambrose is probably not considered at the same level as Lillee, Hall, Marshall and McGrath. He was every bit as talented and driven as those bowlers yet for the majority of his career was supported by a gimpy Ian Bishop and the corpse of Courtney Walsh. After he became the attack leader, he never had the support of a Thomson, Warne or Gillespie, meaning he had to know when to attack and when to defend. The freedom to go all out was denied him for the last seven years of his career. His pacy Islander ancestors could rely on the guy at the other end joining you in ritually strangling the batsmen. Curtly could not.

Don't tell me Curtly Ambrose wasn't amongst the greats. Mike Atherton and Steve Waugh certainly think he was. His combination of lethal pace, pinpoint accuracy and devastating "troat balls". Of all the players I remember seeing, the one of whom I have the fondest memories for who he was, was Curtley Ambrose.

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My Favourite Cricketer: Allan Border by Ben Roberts.

In the second of our series "My Favourite Cricketer", co-hosted by World Cricket Watch and Balanced Sports, is by Ben Roberts and features the man who single-handedly dragged Australian cricket from the doldrums, Allan Border.

Upon request I have journeyed deep into my memory to come to the point of selecting Allan Border as my favourite cricketer of all time. At the time that his career concluded I was just out of primary school and I am sure he was not the player that I aspired to be. My history however has the years rolling by with me continuing to turn over who my favourite player was at any one point, and likewise having been asked I have settled (with surprising ease) on Border as the one most worthy of my admiration.

My undoubted first love was Craig McDermott, now Australia's bowling coach. He was the fast bowler leading Australia's attack at the time I remember first watching cricket on TV and all I wanted to do was bowl fast. In hindsight it is a strange choice for two reasons. One, these formative memories have Sir Vivian Richards pasting McDermott and others all around Australia on his final visit to our shores; and two, my own cricket career finished with me an unspectacular opening batsman rather than a feared fast bowler.

But I did not stop there with the fast men, Glenn McGrath then followed in my affections. Maybe he carried to further height a similar style to McDermott, consistency and fire being in the right balance. Today, I remain enamoured with a fast bowler out of the current crop. Without a doubt it is Peter Siddle whom I love to watch play cricket most. But this is more about his overall attitude to the game than skills. As an adult now I have perspective on how misguided we can be that cricket is more than a game. Siddle is a breath of fresh air, he just loves playing the game, running in and bowling fast.

I have seen all the great modern Australian batsman score centuries live but none really stick in my memory as particularly inspiring. Of batsmen however, Steve Waugh during the 1989 Ashes was a favourite based purely on making the first centuries of his career with a Gunn and Moore bat (my first bat was a G&M also). I will also go to my grave claiming Mark Taylor is Australia's greatest captain ever.

But it is not the statistics or great memories that leave Border sitting atop my list. He was not the most classically gifted batsman as Greg Chappell was, nor could he play an innings of absolute power as Adam Gilchrist became known for. Yet Border climbed to the top of the batting world at a time where pitches varied wildly and each nation boasted an array of world-class bowling talent. He did so through willpower and technique alone. What elevates him above all others is who he was in Australian cricket history and what he means now to the historical landscape of Australian cricket. Allan Robert Border, no matter what position they found themselves in, represented Australian Cricket.

 
Getting his chance while the World Series players were out of the way, he quickly became a worthy First XI selection in a team of Second XI talent. Within only a few years he was a constant and a leader in a team that was as volatile off the field as it was on. He was a controlled player that underpinned the flashiness surrounding him.

When Australian cricket was at its lowest ebb, as a captain departed in tears and the core of the great side left as one, there Border remained, though still in his twenties, a man among the boys. He took on a role that today's leadership experts and sports psychologists would probably steer his type away from. In fact Border himself did not appear assured in accepting the role, being aware of his limitations in areas beyond batting.

He rolled through series after series of being battered by a West Indian pace attack that was as unforgiving as it was fast. If you look at his career he nearly outlasted three generations of these fearsome bowlers and of the greats, only Curtly Ambrose and Courtney Walsh continued beyond him. Imagine turning up to your workplace day after day and being confronted by the message 'try as you might, you will fail today': This was Australian cricket in the 1980s.

 
Minimal footage exists of his 1984 test in Port of Spain where he dug in for 98* and 100*, but newspaper descriptions of it are enough to fire my enthusiasm for tough test cricket. West Indian wicketkeeper Jeff Dujon has gone on record saying it was the saddest thing he saw in his cricket career that AB didn't get a hundred in each innings. He was unforgiving in nature also. Less than established in the test team, Dean Jones found this out in the middle of India's M.A. Chidambaram Stadium. Though Jones scored a double hundred in immense heat, vomiting all the way, Border still asked more of him and the tied result of the match maybe justified his stance.

Despite never getting the ultimate success (for the age) against the West Indies, Border's career concluded with Australia as number two and taking off for the glory years. Border was still a constant and a force in the breakthrough 1987 World Cup and the 1989 Ashes victories. While others were on glorious runs of form in both of these tournaments, the captain held his game together as solidly as ever in the middle order. He retired after Australian cricket returned to South Africa and left behind a core of players that built on his legacy.

 
Both Waugh twins, Ian Healy, and Mark Taylor became the leaders of the next generation of Australian cricket and all learned much about mental toughness and winning hard from their former leader. Even while Shane Warne was spinning a web around the hapless Englishmen there was still one man who could still attack him. Warne himself has admitted that he has never been played as well as by Border (in training) in his early career. Despite his unspectacular batting nature you can do a lot worse than to watch footage of Border batting against spinners to learn the art of playing the slow men.

I never saw a Border century live, and struggle to remember seeing one on television except maybe for glimpses of his second test double century, this against England in 1993. I maintain Taylor as the best captain that Australian cricket had tactically and in understanding the game, but give me Border to bat or captain for my life any day. He did not inspire me as a child during his career, but in retrospect he has become the marker of what I consider quality cricket. Maybe why I love watching Peter Siddle today as it is he who epitomises individuals who play as though they want to squeeze every last drop of success out of their talent.

With questions abounding Australian cricket of what group of players will lead the way back up to the top the question for me is not how much do they want success? It is whether they want it as much as AB did?

Clarke's latest problem: Generation Y

Rumours of a sudden challenge to the Crown Prince's ascendance to the throne are greatly exaggerated. Or perhaps not. What is certain though is that Michael Clarke isn't the popular figure in the Australian dressing room that he was two years ago, fuelled by allegations that senior teammates disliked his criticism of Mike Hussey and Doug Bollinger for playing in the IPL. His recent lack of results as captain are also a problem: results, they say, are the ultimate leveller.

Anointed from an early age as Australia's next captain, Clarke's commitment to bettering himself and in securing results for Australian cricket cannot be questioned. He's sacrificed a lot for his cricket and has been rewarded handsomely with money, status and with fan adulation. But still he does not convince as a leader of men. The reason for this disharmony may not come however from his inability as a tactician, his skill level or even his temperament. It may come from his birthdate. Michael Clarke is the first of a new generation of Australian cricketers - The Generation Y leader.

Clarke was born in 1981, placing him firmly in Generation Y's catchment years. He's completely dedicated to being the Australia captain and has been since he was prepubescent. He made his debut at a young age (23) before experiencing a mix of success and failure at the top level. To counter the failures and achieve his goals he's gradually removed elements of his batting making him now a pale shadow of the youngster who made such a loud - and watchable - debut in 2004. He's ultimately dedicated to his craft. What do we know about Michael Clarke apart from his status as an Australian cricketer? That he owns and loves a Z3 roadster and that he dated and nearly married Bingle. It is eminently possible that he is, and let's be fair, the most boring man on the planet. That's it - there doesn't seem to be a lot more to the bloke.

To compare the Generations in cricket is interesting. Take for example the Australian side from now and from eight years ago. The squad from 2002 sported players who expressed themselves through their performances and loved doing it. Langer was combative while Hayden was dominating. Waugh was tough and Warne loved the spotlight. Now compare those guys and those characteristics with our current Australian team. How would you describe Simon Katich? A hard worker? Shane Watson overcomes obstacles. Michael Clarke is dedicated. Nathan Hauritz defines pedestrian in every sense of the word. Do you see differing personalities in the Aussie dressing room? Obviously I don't - I've just used three synonyms to define three different guys.

It's because it takes so long for cricketers to ascend to leadership roles that we've not seen this before now. In almost any other sport, players in their early 20s can be on- and off-field leaders: take a look at the AFL, the Rugby twins Union and League, Basketball, football - you name it. There are rites-of-passage that a cricket captain must endure that don't exist in other sports. Clarke's the first of his generation to undergo these rites and he won't be the last. He dealt with these demands, passed them even, and probably feels a sense of entitlement to the throne. But as I posited here last week, he's dealt with them in an inward-looking manner rather than by shifting his focus to the outward. You can see him thinking Deal with the controllable elements, Pup and for him, the controllable elements are his own form and results. Single-minded dedication isn't a sin but it is easily mistakable for selfishness.

Since the Packer Revolution thirty-three years ago, the sport has become more and more professional. It is only now though that the side is made up by a majority of cricketers who know the game only as it is now: a fully professional sport which takes an awful lot to get to the top. Pup wants the captaincy so he is prepared to sacrifice and work until he achieves it. He is, like many products of Generation Y,: driven by task, process and achievement rather than by people or relationships. Ultimately, however, the best captains - the best leaders, in general - have solid a footing in both camps.

Though a mediocre Test batsman, Mike Brearley was often said to have had "a degree in people". Allan Border knew exactly what to say to a player in order to provoke the desired response: witness his "Let's get a real Australian out here, let's get a Queenslander" moment to Dean Jones during Deano's 210 at Madras in 1986. That speech followed a pre-game pep talk that left Jones feeling "ten feet tall" at the responsibility with which his captain had just entrusted him. Mark Taylor had an incredible ability to handle players, media and administrators alike. Clarke's most famous moments in the dressing room include being grabbed around the throat, leaving the team to deal with Bingle's inevitable self-implosion and now rumours that he's not suited to the job because he tacitly accused two devoted players of valuing money over country.

Michael Clarke was both bred and trained to play for Australia. As a result of this he will do nothing to jeopardise that position. Example: Why are his press conferences so dull? They're boring because he talks in management-speak and refuses to say anything that's not completely safe. Having a manager since his mid-teens, Clarke knows his commercial value - and that's only fair. The brand must be protected. It smacks of someone who knows all he desires is within his grasp and now fears losing it rather than going out and winning it. In soccer parlance, he's defending a lead. He takes himself exceedingly seriously.

This is not his fault of course - he can't help the times in which he's grown up. It's just another obstacle that he needs to clear. But in a position of maximum public exposure time will only prove that he is what he is: a child of his times focused with "eyes on the prize" to the exclusion of all else, a learned behaviour over his 29 years which is going to take a titanic effort of will and learning to overcome. We've seen in before of our sports stars: refusing to give ammunition, talking only of processes and one-day-at-a-time. He is a product of his generation - the famous friends that every celebrity must have, the endorsements, the celebrity hookups, the Premiere appearances - and those of us who remember past generations don't respond well to it even though we've played a major role in the development of this mindset.

Ultimately, we must point the finger of blame for Michael Clarke's inability to effectively man-manage straight at ourselves. We as a nation have valued results to the point where we now define ourselves by our ability to generate sporting results. Some time ago results became more important than the love of the game and the next generation reflect this. This is Australia's sporting world from now on: we valued first sport for it's own sake and this transitioned into sport for sake of results, and we've done this to the extent that to get to the top a player is forced to adhere to rules from such an early age that it becomes ingrained. We love Aussies who get results too much. For better or worse, we love them so much that we've bred or trained much of the individualism and the joie de vivre out of them.

This is the future of sports: bland players who value their positions (as they should) and value what those positions can bring them. The message of any future captain will remain the same until we make a cultural shift as to what we value. The way in which that message is delivered may change: where Michael Clarke is earnest with the media, his "rivals" North and Cameron White are affable. As we leave behind a Generation X whose very raison d'etre was to succeed through expressing themselves in everything they did, we embrace a generation who want only to succeed. If that's a good thing or not is up to you.

Welcome to the future, Australia. These are your children.

Let's play the captaincy lottery!

The news that the Australian dressing room is split into camps for and against Michael Clarke's fait-d'accompli ascension to the captaincy is hardly surprising. Rarely is there a clear-cut situation after a captain departs the International scene, it just happens that Australia's Golden Age of cricketers were born spread out enough to produce three fantastic individual performers in Mark Taylor, Steve Waugh and Ricky Ponting, who was each the natural successor to the previous captain.

The Australian cricket team does not resemble those strong teams of the past. Indeed, it resembles more the squad of a divided central board: a board that plays favourites and is looking only towards short term results. Clarke has been management's Golden Hair'd Boy since before his elevation to the captaincy of Australia A in 2003 over more experienced teammates. True, he's been about the only certainty to retain his place in the national setup Post-Ponting, but his lack of ability to lead publicly - like the current Aussie skipper - only casts more doubt on his ability to be effective in a role which infamously shoulders nearly as much pressure as the Australian Prime Minister.

It was news to me that Marcus North and Callum Ferguson was considered by corners of the dressing room a more worthy Test captain than Clarke. That Cameron White - he of nearly ten years' Victorian captaincy - was also named was less surprising. (We actually posited on the best selections for captain here and World Cricket Watch did here) But after the last few months it's emerged that Clarke is no longer unanimously the best choice to captain Australia after Ponting's abdication.

Are there any more questions as to why? Watch one of his pressers and you'll know. He's about as transparent as shopfront glass and just as interesting. It's not just that though: it's his lapsed romance with "Australia's Classiest Lass" Bingle, it's also his dressing-room confrontation with Simon Katich after a win last year and especially his veiled criticism of IPL-playing teammates in such a "holier-than-thou" manner. That he's nearly thirty and still bears the nickname "Pup" speaks volumes about his standing amongst his teammates: nicknames like "Rookie" or "The Kid" tend to disappear as the player assumes more authority but not in this case.

At present, both North and White are flawed selections, however. This is simply because neither of them are able to justify their place in the Test team through their performances. If a captain is unable to lead publicly then they must do so via their on-field prowess. This, particularly, is what makes Clarke's case compelling - he is now rivalled only by his openers as a Test batsman. North and White, though both decidedly more affable and having more domestic leadership experience, have been unable to establish themselves in the Test side due to a lack of consistency, skill, opportunity or New South Wales blood. In order to justify his position as skipper, a captain must deliver on-field and cricket history is rife with examples of leaders picked for their interpersonal or schmoozing skills but lacking the requisite on-field graft: Mike Brearley. Brian Booth. Lee Germon. Mike Denness. Darren Sammy. Chris Cowdrey. It's no coincidence that three of the aforementioned are English, installed by an MCC board attempting to still the waters of revolution. The revolution is coming again: this one Free Agency, pioneered by the West Indies, if only this time by necessity and money rather than by any pioneering spirit.

There always remains the ability to grow into the public leadership role as Alan Border did. Border, a notoriously private man off the field, grew taciturn at even implied criticism yet was able to turn his media discomfort into an advantage as he created a whole new persona for himself as "Captain Grumpy". The problem with Clarke is that that he's had International leadership experience now for the best part of five years and has yet to grow into this role. He hasn't shown a maturity of personality that's come with this experience, just a realisation that his performances have to justify his exalted status and as such he withdrawn into himself both on the field and off. Rather than grow and expand his focus outward, Clarke has retracted with his eyes firmly on himself. It's not selfish, because I'm certain he sees himself as leading via performance rather than by inspiration.

And that's not to say that one must choose to lead by performance or by inspiration. Both Mark Taylor and Steve Waugh were able to do so successfully. So were Clive Lloyd and Sir Viv Richards - in fact, all the great captains were able to combine the two elements. Border grew into leading both ways. It's just one tends to, by their own experience, develop - value, even - one style more than the other.

Ponting's imminent pasturing is not the real reason to sweat on a new captain. The skipper has shown no signs of wanting to retire nor would it make any sense for him to play on under a new captain, so if Australia wants him, the get him as captain. The greater concern is that unlike their famous "We love the Underdog" mentality, the turmoil surrounding the national team corresponds with dramatically falling interest levels in cricket in Australia. The current squad doesn't need an heir apparent, it needs stability to come from anywhere: performances, selections, the future. A captain with the ability to combine performance and attitude will emerge in time, but perhaps not in time enough to still Australia's slide into cricketing no-man's-land.

Definite, Probable, Maybe ... Definitely Not.

When looking down the list at the Australian team that recently surrendered almost without whimper to India in Bangalore, it became apparent that Marcus North has an incredible ability to make runs when the pressure is on him but never scores when the pressure's on his team. His recent high-score of 128 brought his average up from 33 to 37. When taken in context, that's on a par with such luminaries as Neil McKenzie, Nathan Astle and Sanjay Manjrekar. On form – and on reputation, given his unpopularity with Australian fans – that seems about fair for a player who convinces no-one that he's about to usher in the next era of Australian greatness.

So drop him. The Australian team is unquestionably rebuilding – with Ricky Ponting, Mike Hussey, Simon Katich, Brad Haddin and North all the wrong side of 30 and unlikely to be present for Australian cricket's next period of sustained success, it's time to remove those players who won't be present in five years time and replace them with players who will be.

During the last major Aussie cricket remodelling, coach Bob Simpson and captain Allan Border identified early which players had the talent and application to be part of a winning system. Upon Simpson's hiring, the “definites” were Border, Steve Waugh, David Boon and Craig McDermott. Dean Jones and Geoff Marsh were listed as “probables”. On deciding who had the stones to stick, they then set about building a side around those players, trying a number of players in different positions in the XI – for instance it took three different wicketkeepers before chancing on Ian Healy and five spinners before Shane Warne was found. The great Australians of 1991-2007 slowly began to emerge.

When looking back, is it surprising that those listed first – Waugh, Boon, McDermott – had the longest and most productive Test careers? The probables weren't failures by any stretch as both Jones and Marsh played over 50 Tests as well, but the “definites” now rank among Australia's all-time greats.

The parallels between the two eras aren't so clear cut yet only because this batch of ageing Aussies haven't yet walked off into the sunset. But as each player from that Golden Era goes, the Australian selectors have tried to replace almost like-for-like rather than with vision. Brad Hogg was replaced by Beau Casson, Jason Krezja, Nathan Hauritz, Bryce McGain and then Hauritz again. Ditto Glenn McGrath, who passed on the torch to Stuart Clark and then Doug Bollinger. Australia has to pick players according to where they will be in three-to-four years and not for their immediate benefits. Although Australia was blessed with a remarkable number of great cricketers born between 1968 and 1978, the cricket revival our country saw in the 90s didn't come about simply as the result of a Golden Generation but of the foresight of Bob Simpson and Allan Border.

Cycling through the Australian lineup you see several players who couldn't be listed as “definites” or even “probables” for an Ashes series in 2014-15. These guys slide between the categories “Maybe”, like Nathan Hauritz or an outright “No” a la Simon Katich, if only because of his age. It's time to selectively breed out these “maybe” and “no” players and replace them not with a player who replaces what they do but with players who have a chance to be great.

To give an example of the mindset required, please take the following example plucked from my own day to day life. My wife and I are in the process of moving across the continent. On the weekend we set aside time to work out what clothes we needed or wanted, and which clothes we should give away. After half an hour of back-and-forth I worked out why the process was taking so long – I had gone into the exercise looking for reasons to discard clothes, whereas she had begun looking for reasons to keep them. The Australian selectors need to take the “What can we discard?” attitude to the current crop of Test players. They've done so before – Brad Hodge being omitted two Tests after a double-hundred springs immediately to mind – and they should do so again. Given their current run of poor results, the incumbents aren't making a convincing case to stay.

The time has come for the pressure not to be placed on underperforming Australian players but on the underperforming selectors. It's the job of Messrs Hilditch, Boon, Cox and Hughes to make the choices that don't just benefit us with an Ashes series win, but with another reign at the top of international cricket.