Peter Siddle - Trading glory for grunt work

Peter Siddle: hard, hostile and hot to handle

A toned and carefully nurtured fast bowling unit resembles a well-oiled machine, presenting a wholesome picture of a theatrical unit garnished with men assigned individual roles, with the expectation of uniform excellence. The responsibility is collective and so should be the response. Individual glory is proportional to collective excellence, with the difference being a few characters unfortunately being pushed to the backdrop. Such men who wilfully whittle into the backseats deserve high praise for their unsung valour, which is instrumental in engineering moments of euphoria for their illustrious colleagues who play to the galleries. The role of a workhorse is often underplayed akin to an unenviable pair of strong yet unstylish shoes, seldom garnering the appreciation it rightfully deserves.

In cricket, a workhorse lives his name, relentlessly runs in all day, thereby lending the entire unit the much required virtue of stability. And who better than the banana-eating vegan from Victoria as a case study for an all-weather workhorse who goes about his profession with a no-nonsense air, his stride being a reflection of his never-say-die attitude, giving no quarters and asking for none.

Yes, he is Peter Siddle, from a rare breed: a diaspora which is like a fuel to any team when its tank is perniciously close to empty.

He oozes energy, radiates vibrancy and vociferously battles till the very end. Unsung stalwarts of stamina (read: Siddle) initiate the spark which sets up the hearth for the ghastly conflagration a fire breathing dragon (read: Mitchell Johnson) ignites. Men like Siddle stalk the prey with a predator’s precision, keep an end watertight for the noose to be tightened by his counterpart steaming in from the other end.

For Siddle, days as a youngster were not as merry as a bedtime fairy tale; in fact, nowhere close to the same. Despite him resorting to chopping pieces of wood to make ends meet, the desire of making it big in the cricketing arena, the dream of locking horns with the greats of the game remained as vigorous as ever. The woodcutter, with a body which still looks like carved out of it, sweated it out by the second. An impeccable work ethic brandishing a determination rarely seen in his kin, the Victorian axe wielder put up old school fast bowling up for display in the limited opportunities that knocked his door: hard, hostile and hot to handle.

A stint with the bottles of drinks during the 2006/07 Ashes whitewash, Siddle was witness to the cataclysmic carnage of the Poms by a team of legends who scripted their swansong in swashbuckling style. With a couple of mortal geniuses calling it a day, along came the call the Victorian quick was waiting for. An impressive show in the Indian sands with the ‘A’ side was rewarded with an extension in his return ticket. Sidds was allowed to stay back as an ‘understudy’ in the Indian safari of 2009.

Siddle has earned, not received his glories

Stuart Clark pulled out of the Mohali Test owing to injury, handling Siddle a 11th-hour debut. Though the Test would be remembered for Sachin Tendulkar overtaking Brian Lara to become the leading run-scorer in Test cricket, it offered titbits for Siddle to savour as he induced many an outside edge, stamping his class and showcasing his sublime talent. He was picked for his raw talent and, as skipper Ricky Ponting mentioned, for the way he played, putting an inimitable eagerness on display every time he graced the ground.

The game of cricket is blessed with a multitude of dimensions that provide the players the luxury to pick citadels of their choice. The heavy behind-the-screen planning underpinning the modern day contest demands specialists in each regiment: commandos who can command absolute supremacy in their individual realms. Men like Siddle thrive on competition rather than floundering under its heat: the numero uno virtue of sweating it up the ranks the hard-nosed Australian way.

Failures are treated as ladders, and not as pits, reinvigorating the urge to win. Siddle’s tenacity was an investment Aussie cricket persisted with because here was a workhorse who dedicated every single breath in his body to the team’s cause. Dividends, highly deserved ones at that, were a tad delayed for sure, but not denied. From being a bartender to the spearhead of the attack, Siddle reposed the faith comparable to a long term bond, with an excellent face value at maturity.

The Adelaide Test against the Proteas would be a memory ever cherished for Faf Du Plessis’ vigil resulting in a draw, which wasn’t predicted by even the most bizarre of bookies. But, with due credit to Du Plessis, the cricketing fraternity would do good to spare a thought for the man who braved the scorching heat and ran in over after over, manning an attack which was a man short.

Bathed in sweat, Siddle bowled the last ball of the match with as much intensity as the very first one. Here was a warrior who never ceased to call it a day until the very last drop of blood was squeezed out of him. Well, at the end of the day, the bagful of wickets to justify the rigorousness of his effort deluded this Victorian marvel, but any pair of eyes which witnessed that mammoth game would salute Siddle’s magnificence along with Faf’s miracles.

The feather in his hat being the fact that his success has been atop a hostile terrain, Siddle has all along earned, not received his glories. He might not have the cult status enjoyed by a spin king by the name of a certain Shane Warne, or the pinpoint accuracy of a Glenn McGrath or the sheer fear factor Brett Lee induced with his pace, but Siddle stands tall on his own legs. He commands his rightful position in Australian cricket’s chapel of eternal glory irrespective of the way his remaining career shapes up.

That what we see should metamorphose into what we enjoy will resemble an imbalanced, skewed function, if not an entirely bizarre one. Visual evidence provides us a view of the scabbard; the acerbic sword underneath is seldom disclosed. The emotion of appreciation reaches a crescendo when an artist with his pros and cons garners as much, if not more, appreciation as the art and its nuances. It is easy to become besotted by flash. The game demands much more from its ardent lovers. Workhorses of Siddle’s tribe remain the ultimate warhorses in a skipper’s regiment. To shoot point blank, they put substance over sleek and sacrifice glory for grunt work, without worrying about tomorrows to be secured.