The place of sledging in cricket - Brad Haddin's rudeness and Virat Kohli's silent insult

Brad Haddin and Virat Kohli during the volatile MCG Test

"Greg, you know what it looks like, now go and find it", said Sir Vivian Richards after hitting a monstrous six - out of the ground and into a nearby river - in response to the famous Greg Thomas sledge, "It's red, round and weighs about five ounces, in case you were wondering”, to Sir Viv, when the latter had played and missed several balls in a row.

Few decades later Wahab Riaz heard something similar. This time it was the white ball instead. "It's the white thing, you have to hit it", said Mitchell Starc at Adelaide in the World Cup semi-final. Before that, Watson had politely inquired from the slips, "Are you holding a bat?”. Faulkner gave Wahab a stare later and Haddin, as usual, had a few things to say.

Unlike Viv, Wahab Riaz did not have the ability to smack Starc out of the park. However, unlike Viv, Wahab could bowl bouncers at 150 kmph. But he had to wait to respond to the Australian sledges, and wait he did. Later, Watson would pay, almost!

Wahab to Watson, it’s a bouncer, Watson ducks, Wahab stares, claps looking at the slip turns back to bowl.

Wahab to Watson, another bouncer, rises more than Watson expected, Watson defends awkwardly, Wahab stares, word this time, and other team mates join him.

Wahab to Watson, another short one, cuts him in half, Watson stays away, more claps from Wahab, more words, probably saying, “You too have a bat in your hand Watto, and still you can’t touch the ball”.

Later, ICC fined these two gentlemen, for an incident in the 33rd over. Poor ICC, I pity them for having to make rules regarding sledging. The rules does not care about context. As far as sledging goes, context is everything.

Sledging outcome of natural cricketing emotion?

Watson gave stone faced reactions to Wahab’s brutality – with the ball and the words – for about half an hour in his first spell. He was laughing to the same at the back end of the game. The sledges had lost the context and Pakistan had lost the game by then.

Sledge, as we call it, is just another emotion in cricket. It is not always right. It is not always wrong either. In a game riddled with so many emotions, you expect a few things to go wrong, to go cheap. This game would have been poorer without these one-on-one tussles.

Just like sport sledging is about picking your moments. It’s about enhancing the moment you have just won only if there is room for it. It’s not about trying to win a moment you have already lost or about creating one which is not there at all. It is more about controlling than letting it go.

Refraining from sledging a great insult

Some of them never sledge. The best, except for Australians, never sledge. Celebrations from Sachin Tendulkar were never about ‘Dude, in your face. There goes another century’. Nope. It was almost a relief; an acknowledgement to himself for having lived up to the reputation he had created for himself.

And then there is Dale Steyn. He roars. He roars to a point it seems he will fall into pieces. The roar is seldom at the batsman that he has dismissed. All of this is for the universe around him; as if he has conquered it.

When Brad Haddin started trending on twitter with #ThingsThatMakeHaddinUncomfortable, I recalled a very interesting story a friend once told me.

“We used to play with a local team. They used to beat us almost every time.” said my friend sadly.

“They were fierce cricketers, used to bowl their hearts out and used to bat like they despise the cricket ball. Amid all this, they never once said a word to us during the match.” he continued.

“Once the match is over, they used to take us to the nearest canteen and would order tea and biscuits for us.” he frowned.

“That’s a good thing right?” I asked surprised at his expressions. “Good thing?” he shouted back.

“First of all they used to hand us enbarrassing defeats, then, despite being the same age they used to treat us like kids. They were so nice to us that it was humiliating.” he explained.

Brad Haddin wasn’t completely wrong when he felt insulted by the niceties of New Zealanders. This is the world number one team; they come to your home to play a World Cup match; you beat them in a nail-biter contest; almost perform the sacred act of hara-kiri in the process and then you behave as if you have just beaten Scotland.

Kohli’s ‘insult’ towards Rubel Hossain

Brad felt bad because Kiwis weren't celebrating every wicket the way they should have. They weren't in their faces. They weren't screaming their hearts out. They reacted to the dismissals like they would if they had got a Bangladesh batsman out. That is got to sting.

The other day, Virat Kohli received a full bloodied send off from Rubel Hossain. There was apparently some history between these two from a 2011 World Cup game. Kohli did not respond then. When Rubel got out in the second half, the cameras followed Kohli for a good 10 seconds. Everybody expected Kohli to respond to what had happened earlier. Kohli did not respond. He did not swear, he did not shout, he did not even look happy. He controlled all that and shook his head looking down at the ground – as if Rubel did not exist; that his innings meant nothing; that he expected nothing less than a total failure from Rubel’s bat. That is the highest degree of insult.

Rubel Hossain reacts after dismissing Virat Kohli in the World Cup quarter final

Cricketers play for recognition - applause, fear, acknowledgement, approval - every emotion has its place. The act of acknowledgement is probably the most important for a sportsman. Even in failure. It tells you how important you could have been.

Cricket is a rare team game where individual performances can change, and at times define, the course of the game.

Thus, when Kohli received a sendoff, he probably knew that Bangladesh had hit jackpot. Rubel had hit jackpot. Perhaps, in his core, he wasn’t displeased about the sledging more than he was about his own dismal performance. On the other hand, when Aussies found themselves beaten, they expected an over the top celebrations from Kiwis – their arch rivals – but there were none. There were no stares, no swear words, no abuses, no filth on the ground. They were just being nice.

Thankfully, they did not offer the Aussies some tea and biscuits later.

Sport is about winning. It is not about defeating someone else. There is a difference. And yet by doing nothing you hold the power to crush the ego of the opposition.

How ironic and how beautiful.