THERE’S NO REST FOR THE WICKED... IS THERE?
When Bob Woolmer first introduced the concept of ‘voluntary’ net sessions on tour during the mid Nineties, he would have enjoyed greater success in promoting ballet classes. Captain Kepler Wessels counted heads at every one of these so-called voluntary sessions and made no secret of his disdain for them – disgust, even.
“So, you’re obviously in great form – no need to train, huh? You obviously can’t get any better, I’ll expect a lot of runs and wickets from you,” he said snidely to big all-rounder Brian McMillan, the only man in the squad ever to use the word ‘voluntary’ in its literal sense.
The seed for the long process of change was planted by Gary Kirsten in 1998 when, emboldened by the unexpected award of the vice-captaincy, he spoke of the “mental weariness” of opening the batting against Glenn McGrath for two months in both Test and ODI cricket.
Six weeks into the tour, he suggested that a stroll around Sydney’s Circular Quay might be more beneficial to both him and the team than hitting more balls in the nets. Woolmer agreed, although Wessels’ successor, Hansie Cronje, was deeply unenthused.
The team’s current manager, Mohammed Moosajee, was the assistant manager back then so his association with the team extends beyond a decade and a half. As a qualified and practising medical doctor, he needed no convincing about the healing and restorative powers of rest. Gradually, the puritanical dedication to practising and training, so intrinsic to the Afrikaner heritage from which Wessels and Cronje emerged, began to be compromised.
First Darryl Cullinan and then Jonty Rhodes retired from ODI and Test cricket respectively to concentrate on their strength. It caused uproar and was regarded as outrageously controversial.
But the wheel finally turned full circle almost a decade later when Kirsten became South Africa’s head coach six months after leading India to World Cup glory. Unlike most parents when raising their children, he did not revert to type and make the same mistakes his parents did. As a coach, he implemented all of the measures he believed should have been in place when he was a player.
He spoke to every member of the squad individually and regularly to ascertain their state of mind and come up with a training and/or fitness plan structured to their personal needs. His dedication to quality training rather than quantity extended to cancelling half of the proposed county matches on the 2012 tour of England and reducing those remaining from three days to two.
“There is no preparation in the world less suitable for a Test match than standing around for three days playing a county second XI in a game watched and cared for by nobody.You might not even get a bat. I honestly believe I can help a guy prepare better for a Test match with 30 intensive minutes in a middle practice,” he said then.
There was also a nine-day gap between Tests on that tour during which Kirsten encouraged the players to “get out and see some of the country”. Many did, but inevitably several of the youngsters also risked contracting ‘cabin fever’ with lengthy lie-ins, extended viewing sessions of Discovery Channel and an over-reliance on room service.
Six months later there was more of the same in Australia although the coach
Gradually, the puritanical dedication to practising and training, so intrinsic to Afrikaner heritage, began to be compromised
took ‘time away from the game’ to a new level by flying back to Cape Town for four days between Test matches.
It was a pledge that he and wife Deborah had made soon after their marriage that they would never spend more than 21 days apart. Usually, it was Debs doing the travelling, but having recently delivered their third child, it was Gary who boarded the plane.
So, what worked back then will work now. Maybe. Graeme Smith’s team, which Kirsten had the pleasure of coaching, was packed with highly experienced and mature cricketers who knew and understood their bodies and minds. If Jacques Kallis, Hashim Amla, Mark Boucher or Dale Steyn needed a three-hour net, two days in bed or four hours at the bar (not in Amla’s case, obviously) then that’s what they did.
But this is a very different squad – there are 16 players in it, for starters, so that leaves five who haven’t played any cricket for at least three weeks. So, while Amla deserves to be with his young children on a Durban beach this week, others from the Test XI, like Temba Bavuma, Heino Kuhn, Keshav Maharaj and Chris Morris, would almost certainly have benefitted from some cricket.
“It does concern me,” admitted former captain Shaun Pollock, who fully supported rest days during his tenure but rarely took them himself.
“I always liked to keep things ticking over if they were going well – and if they weren’t going well I wanted to fix them, so I wouldn’t have been comfortable with a whole week away.
“Hopefully it works for them and they all gather in London refreshed and rejuvenated, but I’d say it’s a risk.”
The man to negate that risk, naturally, is captain Faf du Plessis. The power of his personality and ability to demand – and receive – maximum intensity from his players ought to be good enough to ensure that two days will suffice. Probably.