Sledging returns as Ashes enters the final straight
Two sides trade verbal barbs but one man stays silent, Isabelle Westbury writes from Old Trafford
The silent treatment. It is one of those theories, reverse psychology if you will, that is applied to those opponents who are believed to crave the limelight, the attention. Those who need something or someone to rise up against in order to perform at their best. No surprises, then, that it was tried by many against one Pietersen, Kevin.
In professional sport, therefore, where confidence, egos and singleminded determination are more prevalent than most other walks of life, silence is frequently golden.
Sometimes, however, good intentions can go out of the window and there is a realisation that “let the ball do the talking” only gets you so far. That moment was reached on the fourth day of the fourth Ashes Test in Manchester yesterday as the sledging
we suspected might emerge finally burst into centre stage.
It was all fun and games at first, as we enjoyed the to and fro with the crowd – remember David Warner emptying his pockets at Edgbaston – but it built, niggling, nurdling, and suddenly it went. Pop.
We had had a preview, through Jonny Bairstow, two days before, whose efforts to distract Tim Paine had proved futile. Craig Overton could not help himself with a word or two once Marnus Labuschagne finally fell in the first innings, but he denied any suggestions it was a send-off.
Yesterday, though, it went up a notch thanks to Matthew Wade. The reformed, more serene, new father that is Wade, who was fielding at short leg when Archer came in to bat. “Heady [Travis Head], did Jofra tell you that he was going to the [Adelaide] Strikers next year?” taunted the Tasmanian, over speculation that Archer might move from Hobart to South Australia in the Big Bash League. “Do you think if we talked about stuff like that, like what Jofra’s doing, he can’t go to the media? Otherwise they would have to print that. Like if we just talk about stuff that he is doing. If we say stuff that he doesn’t want to come out then we should be fine. Wowsers.”
“I know he once turned up after warm-up in one of the BBL games in Hobart,” continued Wade. It sounded like a stream of consciousness. Tim Paine decided it was. “Don’t say a word in there Wadey,” advised his captain. An hour or so later Archer responded in kind, a bumper or two, a couple of words and Archer had his man. Sticks and stones, Wade, sticks and stones.
There were other moments that were audible through the stump mics, too. Craig Overton was apparently asked if he was even the most talented cricketer in his family, a reference to the fact that his twin brother, Jamie, has also been a member of the England development programmes.
It all meant we could dispense with the idea that these verbal barbs are “below” the professionals of today, many of whom play together in the various T20 tournaments around the world and could even consider each other as friends more than enemies.
And on some occasions, when the words are reined in and a game plan is to hand, sledging can work. Mental disintegration, Steve Waugh once snarled. There was nothing wrong with the words exchanged yesterday. Nothing untoward, nothing that went beyond that line we know so well. Stuart Broad even had a little wave at Labuschagne, once he had gone in the second innings, spitting his chewing gum out on the way. If anything they were quite funny, a little petty, and offered levity as England were forced ever further onto the back foot.
But one thing is for sure — not once did we hear Steve Smith on those stump mics. I wonder why.