Cool hand Kane shows motormouths how to behave

One of the strange results of this Cricket World Cup is that the Kiwis have emerged from it full of dignity and grace, unlike much of the fallout from another recent World Cup.

Leave it to Kane Williamson to put in the shadows the short-man-syndrome splutterings of the unpleasant former Indian great Sunil Gavaskar and the macho chestbeating of former Australian allrounder Simon O’Donnell.

Captain Kane isn’t always a riveting speaker. Legend has it that chronic insomniacs across the country have developed the habit of tuning into his press conferences to be lulled by his soothing drone. In Mumbai, after India’s clear victory in the World Cup semifinal, Williamson was not just eloquent, he spoke with such transparent sincerity and admiration of his opponents that I bet even the most ardent nationalists in the Indian media fans’ press corps were quieted.

“They’re the best team in the world and they’re all playing their best cricket, so that’s tough,” Williamson said. “The way they’ve played throughout this tournament has been incredible.”

On Virat Kohli, pretty much the best batter in the world, Williamson said: “If you play 50 games, some people would call that a great career, but to get 50 hundreds . . . he’s the best, isn’t he? And he seems to be getting better, which is a worry for opposition all around the world. It’s incredible, really.”

Kohli, at 35, will probably not be around long enough to unseat Sachin Tendulkar as the greatest run-scorer in ODI history; he is some 4500-plus runs ahead. Kohli has scored the most ODI centuries, 50 ahead of Tendulkar’s 49, and he did it in 172 fewer innings, remarkable. He also has the highest average — 58.69 — in history, heading a bunch of only five players with ODI averages above 50.

In this week’s semifinal, the writing was so clearly on the wall when Kohli came in that we Kiwis would have understood it even if it’d been written in Sanskrit. Skipper Rohit Sharma had sliced and diced the Black Caps attack in the opening overs, giving Kohli time to set himself for that stroll to his 50th century. It looked inevitable; it was.

Williamson’s words came after a brave chase by the Black Caps and yet another outstanding innings by Daryl Mitchell. It was a performance which, to use that horrendously cliched phrase, they could (genuinely) be proud of, lending weight to Williamson’s analysis afterwards.

It also came without reference to the high-handed move by India to switch the pitch before the match from the one selected by the ICC to the one they wanted. It had no bearing on the outcome — but it dripped arrogance, underlining the immutable fact that India controls world cricket; the world body doesn’t.

Williamson, correctly, made no mention of that — perhaps a lesson for those who didn’t learn from Ian Foster’s composed reaction to a certain rugby game that had most of us fizzing at the bung (“the game has a few issues to sort out”). Some continue to belabour referee Wayne Barnes, who is, incidentally, able to use all this to sell his book.

Others mentioned the pitch, Australians in particular — and that set the diminutive Gavaskar off on a tirade, a mouse roaring at invisible opponents. He called those who questioned the pitch switch “morons”, demanded that they “shut up” and said: “Stop taking potshots at India. Stop talking about pitch change. It was for both teams.”

Well, Sunny, actually, no it wasn’t. That kind of logic is, well, moronic. There’s a band of Black Caps of a certain generation who remember Gavaskar well as a player. One of the greats, yes, but he also had a reputation for being a bit of a word that rhymes with brick.

He is also one of a coterie of Indian TV commentators who bumble away, mostly about how grand India is, and whose cheerleading is moved into stark contrast when a real commentator comes on, such as Ian Smith.

However, for my money, O’Donnell sounded an even bigger brick. He climbed into the Kiwis for helping Kohli when the batter got cramp: “Under no circumstances should you have gone within 20 metres of Virat Kohli when he had a cramp. He threw his bat away and one of the Kiwis went and picked it up. Go and pick your own bat up while you’ve got a sore hamstring and a cramp. Stop hitting us for sixes and fours. I don’t get it, I just don’t get it. Stuff helping him out . . . why help him make the 50th against you in a World Cup semifinal?”

Right, Simon, let me explain it to you. Two things:

1. Most Kiwis admire Australian cricket success but think that we don’t have to behave like a group of cavemen with frontal lobotomies to win (which they largely have . . . win, I mean).

2. How does picking up a bat lessen the desire to win? Hey, Sunny — is he one of your morons?

So notwithstanding Gavaskar’s graceless gobbing off and one-eyed view of all things Indian cricket, I think tomorrow night’s final might find me cheering for India and hoping that, if an Australian batter goes down with cramp, that someone comes up and kicks him, or at least hides his bat.

It was a performance which they could (genuinely) be proud of, lending weight to Williamson’s analysis.