Cricket is also about smashing self-delusion to reality’s boundary
by Neil Manthorp,
2015-07-28 05:47:29.0
DECEPTION is crucial to success in cricket. Bowlers are attempting some form of trickery all the time, even when it’s only line and length they’re after. There is always the hope that the batsman will be looking out for something different.
Batsmen do it, too, even if it’s only with body language.
If it wasn’t important then they would rub the bruise every time they were hit.
They feign attack to induce a bowling error and look nonchalant when a false shot reaches the boundary.
Even fumbling fielders pretend to have gathered the ball cleanly to trick the batsman into a risky run, although this tactic is officially frowned upon.
Yet cricketers can be forgiven for feeling confused at times. They are told to believe in themselves and then told to face up to reality and be honest about their individual or team frailties and failings. They are told it is a game between bat and ball, not reputations, when confronted with those of greater stature and record.
Cricketers are told to be positive, to hit the ball rather than defend it, to have faith in their pace and ability to find an outside edge even when all hope seems lost.
In short, they are asked just as frequently to practise self-deception rather than opposition deception. And as millions of retired cricketers will testify, they need it.
By commonly accepted standards, before T20, batsmen and bowlers were deemed to have "succeeded" if they scored 50+ or took four or more wickets. Which means the very best players over the past century were doomed to "failure" in somewhere between 80% and 95% of their visits to the crease.
If they weren’t able to kid themselves nobody would play the game very long.
The very best self-deceivers are the ones whose kidology is infectious enough to convince teammates low on esteem and self-confidence that their next big score or bag of wickets is also just around the corner.
A changeroom full of energetic self-belief is far more likely to succeed than one digesting the stark realities of the game.
It only lasts so long, obviously. If an out-of-form player’s bubble of self-delusion proves to be stronger than his results, it is for the coach or team selector to burst it.
But as long as the team’s win ratio is acceptable, the struggling player(s) should be given as long as possible to find form.
And the more they win, and the more players rise through slumps and rediscover form, the harder the team will be to beat and the more likely it will be that the self-delusion will start turning into reality.
Once the "impossible" starts to happen, the players will expect it to happen. This phenomenon characterised the great Australian team from the late-90s to mid-2000s. They won virtually everything, beat everyone, but you won’t believe how many times they were in deep trouble in Test matches, — most often against SA — when they’d be 100/5 and make 400, or reduce SA from 250/3 to 300 all out.
To some degree, this is where the current South African Test side is.
Dominating the world rankings by a record margin, unbeaten away from home for an astonishing 14 series spanning nine years — with a pair of series wins in England and Australia — the team has what the players like to call a "winning culture".
It is true they fought their way back admirably into the first Test after a grim batting display and had reached parity when the monsoon claimed the final two days in Chittagong.
But the effervescence of the squad in Dhaka before the second Test starting on Friday might suggest hosts Bangladesh had been on the ropes and lucky to escape a hiding.
That’s what really good cricket teams do. They forget AB de Villiers is not here and that Hashim Amla, Dale Steyn and Morné Morkel looked like impersonators of their great selves last week. Instead, they use a great record, the power of positive thought (and plenty of hard work) as fuel for the victory which lies ahead.
Picture: THINKSTOCK
DECEPTION is crucial to success in cricket. Bowlers are attempting some form of trickery all the time, even when it’s only line and length they’re after. There is always the hope that the batsman will be looking out for something different.
Batsmen do it, too, even if it’s only with body language.
If it wasn’t important then they would rub the bruise every time they were hit.
They feign attack to induce a bowling error and look nonchalant when a false shot reaches the boundary.
Even fumbling fielders pretend to have gathered the ball cleanly to trick the batsman into a risky run, although this tactic is officially frowned upon.
Yet cricketers can be forgiven for feeling confused at times. They are told to believe in themselves and then told to face up to reality and be honest about their individual or team frailties and failings. They are told it is a game between bat and ball, not reputations, when confronted with those of greater stature and record.
Cricketers are told to be positive, to hit the ball rather than defend it, to have faith in their pace and ability to find an outside edge even when all hope seems lost.
In short, they are asked just as frequently to practise self-deception rather than opposition deception. And as millions of retired cricketers will testify, they need it.
By commonly accepted standards, before T20, batsmen and bowlers were deemed to have "succeeded" if they scored 50+ or took four or more wickets. Which means the very best players over the past century were doomed to "failure" in somewhere between 80% and 95% of their visits to the crease.
If they weren’t able to kid themselves nobody would play the game very long.
The very best self-deceivers are the ones whose kidology is infectious enough to convince teammates low on esteem and self-confidence that their next big score or bag of wickets is also just around the corner.
A changeroom full of energetic self-belief is far more likely to succeed than one digesting the stark realities of the game.
It only lasts so long, obviously. If an out-of-form player’s bubble of self-delusion proves to be stronger than his results, it is for the coach or team selector to burst it.
But as long as the team’s win ratio is acceptable, the struggling player(s) should be given as long as possible to find form.
And the more they win, and the more players rise through slumps and rediscover form, the harder the team will be to beat and the more likely it will be that the self-delusion will start turning into reality.
Once the "impossible" starts to happen, the players will expect it to happen. This phenomenon characterised the great Australian team from the late-90s to mid-2000s. They won virtually everything, beat everyone, but you won’t believe how many times they were in deep trouble in Test matches, — most often against SA — when they’d be 100/5 and make 400, or reduce SA from 250/3 to 300 all out.
To some degree, this is where the current South African Test side is.
Dominating the world rankings by a record margin, unbeaten away from home for an astonishing 14 series spanning nine years — with a pair of series wins in England and Australia — the team has what the players like to call a "winning culture".
It is true they fought their way back admirably into the first Test after a grim batting display and had reached parity when the monsoon claimed the final two days in Chittagong.
But the effervescence of the squad in Dhaka before the second Test starting on Friday might suggest hosts Bangladesh had been on the ropes and lucky to escape a hiding.
That’s what really good cricket teams do. They forget AB de Villiers is not here and that Hashim Amla, Dale Steyn and Morné Morkel looked like impersonators of their great selves last week. Instead, they use a great record, the power of positive thought (and plenty of hard work) as fuel for the victory which lies ahead.
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