I recall the first time I heard it: It was after South Africa had just lost for the first time at the 1992 World Cup, to New Zealand. I guess after the win against Australia (considered favorites at home), the loss was a bit hard to explain for the various commentators. There was only one explanation of how our boys went from giant-slayers to below par in three days: the lack of a spinner in the attack. On the other hand, was Australia not conquered without a spinner?
Thus Omar Henry got his first taste of international cricket, in a brief career that included only three ODIs and tests. It made no difference: two days later South Africa got trounced by Sri Lanka. So much for spin.
Or so you’d think. Somehow, the we-lack-a-spinner theory survives beyond logic or reason, rearing its head anytime our boys show an extended lack of form, in other words anytime they loose two or more games in a row. Or
Several spinners have had long careers in the South African team thanks to this theory. For their part the knowledgeable commentators bend over backwards to stress the impo(r)tance of having someone who can tie up an end while the strikers rest up. Here’s a question for the experts: Shouldn’t we rather have someone taking wickets while the strikers rest up?
Most notably Nicky Boje got the job of vice-captain, before the South African selectors realized that while Boje had an acceptable record at Newlands and St. George’s Park (average of 36,56), his record at South Africa’s pace friendly venues (aka everywhere else) was below par (averaging an embarrassing 67,12).
Amazingly the spin about spin continues unperturbed. In a column on Cricinfo (27 September 2006) Neil Manthorp reincarnates the theory. A study in contradiction, Manthorp’s column mentions that both post-isolation South Africa and England in the 2005 Ashes rose to the second rated test cricket team by using a four man pace attack. Manthorp describes this as the harder way of getting to second best, without explaining what is so hard about it.
In fact, the 2005 Ashes proves the exact opposite: there was Shane Warne, arguably the best spin bowler ever, unable to win the series for his team. Question for Manthorp: if Shane Warne was not good enough to rescue Australia (of all teams), how good is a spinner going to be if he has to rescue the current group of inconsistent players affectionately known as the Proteas? Would twice as good as Warne be good enough? Trice? Four times? Calling Clark Kent…
There is another problem with Manthorp’s theory: there is no better way to destroy a young sportsman’s career than to subject it to the strain of unrealistic expectations. Imagine that South Africa manages to unearth a spin bowler of rare talent. Just how is young Mr. Somebody supposed to deal with the fact that all and sundry expect him to win test series and one day games (including World Cups) all by himself?
The answer, of course is that he won’t. Soon enough, he will crack under the pressure. Manthorp and his wise colleagues will conclude that Somebody just was not good enough, and that the search continues. It is easy to see how this becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy: we just don’t have a good enough spinner. Somebody almost made it, but right now Nobody is good enough.
In the mean time, we can’t expect the poor Proteas to win anything of note. As Manthorp asserts: South Africa “will never again challenge for a top place until they find a really good spinner”. This is dangerous territory: it absolve all and sundry of any responsibility. Think Coach Mickey Arthur didn’t do a good job? Of course not, it’s the spinner. Think Graeme Smith lost the plot? No man, it’s the spinner! Selectors got it wrong? Does not matter, we don’t have a superhuman spinner!
In reality, South Africa’s loss to Australia follows a pattern well established during the last few weeks: Win one, loose one. The only games that did not fit this pattern were the wins against minnows Scotland and Ireland. On top of that, as the tournament went on the margins for the wins got bigger. Unfortunately, so did the margins of the losses.
One can also correlate the inconsistency of individual players to the overall team inconsistency. AB de Villiers stands out, with four ducks, 15 (twice), 42, 62, 92 and 146. Or how about Mark Boucher: two ducks, 12, 16, 22, 52, 75. Among the bowlers, stalwart Shaun Pollock deserves mention: in the games against serious opposition his economy was a reasonable 4.3 per over (even with 8.3 conceded against Australia). But he took only four wickets in six games, hardly enough for a frontliner. And it should be pointed out that his economy was achieved by not bowling in the slog overs. He does not bowl during the last five overs due to, you guessed it, inconsistency. And lest we forget, the man who did not bother to be inconsistent, but rather was consistently awful: Makhaya Ntini.
When key players show such inconsistency (or bad form) one can only conclude that the problem is motivation. Keeping the team motivated, is of course, a management problem. It is the job of captain and coach, but also team management. It is here that Australia outclassed South Africa most embarrassingly: Ricky Ponting was streets ahead of Smith, the hare-brained scheme to hit Glenn McGrath and co out of the attack tells you how realistic Arthur’s threat to John Buchanan was.
But the biggest difference is between Australia’s professional management by Cricket Australia and the inept finger-pointing approach adopted by the intellectually-challenged (but hard drinking) Cricket South Africa. Will this ever change? Put it this way: Don’t hold your breath.
