Not so much as it turned out.
In fairness to the Proteas, this was not their typical choke. As described on this blog before, those involve chasing modest totals,
Wednesday’s performance set a whole new standard, as far as choking goes: dimwitted strategy, superstitiously adhered to, combined with determination gone wrong to produce a brew extremely toxic to any Protea.
Before Wednesday, the Proteas only choked setting a total once: in the 2007 World Cup semi-final against Australia. Until today, this writer was sure that that was a special case: paying it backward for the famous 438 victory, as it were. To recap: the 2007 World Cup found the Proteas ranked second in ODIs, after spending much time at lower rankings, and in the same group as the then-still-world-beating Australians. The group match, the first match between the teams after the 438 victory, was an utter disaster for the Proteas: the Australians batted first and the Proteas had one of their worst days in the field ever. To add insult to injury, their fans kept chanting 438, as the Australians scored about 50 runs too many, courtesy of sloppy Protea fielding. As happens all too often, the Protea chase was effectively over by the time the first wicket fell. Then came the semi-final. The Protea brains thrust, assuming brains is not too strong a word, decided that an all out assault was the way to go. Amazingly wickets falling did nothing to slow the reckless batting. The scoring only slowed when the Proteas finally ran out of batsmen. Until Wednesday, I thought that was just a once off brain freeze. Silly me.
But that is just one factor is the epidemic of choking that is the Protea approach to ICC silverware. I once thought the “If Plan A isn’t working we do Plan A HARDER” approach was a unique to the Springboks. It’s time to admit that it may be a general South African problem. Notice how the Proteas bowled to short in their first game of the current tournament against India. You’d think that somewhere around the 150/1 mark somebody would say: “Hey, Skip, perhaps we should try something different…” No such chance. Even after the game Protea captain AB de Villiers insisted that you don’t want to bowl to full to these sub-continental teams – they might hit you down the ground. The fact that in the very next game, against another sub-continental team, Pakistan, the Proteas bowled full and won comfortably, raises one of two possibilities: either De Villiers was lying through his teeth, or, worse, he had his brain parked in neutral, and was simply repeating the coach’s game plan. “Yes, Coach. Sure, Coach. What tooth brush should I use today, Coach?”
The truth is that the Proteas have not shown any ability to respond to either opportunity or challenge once they are on the field of play, going back at least to the captain whose name shall not be mentioned. Shaun Pollock always gave the impression his bowling changes had been worked out the day before, and NOTHING was going to change it. Graeme Smith, in fairness, does a fair bit of homework, before coming up with his game plan. But once he’s done, no on-field event seem to affect the smallest change in the plan. And now De Villiers continues this cast-in-stone approach. Perhaps it’s time to get rid of the coach, altogether. Time to man up, and wake up, Skip. Tells us what you think. Take all the time you need.
The final factor that came into play today may be the Proteas’ determination not to choke backfiring. Determination is usually empowering. But it is a fine line between determination and obsession. And obsession is debilitating. Protea obsession was once defined by a certain blonde Australian spin bowler. Every time the Proteas headed Down Under, we were assured that this time they would sweep pesky boy out of the attack. Dimwit spoiler alert: tell one of the game’s most intelligent players ever what shot you will be looking to play against him. Oddly enough, each time the Proteas showcased their inability to play spin, while Shane Warne built a formidable reputation. By the end of it, no Protea batsman was more obsessed with succeeding than Darryl Cullinan. And the more obsessed Cullinan became, the easier it became for Warne to toy with him. The reason is simple: the more obsessed a batsman gets, the less he is able to play his natural game.
Given all of the above, how will the Proteas ever break out of the choke-hold? At this rate, one fears, it is destined to take a very long time. One senses it will take a team of youngsters, almost no-hopes, who will do the least to raise expectations. A team that plays an instinctive game, as opposed to the planned to the last detail approach of the current squad. Finals are won by moments of individual brilliance. Individual brilliance, by definition, can’t be planned in advance. Above all, it may take a team that don’t take themselves too seriously. And knowing how to have some fun out there, can only help.
Look no further than said 438 game for how this can be done. In the run up to the game, as they were preparing their plans, there is no way the coaching staff could have known the Proteas would be chasing a score well above 400. A case of no strategy is good strategy? If the coaching staff came up anything inspiring to say at the innings break, it has not made the headlines. So how did the Proteas do the impossible?
Recall that the bulk of the runs that day, 175 of them, were scored by one Herman Herschelle Gibbs, as spontaneous a player as ever to present his country. A man who don’t do much strategy. Or thinking for that matter. A man who does not allow determination to interfere with his ability to enjoy his game.
Or consider the disastrous Protea campaign at the 1999 World Cup. Most fans recall, painfully, the run out that ended that campaign. In truth, the campaign was a complete mess all the way through, the fine efforts of Lance Klusener at No. 9 notwithstanding. If your No. 9 is outscoring all other batsman, chances are the top order are not doing their job. If he does it consistently throughout an entire tournament, it suggests major issues. If you are successfully chasing totals, but winning by a single wicket, it is easy to see that it is just a matter of time before your luck runs out. That it did at the worst possible time is only true because the Proteas didn’t make the final. Imagine if the run out had cost us the Cup…
It is also worth remembering that at the time the Proteas actually had a brain thrust worth the name: Cronjé-Woolmer. At the height of their success, as later events would prove. And yet, at the time the brain thrust produced a strategy that saw Mark Boucher coming in as a pinch-hitter at No. 3. Worked great against the Cambridge 3rd XI, but somehow not so much against international teams. If Cronjé-Woolmer couldn’t get it right, there is no reason I would expect any combination of Arthur/Van Zyl/Kirsten/Domingo-Smith/De Villiers/Amla/Du Plessis to get it right. Having the captain adjust the strategy, as the game unfolds makes more sense than expecting the “brain thrust” to figure it all out in advance.
So, relax, AB. Trust yourself. And your team. Occasionally ask yourself if the coaching staff know what the @#$% they are talking about. Come up with a Plan B, if only to keep your mental faculties in a working order. Just in case. Get back to enjoying the game – the way you appear to enjoy playing in the IPL. Sometimes simpler is better.
