The mark of the man
R Mohan
Had Mark Taylor been the type to gloat over success, he would probably have climbed the Blue Mountains near Sydney and shouted from the top of the Bridal Veil falls that he is among the best captains that Australian cricket has seen.
It is, however, far more likely that Taylor went home from the
match ceremony at the 'Gabba without so much as a smile, lest anyone mistake it for smug satisfaction. He may certainly have privately celebrated the return to form with a glass of Australian Chablis (as good as French wines these days).
But then, he deserved to
do so, did he not?
Hitting critics for a well struck six is a common enough occurrence in world cricket. All class players do this often enough to make the occupants of press boxes squirm a bit. Critic-bashing must have been particularly satisfying for Taylor, if only because he had more than a fair share of those who called him all kinds of things in the days when the runs had dried up a bit.
The attacks on Taylor, inspired by Ian Chappell and the Channel
Nine covey of ex-captains, did sometimes appear to cross the borders of acceptable criticism. A sub-continental type of emotional impatience could be seen in it. Otherwise, why would anyone go to town on a skipper who had taken Australia to the top of the Test ladder of merit?
Since in beating the West Indies at home, Taylor had also achieved
what Allan Border had not, there was really little reason to keep
slamming the man. It is not to be forgotten that he had earlier surpassed Border
in grabbing the Sir Frank Worrell Trophy in the Caribbean.
The chorus of criticism was so well picked up that the senior
Waugh also got into the act of questioning the credentials of
Australia's Test skipper. The erosion of authority inside his
own team was something Taylor would have feared far more than his
own poor form, which was bound to turn as it invariably does in
the case of quality players.
The critics put two and two together and called it 22, and Taylor
was the skipper who could have been facing a rebellion. It was
not as if he was in charge of a sinking ship and so had to own
up the responsibility for the loss of collective team form and
resign. After all, his team did retain the Ashes after being one
down.
All Taylor really needed was a home series in which to put his
own batting right. The horrors may have been mitigated somewhat
by Fleming asking Australia to bat first. There were going to be no more building of butterflies in the stomach. Taylor strode out
with a sense of determination that could be seen in his eye.
While the media favourites crashed one by one to fancy shots on
a pitch with a bit of juice in it, Taylor was the traditional
Test opener who could do no wrong. One slice of fortune was certainly
his in a dropped catch. But beyond that, his batting was a lesson
in the virtually disappearing art of traditional Test match batting.
He played nothing that he did not have to, and he was quick to
pounce on anything that was short and/or wide. It was an innings
which settled the innings, and probably decided the Test match.
Coming on top of the century for which he worked so hard, his sure catching decisively tilted the balance against a New Zealand side which displayed a spark or
two in the first innings. You do not associate great athleticism
with someone like Taylor. But to see him get to the snicks and edges
at slip with time to spare was to watch a top class Test performance.
The Australian selectors would be doing Taylor a disservice if
they were to go ahead with their plan of increasing specialization,
by which Steve Waugh would lead the one-day side. On the lively
wickets Down Under, they would need an opener who can anchor the
innings much as Geoff Marsh used to do in his time.
Was there anyone who said Taylor is not the inspiring captain
he was generally seen to be until the day the Sri Lankans proved
too mighty for the Aussies in Lahore last year? To give the quality
player some breathing space is a wise thing to do in high-stress
international sport. In the success that he has achieved over
time, Taylor simply proves that class is permanent while form
is temporary.
R Mohan
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