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I shouldn’t have bet on New Zealand. I don’t
bet much, but World Cups are an exception. I made a couple of quid when the
Windies won the WT20 in 2012. I didn’t on England in 2010 – a wise old gambler
once told me: if you care about it, don’t bet on it.
New Zealand vs Australia was the best game of
the tournament. No, not Sunday’s one-sided anticlimax, the group game back in
February. It had everything. Attacking and defensive batting, tremendous swing
and spin bowling, tension, drama, 19 wickets and a knife-edge climax. All in
55.3 overs. To cap it all, the good guys won. The perfect ODI.
I’ve watched it four times already. Most recently
with my 12-year-old nephew, who didn’t know the result.
A right arm seamer with a naturally fluid
action, Jude is probably already a better cricketer than me. If he’s not now,
he will be soon. He’s been training with district coaches this winter, and if
he keeps playing as he gets bigger and stronger, he’s going to be a very decent
quick.
He is, self-confessedly, a less gifted bat.
We had a great discussion last weekend about number 11s, and just how crucial a
nought-not-out can be to keep an innings alive, so the guy up the other end can
get the runs. Then we settled down to watch Milne and Southee’s ducks to
spearing Starc yorkers, and Boult (the number 11 whose 5-27 had surely earned
him the right to put his feet up) survive the rest of the over so that
Williamson, the number three stranded up the other end, could hit the majestic,
nerveless straight six that won the game.
Boult is at the heart of my favourite World
Cup story, from the New Zealand Herald. His girlfriend is a pretty 24-year-old
blonde called Gert Smith. (Her real name is Alexandra, Gert is a family
nickname because her younger brother couldn’t say Alexandra. You like her
already, don’t you?) Gert is a primary school teacher in Tauranga, on the Bay
of Plenty. Since her charges have discovered that ‘Miss’ is going out with a
national sporting hero, she’s been bribing them. They get tokens for good
behaviour, and she’s promised that if they get to a hundred, Boult will come
and visit the class.
New Zealand nailed this World Cup. The way
they played, the way they were led, the way they behaved.
They had obvious respect for their opponents,
even as they went at them as hard as they could. Relentlessly aggressive, they
were never less than friendly. Committed and unified, they did not gloat or
goad, send-off or sledge. They played with character, won with humility, lost
with grace.
Unimpeachable role models for primary kids in
Tauranga, 12-year-olds in England, and doubtless thousands more across New
Zealand, they were terrific to watch.
I should not have bet on them because, the
more I watched them, the more I cared that they won.
Congratulations Australia. Dammit.
- ends 498 words -
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