Aussies love an underdog — until they become the top dog | Graham Cornes

We like to think we are an egalitarian society, when in reality we are increasingly a population of haves and have-nots, writes Graham Cornes.

One of the great Australian traits is that we love an underdog. The battler, the youngster or the previously anonymous sportsperson, often gets our sympathy vote. Even subconsciously, we will them to succeed.

Never was this more obvious than in the recently concluded test match between Australia and the West Indies in Brisbane. The unofficial “pub test” had Aussie sporting fans divided as to the desired outcome.

Unofficially, more than half of us were quietly barracking for the West Indies!

There was no doubt that a foray into controversial politics and other social issues has alienated some, but Australia was the giant of world cricket – the top dog – while the Windies were very much the underdog. And don’t Australians love the underdog.

But not too much.

Because once the underdog becomes the top dog – as the Aussie cricket team now is – we tear them down. That’s a less pleasant Australian characteristic. What is it about our Australian psyche that wants to chop down the tall poppy?

Why would so many Australians want our Aussie team to be beaten?

It could be jealousy.

We like to think we are an egalitarian society, when in reality we are increasingly a population of haves and have-nots.

Shamar Joseph of the West Indies bows to the spectators while walking from the field after taking 5 wickets at Adelaide Oval. Photo by Paul Kane.

Sport was once the great equaliser but now professional sportspeople earn fabulous wages. They climb from their humble beginnings and join the ranks previously only occupied by those from families of wealth and influence. We still love them – but not if they get too big for their boots, or too rich.

The phenomenon was evident in the Australia versus West Indies Test in Brisbane. For so long now the West Indies have been the easy-beats of Test cricket. The dominant days of a Clive Lloyd-led team which was comprised of the greats of the game have long gone.

Memory may be distorted by nostalgia but were there any greater players in the game? The batsmen: Richards, Haynes, Greenidge, and later Lara and Chanderpaul, tore opposition attacks apart with class and confidence that bordered on arrogance.

But it was the bowlers who did the damage. Marshall, Holding, Ambrose, Walsh, Garner and Roberts terrorised opposing batsmen, seemingly with murderous intent. There was vitriol in the delivery. Gone was the goodwill that accompanied Sir Frank Worrell’s touring team of 1960-61.

We fell in love with Calypso cricket over that summer of 60-61, which included Test cricket’s first tied match, at the Gabba. Worrell’s words tell the story of the reception he and his players were given in a farewell parade. He gives the reason so many of them were wearing dark glasses as they prepared to leave Australia after the final Test match in Melbourne: “the statement which was quite frequently made and which brought a lump to my throat and tears to my eyes was: ‘Come back soon.’…I can’t tell you how overwhelmed the boys and I were. I can tell you tears came easily in that extraordinary procession – and I couldn’t be bothered wiping them away – and I wasn’t the only one. It was incredible”, said Worrell, a statesman of the game who three years later would be knighted for his services to cricket.

Never had a visiting opposition sports team been received and farewelled with such genuine affection. They were the underdogs. They weren’t arrogant. And the contest went down to the last session of the fifth Test in Melbourne. Australia won that incredible series but over 60 years later it is still talked about. We’ve always loved the underdogs.

However, the love only lasted until they started to consistently beat us. There were no farewell parades and tears farewelling Clive Lloyd’s teams through the ensuing decades of West Indian domination.

Shamar Joseph of the West Indies dismisses Josh Hazlewood of Australia, sealing a win for the West Indies during day four of the second cricket Test match between Australia and West Indies at the Gabba in Brisbane. Photo by Pat Hoelscher.

However, West Indian cricket has seriously declined since those halcyon days. There is no single reason for that, rather a combination of factors: maladministration; the complications bringing together 13 different countries and 20-odd territories; competition from other well-paid sports; the lure of bigger dollars from T20 competitions; even a new generation of indolent youth, have all contributed to the demise of West Indian cricket.

So the criticism that spewed from the very top when it was announced that the West Indies would play the first of their two Australian Tests in Adelaide bordered on hysteria.

It is true that the scheduling was appalling and starting on Wednesday was simply ridiculous but unexpectedly there was an immediate affection for the visitors. Maybe it was because they didn’t pose a threat.

Most notable was their enthusiasm and endeavour in the field. Then a previously unheard-of youngster, Shamar Joseph, raised eyebrows. With the bat, his 36 contributed to a 53-run, last-wicket stand; then with ball in hand, he ripped through the Australian top order.

Travis Head saved Australia and the match was over in two and a half days but as silly as it may seem, it wasn’t completely one-sided. There were glimmers of optimism; there was something likeable about these Caribbean cricketers. The underdogs were winning us over. And who was this Shamar Joseph?

The ensuing Test in Brisbane was more than a cricket match, it was an exercise in social dynamics and an example of the fickleness of patriotism. We Australians were divided. As they had done 63 years ago the West Indian cricketers worked their way into our sporting hearts and for a brief time we forsook our Aussie Test cricketers.

And who was this Shamar Joseph? Needing to retire hurt the previous day and barely able to walk on the morning of the final day after having his big toe squashed by a Mitchell Starc sandshoe-crusher, it seemed impossible that he could bowl in Australia’s second innings.

But he swallowed the painkillers, walked to the top of his run, ignored the pain and proceeded to dismantle the Australian batsmen. Taking 7-68, he led the West Indies to a most unlikely win. In the process he worked his way into our sporting hearts.

The legend of the young aspiring cricketer from a remote village in Guyana who practised his craft bowling taped balls, oranges, lemons and even coconuts, will be told often. It gives inspiration to young people that the dream is never out of reach.

Sure, he had mentors along the way and people who recognised his talent and gave him unexpected opportunities, but the important thing is that he took those opportunities – all the while smiling broadly.

It’s likely we will see Joseph again in Australia in the shorter forms of the game. He is now hot property in cricket but he will never again be the unknown underdog, who steals our Australian sporting hearts.

In the meantime, this unexpected loss may have served the Australian team a dose of reality. We’ve had our brief fling with the West Indies but our true love is with the Australian Test team.

If nothing else, Mitch Marsh’s brilliant acceptance speech of the Alan Border Medal reminded us of that.