Alex Carey and the (small) matter of legacy ~ Malinda Words

The Australian wicketkeeper across all formats and the vice-captain of the ODI side Alex Tyson Carey has a lot of cricket left in him. Just 31 years old, he has scored almost 1,000 runs in 22 tests at an average of 34.51 and has a century and five half centuries to his credit. Seven 50s and a century in 64 ODIs at an 87.92 strike rate means he’s an integral part of Australia’s white and red ball cricket teams. Barring injury and a significant dip in form he should play for a few more years as well.

What would he be remembered for, though?

Let’s take a stab at that question later. I am thinking of two individuals right now, a cricketer and a politician, Trevor Chappell and Mahinda Rajapaksa respectively. Let’s start with the latter.

In the year 2010, the day after Mahinda Rajapaksa began his second presidential term, I wrote an article titled ‘Thanks and good luck Mr President.’ It was about the kind of legacy he could leave behind. Here’s a quote:

‘He has shown he can handle pressure. He knows how to win over his enemies. He knows how to deal with those he cannot win over. He can be firm to the point of being seen as brutal and unforgiving but in this he is no worse than the next politician. He has one enemy. A formidable one. An enemy he should be wary of and watch out for every wakeful moment. An enemy he should never underestimate for he could do so only at his own peril. Mahinda Rajapaksa’s biggest enemy is himself.’

The legacy of his presidential terms is mixed, ‘mixed’ being a rather generous term.

People leave legacies. They are remembered not for all they’ve done or achieved but sometimes for some specific thing, typically that which is considered ignoble. In Rajapaksa’s case it’s many things. In the case of Trevor Chappell, one.

The achievements of the Australian cricketer Trevor Chappell are nothing compared to those of his illustrious brothers Ian and Greg. Three tests and 20 ODIs with batting averages of 15.80 and 17.61 respectively don’t add up to ‘legend’ even if you consider the fact that he was a brilliant cover fielder and scored an ODI century. He’s remembered though. He is remembered for something he would have wanted to forget but probably cannot and will not be allowed to.

Trevor Chappell is most remembered for his involvement in the infamous last-ball underarm delivery, which he was instructed to bowl by Greg Chappell against New Zealand's Brian McKechnie in Benson & Hedges ODI in February 1981 at the MCG to effectively ensure that it won’t be carted for a game-winning six.

Trevor rolled the ball along the pitch and McKechnie lobbed away his bat in frustration. The crowd booed. Trevor would later admit that although he thought it was a good idea at the time, he knew it wasn’t in the spirit of the game. His brother would recall that it was only when a little girl ran up to him, tugged on his sleeve and said ‘you cheated,’ that he realised [the decision and consequences] were bigger than he had expected.

Legacy you would not want to be associated with, then.

Back to Alex Carey. A few days ago, England were fighting to keep the Ashes alive on the last day of the second test. Skipper Ben Stokes was out there in the middle with Jonny Bairstow. England were still quite a distance from the target, but with these two in the middle there was reason to be optimistic. Then it happened.

Bairstow ducked under a short ball from Cameron Green, scratched the crease with his boot and walked down the pitch towards his partner. The ball not being dead, technically, Carey, who had collected the ball on the bounce under-armed a throw at the striker’s end. The on-field umpires referred it to the TV umpire who ruled Bairstow out. The Australians were booed until and after they won the test, surviving a belligerent onslaught by a clearly livid Stokes.

Later, in his column for the Daily Mail, Stuart Broad who replaced Bairstow at the crease, expressed surprise that none of the senior Australians had reflected on what had happened. Instead they took refuge, it seems, in the technicality. The rule. The rule book. In ‘rules are rules, so there!’

Greg knew almost immediately that he had erred in terms of upholding the spirt of the game. Trevor knew even as he bowled the delivery. That single moment tainted them both. Legacy. Legacy you cannot feel proud about.

Mahinda Rajapaksa has not shown remorse and maybe he never will. Maybe it will not haunt him. It’s part of his legacy, though. Same as Trevor’s and Greg’s.

Alex Carey may notch up many batting and keeping records. He may end up as one of the greatest wicketkeeper batters, although he doesn’t have too much time to get there. He may one day express regret. He may not. Either way, this act, within the rules of the game but in violation of its spirit, will be part of his legacy.

No one is unblemished and therefore it would be harsh to pick on the warts, but it is good to know that one moment of weakness can leave a scar that cannot be erased.

Even in an unforgiving world there would be some who would forgive if the person involved is remorseful about the particular transgression. Consolation, true, but it’s still better than sustained damnation. Trevor and Greg have moved on. Cricket has moved on. The underarm delivery is mentioned but not to the exclusion of all other achievements. May this be true of Alex Carey too. One day.

malindadocs@gmail.com

['The Morning Inspection' is the title of a column I wrote for the Daily News from 2009 to 2011, one article a day, Monday through Saturday. This is a new series. Links to previous articles in this new series are given below]

04 July 2023

Alex Carey and the (small) matter of legacy

0 comments: