Underdogs at Lord’s, and the echoes at home

SO, HERE we are, the World Test Championship final got under way at Lord’s, the home of cricket, on Wednesday.

Die-hard cricket fans will have one eye on work and another on the social media updates that will be coming through over the course of the next few days.

Smoke breaks will be less about the nicotine nudge, and more directed to catching up with how the match is going, who’s on top, how “our boys” – from whichever team you’re supporting – are doing.

With history on the side of Australia – the two teams met at Lord’s back in 1912, and the Aussies beat South Africa by 10 wickets – they, in a sense, start this week's final as defending champions and warm favourites.

Yet, I get the sense that the Proteas are not averse to embracing the underdog status.

South Africa know they have a mountain to climb, with their only previous title being the ICC Knockout in 1998. It’s also worth considering that they are battling against some bad energy, with pundits all over convinced that they have not earned their place in the final, claiming that they took the easy route to Lord’s.

On top of that, the Proteas are facing a group of Baggy Greens who have been there and done it before.

They are seasoned veterans in this kind of game, knowing what to expect and how to handle the pressure. The core of their team is competing for a fourth world title across three formats in four years. Now that is a settled team!

But there’s more: Australia head into the contest with a potent blend of firepower and form – their world-class bowling attack is widely regarded as one of the best in the game’s history, while Steve Smith has rediscovered top form this year.

Add to that Travis Head, who has delivered consecutive match-winning centuries in his last two global finals, and one could seriously ask, who would bet against them?

Still, there’s something magnetic about a David vs Goliath clash. And for those who grew up playing the role of the underdog – whether by design or decree – it stirs a familiar sentiment.

Sympathy with the villains

As for me, I have the experience of being on the losing side. You see, I have an older brother.

When we were growing up, the kind of games we played – before digital entertainment was a thing – was to create figurines out of modelling clay. Either that, or we would sit with a huge sheet of paper between us, and draw.

What clay figurines, and what would we draw? Well, he would create the Allied armies and I would always be the Germans. Or he would be the cowboys, and I would be the “bandidos”. Even when we really upped our art skills, he would be the knights in their shining armour, and I would be the barbaric hordes.

In a loosely poetic nutshell: If there was a good guy to be, that good guy would be he.

The point is, big brother always had to win; that was the rule. So no matter how much I protested and complained, he would take me to the stack of encyclopedias and show me why I was the leader of the bad guys, so it was only fair for me to lose.

With a heavy sigh, I would reluctantly nod my understanding. Over time, I came to develop a sympathy, a soft spot, a sort of connection with the bad guys.

Which brings me back to the Proteas.

Do we have sporting heroes?

In sport, as in childhood games, who we see as “the good guys” often says more about us – and our experiences – than it does about the teams themselves.

A cold dose of reality would have us realise that the South African national cricket as well as rugby teams are still pretty unpopular in some communities in the country.

Just over a decade ago, there was a bit of a brouhaha over how many South Africans still support the All Blacks, for example.

IOL’s Mike Greenaway wrote a piece: “Why we support the All Blacks”, where he did a deep dive into the reasons why some communities don’t support the Boks, but are crazy about the New Zealanders.

As to the reasons for this All Black bias, Greenaway writes: “It includes the community feeling let down by the present-day South African Rugby Union, as well as the bare fact that the All Blacks play great rugby.”

He adds: “Of course there is the political aspect to it, dating back to the horrors initiated by Hendrik Verwoerd in the 60s. Naturally, the disenfranchised would support anyone but the sporting standard-bearers of apartheid, the Springboks, who better than anything reflected the white ‘elite’.”

This disillusionment stretches beyond rugby.

Communities feel betrayed

Greenaway also quotes Danville Felkers, then chairman of the Eastern Cape All Blacks supporters club, which had 3,000 registered members at the time.

Felkers’ reasoning reflects a feeling reverberating through many disadvantaged communities throughout South Africa.

“Rugby has died in the schools of the (poor) northern suburbs,” Felkers said, speaking about what was then still Port Elizabeth.

“And we have played rugby in this region forever. But we have no facilities. There has been no investment from Saru, no upliftment, and we feel let down.”

Felkers then continues, almost as a mouthpiece of the pro-All Black movement.

“We have kids who want to play rugby, but their parents cannot afford to send them to (white) schools such as Grey High. Those who stick it out have to come to our clubs,” he says.

“In our suburbs, we are crying out for sport to give our teenagers something to do, to keep them away from drugs and crime.

“Rugby can do that, but it hasn’t because the system has let us down.”

Rugby, certainly, but the same goes for cricket – and maybe the Proteas have it worse.

Though the Boks have managed to win over once-committed All Black supporters, the Proteas – with “that tag” we won’t mention, because it sticks in the throat – will struggle to rake in many defectors.

Focus on the moment

I can’t imagine how it must feel to be representing your country, and somewhere in the back of your mind is a small itch, a nagging thought that there are hordes of folk back home who have thrown their allegiance on the side of your opponents.

For young sportsmen, this cannot be pleasant.

But when the on-field umpire gives the signal, and the opening bowler charges in to deliver the first cherry of the day to the No 1 batsman, it’s about the moment.

Over the next five days, these young men – from both sides of the vast ocean – will have to be focused on the job at hand, making the most of what could be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

And perhaps, for the Proteas especially, the deeper triumph would be to inspire support that isn’t guaranteed. To change a few minds. To plant the idea that maybe, just maybe, this time the so-called villains are worth rooting for.

Because when you’ve always been cast as the underdog – the outsider, the baddie, the one expected to lose – there’s a special kind of magic in simply stepping up, holding your ground, and playing like you belong.