When a team has won an ‘amazing’ (©Kevin Pietersen) victory against their greatest rivals, the vanquished usually try to make themselves feel better by accusing the victors of arrogance and/or over exuberance. I propose we don’t even give the Aussies that. Let’s be as magnanimous as possible.
Sure we’ll dance around like we’ve won the lottery in private, and sing the Mitchell Johnson song boisterously (relishing every letter in the word ‘shite’), but in public it’s important to show the Aussies how a cultured society celebrates a fine achievement … don’t you know old chap.
I’m not proposing that England fans should don monocles and sip mineral water all night (we all know it won’t be long before you crack open that bottle of absinthe you’ve been saving), but when you see your Aussie friends and colleagues over the next few days, offer a few consoling words, mention how well Michael Clarke spoke in the post-match interviews, and emphasise the positive aspects of Australia’s team … if you can think of any.
We suggest you exaggerate how impressed you were by Usman Khawaja’s mammoth knock (of what was it, about 32?) in the first innings, and claim that Steve Smith’s half-century in the second innings showed signs of real promise for the future – even if you know, deep down, that any half decent tailender can have an effective slog in a lost cause (there is, after all, no pressure).
If you adopt this approach, you might get away with patronising your Australian contemporaries without them realising it – and even if they suspect you’re being insincere, they won’t be certain enough to hold it against you.
The reason why we’re suggesting restraint at this juncture is simple. We did all the gloating we needed to after Melbourne. Let’s not become as repetitive as an Australian chorus of ‘Aussie, Aussie, Aussie, Oi Oi Oi’. Let’s mix things up a bit.
With Australia’s best batsmen on the verge of retirement, and their youngsters looking like poor versions of Mark Lathwell, there’s every chance we’ll dominate Australia for years to come. We don’t want to become boring, do we?!
Before the next series, avoid predicting a 5-0 whitewash. Instead you should extol the virtues of Peter George and Clint MacKay, or whichever losers the new Aussie Chairman of Selectors, probably Dame Edna Everage (she/he couldn’t do a worse job), comes up with. Insist that it will be a close series, and that Mitchell Johnson’s tattoos are works of art.
Nobody will believe the latter, but you might just fool the Australian public into thinking they’ve got a chance. Then, when England win by an innings in four of the five tests (one will surely be rained off), the Aussie hacks will get stuck into their team again … they might even proclaim they’re the worst since the last Ashes series.
But we’re getting ahead of ourselves now. Let’s savour this particular victory first – and let’s do it in the best possible way. The Aussies want you to act like a gloating maniac at this point, so don’t do it. Don’t let them walk away self-righteously, and a little hypocritically, muttering that all Poms are obnoxious arrogant morons.
If you’re out on the town and you want to make random Aussies bitter, act all sweetness and light. Then have a good laugh when their backs are turned … preferably within earshot, but far enough away to claim you were laughing at something else – perhaps an episode of TV’s greatest blunders that you saw the other night.
The fact that the sketch you’re referring to was the one where Shane Watson comically runs out his batting partner (again), and that you were the one who submitted the tape, will be lost on the unsuspecting Bruce or Sheila.
James Morgan
