On the field, we appear to have lost sight of what makes us successful. And off it, we have spent more than 30 years failing to understand what makes people develop an attachment to the game in the first place.
Australia were smarter, more disciplined, and from what I saw, wanted the victory considerably more. That South Africa should have been beaten at their own game made the result particularly difficult to accept.
I played in teams where our bowlers hunted in packs, operating on two demanding lengths that continually tested a batter’s technique and courage. They maintained that examination across an entire series. It required fitness, patience, and a conviction that the opposition would eventually make mistakes. Batters knew what to expect even before they landed in South Africa.
Instead, here South Africa’s supposed spin threat offered Australia easy runs and match-winning ones. Singles came easily against fields that seemed unable to decide whether they were for protecting the boundary, cutting off single-taking, or taking wickets. Neither spinner could settle against a batter long enough to create doubt, and what was intended as an attacking selection was proved folly. Matt Renshaw and Nathan Lyon’s partnership exposed South Africa’s inability to finish the job and the consequences of getting their tactics wrong.
By the second innings, Josh Hazlewood needed little more than to hit the right areas and the wicket did the rest. There was considerable irony in watching Australia succeed with a method around which South Africa had built three decades of Test success at home. They had a clear plan and the discipline to stay with it, while South Africa proved soft and unwilling to guts it out.
Producing international cricketers is important, but creating a cricket-loving public is an altogether greater undertaking. The two are connected, but South Africa has concentrated too much on one while neglecting the other
However, in saying this, Rabada is central to any recovery and must bowl at genuine pace for sustained periods. His ability to bring the ball back in to right-handers, or take it away from left-handers from around the wicket, will expose Australia’s technical weaknesses. South Africa need the Rabada who runs in hard with an old ball, not one whose hostility comes in occasional bursts before fading when the ball loses its hardness. South Africa have the players to beat Australia but need to find the conviction to return to the methods that made our cricket successful.
The poor attendance at Kingsmead provided a reminder of how sport lives in the minds of 65 million South Africans. Cost of living, school examinations, unrest and timing may all have played a part in the shabby turnout, but I have little patience with how readily these excuses are accepted.
On the Saturday of the Test, within walking distance of Kingsmead, Orlando Pirates and Mamelodi Sundowns attracted a capacity crowd of around 50,000 to the MTN8 soccer final at Moses Mabhida stadium. Neither club was from Durban, yet supporters travelled considerable distances and paid R150 (about US$9) for general admission, the same starting price as that for a day’s cricket at Kingsmead.
Granted a football final and five days of Test cricket are different propositions, but the contrast was revealing. South Africans will travel, spend money and organise their lives around sport they care about. Cricket should be asking itself why it has failed to cultivate that attachment among so much of our population.
People acquire their sporting loyalties where they live, long before anyone asks them to buy a ticket for a national team’s game. Football has understood that for generations, while rugby has galloped past cricket in winning support across South African society.
Cricket, meanwhile, continues to expect affection from communities where playing the game mostly means leaving their neighbourhoods, getting access to expensive equipment and to facilities that scarcely exist locally.
This, I believe, is where our understanding of development has been fundamentally flawed. Producing international cricketers is important, but creating a cricket-loving public is an altogether greater undertaking. The two are connected, certainly, yet we have concentrated too much on one while neglecting the other.
Which brings me to something I see around Paarl that deserves far greater attention.
Tape-ball cricket has flourished across the Winelands for years, with local organisers reporting approximately 260 teams, more than 3000 registered players, and four leagues running competitions throughout the year. A major occasion can reportedly attract 3000 spectators. I have seen it.
Matches take place in open spaces between homes and informal settlements, sometimes on streets closed for the occasion. Children play without expensive personal equipment, within walking distance of their homes, while communities have developed their own teams, rivalries, personalities and competitions.
Here is an organised cricket movement attracting players and spectators without the facilities and funding enjoyed by the established game. I find the lack of formal recognition for these competitions extraordinary, particularly when they provide a compelling example of how cricket can become part of everyday community life. These children may never reach professional cricket, but many of them, their families and friends, will become supporters for life.
We need look no further than India, where tennis-ball and gully cricket are the lifeline of the game. Surely something similar here deserves encouragement rather than being treated as an outsider to conventional cricket?
It is no secret the traditional cricket-supporting population has diminished, and it is unrealistic to expect that shrinking constituency to sustain the game indefinitely. The numbers we need must come from the 54 million South Africans for whom cricket has yet to become something they feel belongs to them. Cricket must become accessible, affordable and regularly played within the communities whose support it hopes to earn. If the game remains out of sight, it will remain out of mind.
South Africa can still win this series, but it will require an honest acknowledgement of what went wrong at Kingsmead and a return to the methods that made our Test cricket so formidable.
Beyond the boundary, the challenge is considerably greater, but in Paarl there is a blueprint to roll out nationally. The uncomfortable question for CSA is no longer why people aren’t turning up to watch cricket, but why, after more than 30 years of non-racial cricket, so many South Africans still have so little reason to feel the game belongs to them.
You cannot expect people to support a game that has never become part of their lives, any more than you can expect those who have supported it for generations to remain loyal while being taken for granted.
Daryll Cullinan played 70 Tests for South Africa between 1993 and 2001