Once upon a time when the world was young, it was a point of debate whether keepers should ‘talk’. Talk meant just that. Should keepers talk to the batsman, about the weather, politics or the price of fish?
As a part-time keeper and a full-time loudmouth I have always talked. I welcome batsmen to the crease. I sometimes, with what I hope is obvious irony, let them know how prodigiously the ball is moving off the pitch. I have been known to point out a yawning gap at midwicket just begging for the heave across the line. And I always, but always, congratulate them when they heave one for six.
My purpose is first to have fun. I enjoy playing cricket and for me this adds to the enjoyment. But in an intense game I also like to sow seeds in a batsman’s mind, making them too confident in their own ability, perhaps, or getting them to think down lines that I would like them to think down.
Cricket is slow enough to invite such banter, and if a batsman enjoys it, then we’re both happy. If he asks me to shut up, I shut up. And if he heaves across the line and holes out, well, here’s a new batsman to chat with.
But such an attitude, it seems, is old hat. Talking is history. What’s in now is sledging. To sledge is to do anything you can to upset an opponent. Good international players began it and lousy club players have taken it up. It’s now par for the cricketing course for every level from schoolboys up. And here’s why it’s wrong.
Sledging is conflict. Cricket is a contest. The difference between a conflict and a contest is everything.
Conflict is for real. It arises from the animal urge to compete and to conquer. Conflict is common in human affairs because of the way we are. In its largest manifestation it is called war.
Sport is a parody of war. It is conflict that has been ritualised into a contest in which no one gets hurt. It’s the equivalent of play-fighting for a puppy. Through play-fighting, puppies learn bite inhibition and the canine code of conduct. Play-fighting teaches puppies to be adult dogs capable of living in dog society.
Cricket and other sports can do something similar for developing human beings. They provide a vent for the natural competitive urge but they teach the difference between doing it for real and doing it for pleasure. The effect is civilising.
Sledging is never civil. It introduces conflict into what is only a contest. It brings ill-feeling into a game that we play for pleasure. And it gets things out of proportion. Anyone who sledges is taking the game too seriously. He thinks it matters.
I don’t know why it’s called sledging. But I do know a couple of better terms for it. One is bad manners. And the other is cheating.