It’s not just cricket

SYDNEY, Australia — Great national rivalries abound in the modern era, based on everything from religion and ideology to politics and economy: the U.S. vs. Russia, India vs. Pakistan, South vs. North Korea.

Yet few international rivalries can match the psychological intensity and petty one-upmanship that exists between Australia and England — and that’s only over sports. Or is it?

This weekend, cricket fans in this city of four million — and that’s not counting the swarms of transitory English backpackers on working visas — will be staying up late in bars, clubs or on a best mate’s couch to watch the last of five Test matches in the “the Ashes” series, the Holy Grail of the game of cricket. The match is being televised live from the Oval in London (although matches are often played at a ground called "Lord’s" — getting some idea of the stakes now?) To many a bemused foreign observer, cricket is a rather befuddling activity that follows an incomprehensible set of rules and can last far too long. Test matches last up to five days, and even then the result is often a draw. Then there are the regular mid-game pauses where players walk off the field for “drinks” and “tea.” In actual fact, cricket’s more than a bit like baseball — they both use bats and balls (although cricket also uses "bails" and "wickets"), both count scores in runs and both use "umpires" to adjudicate — but try telling that to the average American sports nut.

Back to the Ashes: This weekend, England must defeat Australia in the final game of this best-of-five series to wrest back the Ashes trophy (so named because it is reputed to contain the "bails" of the "wickets" burnt after the first Ashes Test).

When England got thrashed in the previous game, it was a cue for the entire nation to engage in predictable hand-wringing, self-pity and self-doubt.

“Are Australians perhaps kept tougher by their fearful climate, forest fires, crocodiles and poisonous spiders?” wondered Michael Portillo, a high-profile former Conservative Party lawmaker, writing in The Sunday Times.

The English, like many other nationalities, tend to regard Australians with fascination — and even surreptitious admiration. The stereotype lingers that Aussies are a nation of Steve Irwins — hardy, rugged folk who are plain-spoken to the point of being uncouth. This image is perpetuated in iconic films such as "Crocodile Dundee" and the sun-baked, beach-fringed island continent featured in tourism advertisements.

While Australia’s population is in fact highly urbanized and lives mostly along the coasts, its sports heroes sustain the stereotype with their take-no-prisoners approach. Australian cricketers are renowned as world champion “sledgers” — slang for on-field trash-talk. A few weeks ago, English newspapers published a leaked dossier by ex-Australian player Justin Langer which contained pen portraits of the English players and claimed they were mentally weak.

“As soon as it gets a bit hard you just have to watch their body language and see how fat and lazy they get,” Langer wrote. “Most of them make all sorts of excuses and start looking around to point the finger at everyone else. It is a classic English trait from my experience.”

It doesn’t help that the English make easy targets. Despite having invented the game of cricket, they’ve won only 96 Ashes series’ to Australia’s 122. This year was the first time England had won an Ashes Test at its spiritual home ground, Lord’s, in 75 years.

And even their most ardent English patriot suspects that the nation that once controlled a large chunk of the world, under the auspice of the British Empire, has seen its best days. 

Sure, England’s crowds — led by the ever boisterous “Barmy Army” — are not shy about hitting back with their own anti-Australian chants. To mention but a few:  “You all live in a convict colony” (to the tune of “We all live in a yellow submarine”), or “You pour, we drink” — a reference to the many Australian expats who take low-paying bar tending jobs in London.

Yet as Nick Bryant, the BBC’s Sydney correspondent admits: “[These songs] now reveal more about our own national insecurities than yours."

If Australians used to think of England as the “Mother Country,” to many these days it is more like an ailing mother-in-law. An irritating and somewhat batty old relative who does nothing useful but watch old re-runs of "Coronation Street;" yet somehow the sentimental tug of old ties prevents the cord from being cut completely.

Australia remains a constitutional monarchy with Queen Elizabeth as its sovereign — more than two centuries since it was settled and 108 years since it became a fully-fledged nation. In 1999, a national referendum on whether Australia should become a republic was defeated, with 55 percent voting “no.”

Despite its support for a republic, the newly-elected Labor government has no plans to hold another referendum in its first term. Many believe that realistically-speaking, the issue is off the agenda until the widely-respected Queen either passes away or transfers the throne to her son, Prince Charles. Julian Tol, a national committee member of the Australian Republican Movement told GlobalPost that Australians tended to be politically apathetic. “I think it’s a luxury we have in Australia. We fortunately tend to be fairly well-fed and we live in a strong, prosperous nation, so the usual reasons for changing a political system are out.”

He added: “Hopefully, we can still reform from a position of strength."

Thomas Flynn, executive director of Australians For Constitutional Monarchy, pointed to Australia’s history of peaceful government. “Constitutions are not like cartons of milk or eggs. They don’t have a sell-by date. The Australian constitution works,” he said.

All of which suggests that England and Australia, despite their mutual jealousy, resentment and historical baggage, look destined to stagger grudgingly into the sunset. In this wide, brown land, the mobs prefer to watch (and win at) cricket, rather than eat cake.