Unafraid of lighting the proverbial cauldron, David Warner last week gave life to a worst-case scenario in the ever-freezing pay stalemate between Cricket Australia and the Australian Cricketers’ Association. The inferred threat was simple: if the current model is not retained, we may not play. “The Bull goes bang,” said Ed Cowan in reference to Warner’s comments on Twitter, and it was indeed a statement of intent in keeping with someone called The Bull. It set in train a raft of hypotheticals that kept speculation bubbling: how would Ashes opponents England feel about it? Who would pay for lost revenue? Will we see Australian cricketers cross not only a picket-fence, but a picket-line to earn themselves a baggy green?
While Warner’s comments marked the highest-pressure point in an issue that shows no signs of abating, both sides have been quick to hose down the notion of either no Ashes, or an Ashes where England take on Australia’s best grade cricketers. A CA spokesman confirmed to Guardian Australia their confidence that “this negotiation will not affect any Australian cricket”. They were less the bullish words of a corporation in complete control than a conciliatory undertaking to assure the public that actual cricket isn’t under threat. Similarly, while the ACA has not publicly sought to dilute Warner’s boycott musings, privately they concede any cricket strike would be a disastrous result for them too. Both sides want cricket played, and remain acutely aware that any contrivance not to would be hugely damaging to all parties.
However, a packed Gabba on 23 November does not necessarily mean an memorandum of understanding will be in place. If the impasse continues beyond the 30 June deadline, Australian runs and wickets could still occur under short-term, essentially-workaround agreements. That “there are options” is a sentiment that echoes on both sides of the ledger, so it would appear that an agreed MOU – while preferred by both parties – is not a precondition for an Ashes series. We should see some cricket.
In the meantime, a curious public relations battle ploughs on. It’s a battle that has largely been drawn along top-line, almost clichéd political frames: CA as the union-busting corporate behemoth run by hawkish business types seeking maximum returns; the ACA as a proud collection of workers whose leaders champion solidarity, sacrifice and partnership in pursuit of a fair share. So far, the players’ resolve has been nothing if not impressive.
Across platforms, publications and pubs, their message has never wavered. They remain resolute that the revenue share model – whereby their fortunes rise and, as many seem to overlook, fall, with the commercial outcomes of the game – must be the mechanism used. It’s solidarity that is rooted less in commitment to coin than an insistence on status. And as the deadline looms on the current MOU, there are zero signs of relenting. Across the country, journalists are opening their contact books and combing the professional ranks for a mere hint of concern, or foot out of step. There are none, and it should stand to some reason. Australian cricketers are not, and don’t pretend to be, industrial relations experts. But their sport leaves them mentally prepared to recognise and handle a bit of gamesmanship when they see it. When it comes to ruthlessness and intimidation, sometimes it takes one to know one.
However in that context, Warner’s comments may not have delivered the wallop intended, but a slight miscue. As a leading Australian player – and one who would financially benefit from CAs proposal in the short-term – his preparedness to withdraw his labour in solidarity with his colleagues was undoubtedly noble. But in so colourfully articulating the prospect of a player strike during an Australian summer, he has risked the ire of a public largely without the time or inclination to study the fine details of an industrial relations dispute. Warner was trying to do the moral thing with good reason, but it will take a mountain of messaging to stop an increasingly headline-driven world from equating a player strike with player greed. It’s a scenario that would weaken the ACA’s position, and partly explains their attempts to reframe the conversation from one edging towards money back to principle.
Meanwhile, CA’s public silence remains slightly mystifying. They maintain it’s driven by a dignified commitment to avoid negotiation via media, but surely if you leave enough of a vacuum someone else will fill it. Perhaps the expanded media arm they’re planning makes sense after all. Surely, by proposing a fundamental change to the status of players in the game, it has been incumbent on them to carry the burden of explaining the rationale behind it. Because as the ACA pushes forward with public and cogent demonstrations of their very real influence and strength in these negotiations, 30 June is not far away and beyond vague-sounding promises of increased funding for grassroots cricket, the game’s administrative body remains hushed, oddly so. While they may feel entitled to greater control over the game’s finances – and have good reason to feel that way – their relative silence means the image of a hard-edged, uncompromising corporation prevails. Perhaps that’s how they like it, too.
