So this is how it ends. Not only with a whimper and the impotent shrugging of shoulders, but under thick globules of sponsored maximums, reflective uniforms and suffocating excess. Like geese with bloated livers we’ve had a thing we love stuffed down our throats so that there’s no room for nourishment. If this is indeed how South African Test cricket dies then let’s be quick about it.
Cricket’s landscape would be unrecognisable without South Africans. Not only have the Proteas provided some of the greatest exponents of the craft, but exports and expats have shaped the destinies of other nations as well. This is no bit-part player shuffling off the periphery. This is akin to a gigantic ice shelf collapsing into the Southern Ocean.
Why the doom and gloom? Cricket South Africa (CSA) has opted to send a weakened Test team to New Zealand in February in order to keep its star players at home for the SA20. The second edition of the franchise tounament, which runs from 10 January to 10 February, will overlap with the first of two five-day matches against the Black Caps.
That means Kagiso Rabada, Anrich Nortje, Aiden Markram and the Test captain, Temba Bavuma – who will all be involved in white-ball action against Australia starting on Wednesday, first with a T20 series before an ODI World Cup tune-up – will watch on as their deputies play the 2021 world Test champions. Even if they wanted to, the big names couldn’t travel. “That is a directive from CSA,” said the CEO, Pholetsi Moseki.
How did we get here? In a way, CSA had no other option. The board is guilty of maladministration in the past and a failure to compel a passionate support base to fill stadiums, but it is also a victim of the changing power dynamics over the past decade. In 2014, when the boards of India, Australia and England coalesced into the so-called “Big Three”, CSA’s then chief executive, Haroon Lorgat, stood against cricket’s Cerberus.
Now at the children’s table, and with diminished financial projections, CSA recognised it had to establish a domestic franchise league to rival the Indian Premier League and the Big Bash in Australia. The Global League T20 was set for launch in 2017 but failed to get off the ground, costing CSA an estimated US$15m. A year later, the Mzansi Super League was born but this was far from a show-stopping event. Hardly any foreign superstars joined the party. Barely anyone outside South Africa noticed it was happening.
Then the Covid pandemic hit and South Africa’s home series against England and Australia were cut short and cancelled, respectively. In the background, the Social Justice and Nation Building Hearings were uncovering the cancer of racism that had spread to every corner of the game. The men’s national team were without a title sponsor. Interest was waning. The last rites were being written.
A familiar saviour emerged. Graeme Smith, the most successful Test captain of all-time and the third-most prolific opener, arrived with a lifeline. A new tournament, the SA20, would inject much-needed funds into grassroots programmes and reach rural and underdeveloped areas. The money generated from gate receipts and merchandise would trickle down to schools and clubs that still play on sandy pitches with splintered bats and chewed-up balls. What’s more, that money would ensure the survival of the longest format. There was just one catch. The six city-based teams would be owned by foreign conglomerates that also owned IPL sides.
This Faustian pact has kept the lights on, but at a price. CSA is now no longer the master of its own destiny. Which would be tolerable if it had the same depth of talent found among the Big Three teams. It doesn’t. The Test team’s batting exploits over the past 18 months suggests they don’t even have seven men who can hack it against a swinging, seaming red ball.
This is not a whinge at modernity. Cricket is changing and the rise of the shorter formats has helped usher in new fans and increase engagement around the world. In other spheres of entertainment, tradition and progress exist simultaneously. You can watch a Marvel movie in the morning and catch a Shakespearean play in the evening. Taylor Swift hasn’t consumed the Philharmonic Orchestra. Video didn’t kill the radio star.
Cricket is not so fortunate, especially in those ecosystems that already scrape out an existence. There are no obvious bad guys here, at least none that will answer for their sins. A man bowls a ball. Another tries to whack it into orbit. Whatever guise this game takes, a South African will be involved.
But where does that leave the fans, those of us who not only fell in love with Test cricket but formed much of our identities around its customs and rhythms? Do we merely cling to the memories and be grateful for them? Are we supposed to accept that it’s over?
And what of the players? Their silence has been noted. One can sympathise with their desire not to bite the hand that feeds but something important is at stake. If we don’t act soon it may be lost for ever.
Perhaps that’s for the best. Maybe without the distraction of Test cricket, South Africa can finally win a World Cup. Maybe sponsored maximums whacked by sentient billboards can satiate the need for what we truly crave. We’ve asked for slow-cooked brisket and been served a stack of artery-clogging burgers. Let’s hope it doesn’t turn us off eating entirely.
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