Up Above to Down Under

The evening of 6th January will be remembered for more than one reason; one particularly distasteful - The transmutation of Cricket from a gentleman's game to a gentleman's game (read: hunting with a pack of wild dogs). Never, in any international match, has the umpiring been so woeful, nay, foolish. Any idiot with half a brain and one eye could see the flaws in the decisions handed out by the two 'honourable' umpires.
Australia established a few enviable records in this match. They played 13 batsmen (one particularly jumpy species batted across three lives) in their first innings and the opposition played with just 8 (two of the best batsmen went back to the pavilion on the whim of the umpires). Finally the Australian team formed a huddle and jumped around like a bunch of cross-dressers who had been given free wonder-bras. Can you see the achievement, pride, joy and ecstasy in such a victory? Wow! So, this is Aussie pride eh? Niiice!
Let’s face it, the Aussies do not have the gonadal gumption to lose. Sure, if you are winning, you need not care about anything else. You can shove aside anyone (including the President of the BCCI, in India). There'd be no media asking you uncomfortable questions, no former players calling for your head, and no bad taste in your mouth. But true champions know that losses are part of the game - bound to happen - and that when they do, they must lose gracefully. Ponting and his boys just proved how brittle their existence is. They exist only because they win. Since their crushing loss to India (underdogs) in the T20 World Cup, they have been thirsty, almost rabid for revenge. They thought they could come to India and bully the Indians in their own backyard. That did not work, and the captain of the Australian team had to accept that India was better than them at the shortest form of the game. The expression on his face, during the awards ceremony, was almost as if he were forced to drink goat piss through a fresh umbilical cord.
The Australians have always been the worst losers in cricket. They think that it is their birthright to win and that everyone else plays to kill time. If they win, it is because they played flawless cricket. If they lose, it is because the pitches were doctored, the opposition captain was late for the toss, and their bus driver’s mother-in-law had a monkey in her apron (sorry, did I just say the ‘M’ word?) They can sledge and abuse the family tree of their oppositions, but if anyone from the opposition mentions any member of the animal kingdom, their pansy derrieres get sensitive. Their aggression is always 'hard and fair' and within boundaries, but if a young Indian boy decides to mirror it, they call for the head honchos to rein in him. If you’ve still not realized what this means, my dear chaps, this is racial behaviour –

The belief that one 'racial group' is inferior to another and the practices of the dominant group to maintain the inferior position of the dominated group; often defined as a combination of power, prejudice and discrimination.

Mr. Ponting, you may think that you and your team can do anything on or off the field, and get away with it on the merit of being the best cricketing team in the world? Listen carefully, because there’s news for you - India is not pushover material and, believe me, better men than you have tried and failed. We will not take your incessant boorish and uncouth behaviour lying down. You want to be aggressive, you silly little schoolgirl, you’ve got it. Two can play this game, and judging by the goings on, that game has already begun.
Australia was the country we were proud to play, beat and get beaten by. Aggression was a good word, a word we borrowed from the Aussie dictionary. We saluted your best teams - There was honour in it. Somewhere along the line your 'aggression' turned to ‘arrogance'. Now, after you have ripped the shitty facade from your face, Mr. Ponting, the world realizes why your country is called ‘Down Under’.