The art of noise

GLENN MCGRATH was enjoying himself. Australia were totally in control of their match with Zimbabwe and the world’s best fast bowler was relishing his customary task of mopping up the tail — the weakest of the remaining batsmen — these were easy wickets for McGrath.

The rabbit currently transfixed in his headlights was Eddo Brandes, a chunky chicken farmer from Mashonaland who had barely managed to survive the first few balls the fearsome McGrath had fired his way.

In he steamed once more and unleashed a vicious delivery which reared up at Brandes' head, causing him to stumble awkwardly and collapse on the ground.

Immediately, a chorus of jeers went up from the surrounding cordon of Aussie fielders, revelling in the discomfiture of the large Zimbabwean. McGrath was never going to let this pass without comment.

"Oi, Eddo," he smirked, "how come you're so fat mate?"

There was a pause while Brandes dusted himself down.

Then the Zimbabwean looked up slowly.

"Because every time I f*** your wife she gives me a biscuit," he replied.

Cue hysterics among the Aussie fielders, unused to seeing McGrath get his verbal comeuppance.

Although Glenn got his revenge by bowling Brandes out a few balls later, the portly chicken farmer had demonstrated one of the only ways to counter the Aussie art of sledging better it.

It is something which has become more and more prevalent in professional sport and concern has been expressed at the lengths players will go in order to unsettle an opponent.

In a win-at-all-costs environment, players' personal lives are not immune from the most ruthless scrutiny.

England's best batsman, Graham Thorpe, pulled out of the current Ashes tour due to the pressures of a separation from his wife and the resultant custody battle for his children.

He shipped a lot of criticism for this decision, with his patriotism being called into question in some quarters, but one staunch defender of Thorpe's action was former England skipper Mike Gatting.

During his own career, Gatting lost the England captaincy after an (alleged) affair with a barmaid and he could claim to knowing a thing or two about sledging.

Thorpe, he reckoned, would have been mercilessly targeted by the Australians.

Every time he walked to the wicket in Australia the fielders would ask, "How are the kids Thorpey?", or else they would enquire how the former Mrs Thorpe was keeping herself warm these cold winter nights.

Why should anyone going through such an emotional and traumatic experience at home subject themselves to this type of abuse, asked Gatting. Why indeed?

The man-on-man marking in GAA means plenty of verbal 'pleasantries' are exchanged in hurling and football.

The majority are fairly innocuous references to wives, girlfriends or mothers, but they can be more hurtful and serious.

Dublin's Jason Sherlock and Seán Óg ÓhAilpín of Cork have both been subjected to sustained racial abuse during their careers and you hear stories about players who have lost family members in tragic circumstances being forcibly reminded of the fact on the field of play.

The fact that sledging can be taken too far is proof of the effectiveness of the spoken word as a weapon.

Psychological warfare is a proven matchwinner.

Muhammad Ali was a master at trash-talking his opponents before big fights and then undermining them verbally during the bout.

For the famous 'Rumble in the Jungle' against George Foreman, Ali totally outpsyched the undefeated champion.

In the build up to the fight, Ali turned on his showman style for the press, bobbing and weaving while boasting how he would run rings around his heavier opponent. "I'm gonna dance" became his pre-fight mantra.

When the first bell sounded, Ali did the opposite. He backed away and allowed Foreman expend all his energy with his famous 'rope-a-dope' strategy.

As Foreman pounded away Ali was constantly chirping in his ear.

"That the best you can do George?", "That all you got?", "That ain't nuthin George, ain't nuthin".

This went on for round after round until Ali felt the champion was sapped physically, and mentally, and then the greatest boxer of all time knocked out Foreman to secure the most famous victory of his career.

In rugby, Seán Fitzpatrick, the New Zealand hooker, was one of the game's most notorious sledgers.

In the 1989 Bledisloe Cup game at Eden Park Australia gave a first cap to a promising young hooker called Phil Kearns.

As they packed down for the first scrum Fitzpatrick famously welcomed the young man to test match rugby.

"What are you doing here fat boy? Does your mama know you're out?"

Kearns got his revenge the following year when the Wallabies won at Wellington and he gave Fitzpatrick a two-fingered salute after scoring the crucial try.

"I was just inviting him to a barbecue and wanted to know did he want one sausage or two," explained Kearns afterwards.

In pursuit of victory, Fitzpatrick would not hold back with the verbals and he was alleged to have racially abused England prop Victor Ubogu in 1993.

"C'mon you black bastard, let's see if you can scrummage." There was a public outcry afterwards, though Fitzpatrick denied the accusations, but Ubogu had the last laugh as England went onto secure a famous win over the All Blacks.

An unlikely source of sledging is the seemingly sedate and serene sport of golf.

The jingoistic tribalism which has come to the fore in the modern Ryder Cup has appalled many golf enthusiasts and a report produced before this autumn's Ryder cup warned of the spread of silent sledging.

Because speaking to opponents is discouraged in golf, this apparently involves strategic coughing during a putt, moving so that your shadow falls across the green, or rattling change in a pocket.

One can find examples of sledging in soccer also, although admittedly of the less than subtle variety.

One thinks of Robbie Fowler calling Graeme Le Saux a homosexual by bending over and pretending to spread his buttocks or the recent slanging match between Roy Keane and international colleague Jason McAteer.

"Put it in your book Roy," said Jason, while pretending to scribble with a pen.

HOWEVER, in soccer, verbal exchanges rarely seem to stray beyond insults, they tend not to be used as a means of gaining a tactical advantage, the way they are in cricket.

Which brings us back to the Australian cricket team, the acknowledged masters of the mind game, a reputation which was forged under the uncompromising Ian Chappell in the 1970s and has carried through to the current side under Steve Waugh.

One of their greatest exponents was fast bowler Merv Hughes.

Hughes was a fearsome sight, big and burly with a large walrus moustache, and possessed a typically rugged Aussie male personality.

He liked nothing better than getting on top of his opponent and then mocking him for his deficiencies.

On one occasion when Merv was in his prime, he had an Englishman in all kinds of bother and decided to help out the unfortunate batsman.

"Why don't I bowl you a f****ng piano, ya Pommie poofta? Let's see if you can play that!"

It was the excess, and success, of Hughes and his like that saw the cricketing authorities try and act to counter over-the-top sledging.

Previously, the umpire could warn the players but impose no meaningful punishment. But in the late 1990s, a new rule was brought in to stifle verbal exchanges, with umpires given the power to penalise a player five runs for transgressions.

It does not seem to have had much effect and Aussie captain Steve Waugh remains unrepentant about his side's psychological tactics.

"I don't think we sledge," says Waugh, "I would prefer to call it mental disintegration." He described the five-run penalty rule for sledging as "ridiculous".

To ban it would be to remove an important element of a tough sport, the Australian skipper believes.

"It's all part of the game. Test cricket is about not only testing your skill but testing your mind powers in certain situations, it's how you handle it that shows your worth."

Aussie spin bowling legend Shane Warne agrees wholeheartedly with his captain but makes one crucial point: you have to earn the right to sledge.

"The problem is that if you start sledging without being able to back up your words with performances then it soon loses its effect. There is no point threatening this and that if you are going to be rissoled inside three days," he rightly points out. Which is exactly what happened to England last weekend in the Third Test in Perth, where Australia retained the Ashes with consumate ease.

Throughout this series, the Australians have been superior in every facet batting, bowling, fielding and they have been totally dominant when it comes to psychological warfare. Any English attempts at verbal intimidation were rendered ridiculous by their woeful inadequacies as a cricketing outfit.

Even the Australian fans join in the pommie-bashing.

Batsmen are jeered on their way out the crease and mocked on their return. Dropped catches and misfields are greeted with unrestrained delight and if an opponent is applauded in Australia, he knows he has earned it.

Phil Tuffnell, the English spin bowler known for his scattiness and fondness of drinking and smoking, recounts the tale of fielding by the boundary in Australia when a supporter piped up, "Hey Tuffnell, lend us your brain mate, I'm building an idiot."

Sledging is here to stay, and we could even see it come into sports previously unaffected a whispered word by a snooker table, a hissed comment to break the concentration as your darts opponents tries to hit a double.

Those who claim sledging is unsporting are wasting their time, it is too powerful a weapon.

If you have the upper hand on your opponent during a contest, an effectively timed psychological blow can compound your superiority and go a long way towards victory.

There are moral issues involved and players who resort to racial or excessive personal abuse should be severely punished by sporting authorities.

But sledging will never be totally eradicated and the best way to counter it is to remember that actions speak louder than words. Even better, is if you can respond with actions and words like the legendary West Indian Viv Richards.

An English county bowler was having surprising success against Richards, who'd played and missed at several balls. Foolishly, the bowler decided to taunt the great one: "Hey Viv, it's red and it's round."

A furious Richards cracked the next ball into another postcode and told the bowler: "You know what it looks like, man now go and fetch it."