Australia's bittersweet 16

The just-concluded Syndey Test match, the first of 2008, was one of undercurrent and sub-plot. It was the game which the Australians had to win to equal the record for most consecutive Test victories; realistically, it was a Test India needed to win too, bearing in mind the spin-friendly surface and their precarious position in the series. But as five days of absorbing cricket, replete with displays of class and talent on both sides, were played out, other more invidious themes developed, picking away at the festering scabs of well-worn issues and debates which dog the modern game.

One of these was the standard of umpiring, which was dismal. Errors made by the officials are under ever-more constant scrutiny, especially with advancing levels of technology which allow the casual viewer or fan to act as judge and jury from the comfort of an armchair. Often their importance is overstated; mistakes they may be, but often they are no more than poor excuses for a losing team. However, so numerous were the errors of umpires Bucknor and Benson that India, against whom the majority of the decisions fell, have some reasonable grievance, which they have formalised with an official complaint. It was yet more evidence that Steve Bucknor, once the nonpareil of white-coats, has overstayed his welcome umpiring at this level. That he has been allowed to continue into his 60s baffles; more so the inability of the ICC to give him the polite but firm push necessary. If there have been hints, perhaps his hearing has been as faulty as when it failed to pick up the deflection off the edge of Andrew Symonds' bat on the first day, a noise discernible to almost all at the ground. Symonds went on to add 132 more to his total, not without several more reprieves, including a refusal by Bucknor to refer a decision on a stumping which was tight but probably out. That was the error on which the game hinged; Bucknor's incorrect execution of Rahul Dravid as India scrapped in vain on the last day just added insult.

The saga over the umpiring decisions will continue to perpetuate, but the news that Harbhajan Singh has been banned for three Test matches will promote the issue of how the players conducted themselves during the game. Harbhajan was indicted for a racist slur on Andrew Symonds, a situation no-doubt owing something to the bad-feeling created during the recent one-day series between these teams in India. Symonds was racially abused by the home crowds, and words were shared both on the field and through the press. As ever when such an issue arises with the Australians involved, the question must be posed of to what extent the exchange was conducted on a dual-carriageway, as opposed to the one-way street the ruling would suggest. The combination of Australian intensity, inclined to boil over into overt aggression when they are put under pressure, as they were by the partnership between Singh and Tendulkar; and Harbhajan, a fierce competitor totally lacking in self-restraint, was always likely to cause ructions. The fact that Harbhajan descended into the realm of the racially abusive makes it hard to defend his case, but that should not be allowed to cover-up the part of the Australians in the affair.

Indeed the game as a whole reflected badly on Ricky Ponting and his team in that aspect. They coerced the umpires into giving Sourav Ganguly out when Michael Clarke took a catch close to the ground, one of those which falls into the grey-area of uncertainty technology is unable to illuminate. Ricky Ponting might have fancied himself as a better umpire than the two poor examples on show, but that is no excuse for the finger he brandished at Mark Benson, who meekly followed suit to dispatch Ganguly. Bad umpiring may be "part of the game" as Ponting suggested after the game, but he himself could have shown a far greater appreciation of this maxim, making his displeasure at being incorrectly adjudged leg-before in the first innings clear, disregarding that he had earlier been wrongly saved by the same umpire. If Ponting is willing to indulge the human-aspect of decision making in the game's great tapestry, he would do well not to give the impression he is only happy with it being part of a game favouring his own team.

There was, lest one forget, a fine game of cricket going on amongst all the controversy. Momentum, the ebb and flow of which has ever defined Test cricket, tends to be something of a one-way thing when playing Australia: allow them to take it, and you will likely never see it again. The pleasant aspect of this game, setting it apart from the formulaic victories which formed much of the 16-game run, was the way in which control of the game changed hands on various occasions, and the match was kept interesting throughout the five days, mercifully only touched by the rain which had been expected to be a more significant blight. India took the first trick, a significant achievement considering their seam attack was down to the bare-bones with Zaheer injured and out of the series. But his understudy RP Singh rose to the occasion, knocking over the Australian openers and allowing the spinners to work away at the middle-order, rather than having to toil against an undamaged batting line-up, which was the Indians' problem in the second innings. Symonds, even taking into account his various helpings of luck, played a strong hand, with his finest Test innings, with all the other recognised batsmen back in the quaint SCG pavilion. Brad Hogg and Brett Lee were more than valuable allies, both recording half-centuries and helping Australia to a total in excess of 450 when 200 less would have been an acceptable face-saving score. The inexperience of the Indian seam duo, Singh and Sharma, was shown up as they failed to do to the lower-order what they had the better batsmen and were knocked off their stride by the poor decision making. Nevertheless, the promise of Sharma, in particular, shone through; with all fit he would be some way off first choice, but he was lively and unlucky with some nippy in-duckers to the right-handers and disconcerting bounce from a wiry frame.

Although the Australians largely wasted the new ball, Brett Lee did manage to set-up Wasim Jaffer perfectly, slipping a yorker under his bat having pushed him onto the back foot with some rib-ticklers. With Dravid still mired in the catacombs of his bad form, it looked as if a familiar story would unfold. Fortunately for India, their next man in was strolling out to his batting equivalent of the Elysian fields: VVS Laxman, against Australia, batting at 3, in Sydney. Rarely has a batsman been more primed for success and Laxman fulfilled both the expectation and the need of his team. Dainty yet lethal, his strokes lit up the SCG and enraptured the crowd, no strangers to batting of the highest class. In the age of turbo-bats and Twenty20 cricket, it was a prescient reminder of how the best batsmanship is based around timing, a golden-age throwback which could have had no more fitting stage than Sydney, still boasting it's 19th century Pavilion and Ladies' stand. The departure of Laxman and Dravid in quick succession, however, brought the match back towards Australia, and one more big effort was needed. With Ganguly and Tendulkar together, only one man looked likely: while the Little Master toiled, Ganguly flowed, showing the benefits of his recent run-scoring exploits as he floated to a half-century. But he gave it away, chipping Hogg lamely to mid-on, which Tendulkar did not. His unbeaten 154 was not quite the effort of four years ago, when he abstained from the cover drive, but it had echoes, with the maestro battling indifferent form and the loss of his old dominance. With Harbhajan, he repaid the compliment to Australia of their first-innings resurgence, raising India over 500 when Australia looked ready to finish them at 345-7.

Their chances of victory dissipated with their failure to break into the Australians early, Jaques and Hayden posting a creditable 85 on a pitch which was beginning to bounce erraticaly and offer significant turn. Hayden was the main bulwark, and his alliance with the unperturbed Hussey meant Australia could absorb the early loss of both Clarke and Ponting, for a third single-figure score in four innings. Delaying the declaration on the fifth day until the stroke of lunch appeared overkill, although Ponting can rightfully point to the eventual victory, achieved dramatically as the innocuous left-arm slows of Michael Clarke, enhanced by the now capricious surface, claimed a trio of wickets in the penultimate over to scotch India's hopes of survival. Australia will celebrate long and hard, the record equalled with power to add, especially on Perth's reviving pitch. It is an undesirable outcome for the neutral, killing a series which a fighting-draw would have brought to the boil, while the resentment will run deep for India. Cricket needed this sort of a contest, two high-quality teams slugging it out; it did not need the various indiscipline of both players and officials and steps should be taken to try and ensure that a Test match with as much potential as this one is not so significantly marred again.