It was British academic, author and freelance writer, Stephen
Potter, who first introduced the world to sledging, although he gave it the
much more refined name of Gamesmanship. Potter, who died in 1969, published his
bestselling book, “The Theory and Practice of Gamesmanship” in 1947. Its sub
title was “The Art of Winning Games Without Actually Cheating.”
Recently, the young and very angry Australian tennis player, Nick
Kyrgios, attempted to gain an advantage over his opponent, Stan Warrwinka, by
making a very personal and very inappropriate comment about
Warrwinka’s girlfriend, Donna Vekic.
As they changed ends Kyrgios said to Warrwinka, “Kokkinakis banged
your girlfriend. Sorry to have to tell you that, mate.” It wasn’t gamesmanship.
It wasn’t sledging. It was a totally nasty remark.
Some background. Stan Warrwinka is the current French and
Australian Open Men’s Tennis Champion. Earlier this year he went through a
messy divorce and is now reported to be friendly with Vekic, the young Croatian
tennis player.
Last January, Donna Vekic partnered Thanasi Kokkinakis, in the
mixed doubles at the Australian Open Tennis Championships. At that time, there
was no mention of Kokkinakis and Vekic being involved with each other in
anything other than tennis. Kokkinakis is another young Australian tennis
player. He is a team mate of Krygios on the Australian Davis Cup team. Kokkinakis
is a much happier and more relaxed player than Kyrgios.
Kyrgios’ scurrilous remarks about the pair angered, not only
Warrwinka, but almost the entire tennis world. Warrwinka made the point that
the remarks were not only nasty, but implicated two innocent people who were
not involved in his game with Kyrgios. Kokkinakis also chided Kyrgios, saying
his comments were way out of line. Ms Vekic steered clear of it all and just said that she was concentrating on her tennis. Somebody should give young Kyrgios that same advice.
These days challenging comments, such as those made by Kyrgios, are
called “sledging” This term was made famous by Australian cricket teams,
especially under the captaincies of Ian Chappell and Steve Waugh, two men who
promoted any activities, apart from downright cheating, that would help them
achieve victory.
In his book, Stephen Potter described an incident that occurred in
the late 1920s, that gave him the idea about Gamesmanship. At that time he was lecturing in English Literature at Berbeck College, part
of the University of London. He and
a Professor Joad played a tennis match against two young and fit university
undergraduates. They were losing. On one occasion Professor Joad returned a
forehand shot so forcefully that it sailed high over the baseline and crashed
into the bottom of the fence at the back of the courts. As the young university students
began walking across the baseline to get into position for the next service,
Joad moved towards the net and asked his opponents in a loud voice if they could state
clearly if his return was in or out. Well, obviously it was so far out that the
young men did not think that they needed to call it “Out.” However, Joad’s
request seemed to put into question their sportsmanship. They then became so
edgy that their game disintegrated. Joad and Potter won the match and
Gamesmanship was born.
I read Stephen Potter’s book in the mid 1950s and can now only
recall a few of the ideas he put forward to help someone win the game without
actually cheating. He did advise that Tempo in sport was very important. If
playing tennis or golf with someone who liked to hurry things along,
Gamesmanship required that you slow things down. On the other hand you would
speed things up when playing against someone who liked to be slow and steady.
This stratagem is now widely used by many professional tennis players,
cricketers and footballers.
Potter also suggested that proffering helpful advice could often
bring success. Suggesting that the greens are very fast or very slow can often
badly affect your golfing opponents putting. He suggested that it may be an idea, in
the opening holes, to select a less powerful club, without your partner
knowing, of course, so that they will continually out drive you off the tee. This
will make your opponent feel good. Then, from the fourth hole onwards, select a
more appropriate driver, so that your ball travels roughly as far as your
opponent’s ball. This will puzzle them. They will be concerned. They will think
something has gone terribly wrong with their swing. Their subsequent attempts to
“correct” their swing in order to achieve more length will cause their game to
deteriorate.
Another Potter Gamesmanship ploy, used to upset a golfer who is
striking the ball very well, is to casually comment as you walk along the fairway,
“You are hitting the ball beautifully, today. Would you say that you get most of your
power from you left hand or your right hand?” This makes the opponent think
about his golf swing and which hand he is using for best effect. This
generally causes his swing to deteriorate.
Of course, gamesmanship was practiced long before Potter published
his book. When I was a boy one of my favourite magazines was Sporting Life
which carried stories about Australian sports heroes and heroines and also told
stirring tales of historic sporting events. One story I remember told of a match
between two football teams in Melbourne in the 1930s. Let’s call them
Collingwood and Carlton. At the time Collingwood had a champion centre half
forward. It was well known that his widowed mother ran a newsagency in a shop
across the road from Collingwood’s home ground. Most people also knew that she had an illegal Starting Price bookmaker operating from her shop.
On the day of the match, Carlton placed their tallest player at centre half back, opposed to the much shorter Collingwood centre half forward. Just before the umpire bounced the ball, the very tall Carlton player, standing on tip toe, looked over the wooden fence that ran around the ground. At length he exclaimed, “Oh, that’s terrible. That poor old lady.”
“Why, what’s happening?” asked the shorter Collingwood player, who
of course could not see over the fence.
“Two police cars have pulled up in front of a newsagency across
the road.The coppers are just putting an old lady into the paddy wagon,” was
the matter of fact reply.
The Collingwood champion blanched. His knees turned wobbly. His
mother had just been arrested and was going to gaol. Naturally, he completely
lost his focus on football and played the worst game of his career. Carlton,
the underdogs, ran out easy winners.
There were no police cars. Nobody went to the lock up. The
Collingwood player’s mother spent the afternoon as usual, selling newspapers
and magazines and taking SP bets on the side. It was classic gamesmanship,
though Stephen Potter would not have approved of lies being told in order to
gain an advantage.
Potter was a stickler for sportsmanship and truthfulness. One of
his gamesmanship ploys involved being too sporting. He would spend very little
time looking for his own lost golf ball but insist on lengthy searches
trying to find the ball of other players. This would cause them embarrassment
and a loss of focus which adversely affected their game.
Of course, the nasty comments made by the sour and
surly Nick Kyrgios about his opponent's girlfriend, were, until recently, fairly
commonplace in Australian Rules Football. The AFL Players Association has frowned
on this practice following an incident a few years ago where a West Coast
Eagles player, Adam Sellwood, made a lewd comment about the portrait of a girl tattooed on the shoulder of Fremantle Docker, Des Headland. Headland, understandably, took offence because
the tattoo was of his ten year old daughter. Prior to that time, it was quite
common for one player to try and upset an opponent by saying, “Your
wife/girlfriend/mother/sister was great in bed last night”.
However, on more than one occasion this ploy backfired. such was the case when a player said to his opponent, “I slept with your
sister last night”.
His opponent gave him a filthy look and said, “You lowdown,
dirty dog! My sister was killed in a car crash three weeks ago.” This stunned
the player who had hurled the nasty epithet. He immediately put out his hand to
apologise and offer his condolences. The offended player would have none of it
and made further comments about the unkind nature of his opponent’s total lack
of compassion. Visibly shaken by his gaff, the offending player was so
shamefaced and embarrassed that he completely lost his concentration and
performed poorly throughout the game.
The other player did have a sister, but she had not been killed in an accident three weeks earlier. She was a happily
married mother with three children and lived with her husband in far north
Queensland. Obviously, some people are better at Gamesmanship than others.
Although Gamesmanship is generally practised only by
those actually involved in a game, I contend that barracking at a football match
is also part of the game. Therefore, I humbly submit that I have probably
uttered the greatest riposte in the history of Spectator Gamesmanship. Indeed,
it is only my modest disposition that prevents me from submitting it to the
Guinness Book of Records. The occasion was at a match between the powerful East
Perth and Claremont teams in a Western Australian League Football match at
Perth Oval when I was about nineteen.
Over the years, I have enthusiastically
cheered for East Perth, the Mighty Royals, as they enjoyed good times and
endured hard times. Going to the football was almost a ritual. Apart from the
excitement of the game, there was the thrill of joining in verbal combat with
supporters from opposing sides. I always felt I was doing my bit to help the
players on the field by getting the better of rival supporters off the field.
On this occasion, I was
standing in the crowd and close to an attractive lady and her equally
attractive daughter. They may actually have been sisters. In an effort to
impress, I began making what I fondly imagined were very witty comments about
the opposing players, the umpire and various incidents on the field. I was
pleased to notice that the two women seemed impressed with my rapier like wit
and smiled quite often at my remarks.
Half way through the first
quarter a Claremont supporter positioned himself near me and began to loudly
raise doubts about the ability and courage of the East Perth players. I recognized
that I was being challenged. Soon, the Claremont man and I were engaged in a
verbal joust. I am quite a student of barracking behaviour and I quickly
recognized that this gentleman was a “responder.” Responders are
barrackers who usually wait for a comment to be made and then take the
opportunity to make the same comment, but this time, ironically, and in support
of their own side.
When I thought an East Perth
player should have been paid a mark I would yell out,” Come on, umpire, he only
has to hold it. He doesn’t have to hatch it!”
A few minutes later, a
Claremont player would hold on to the ball and be paid a mark, at which time
Mr. Responder would say, “Now, that WAS a mark”.
I would see a Claremont player
get away with what looked like a throw and call out, “Fair go, Ump, it’s not
basketball.”
Later, when an East Perth
player was penalised for throwing, Mr. Responder would gleefully retort in my
direction, ”Now, that WAS throwing the ball!”
Just before half time I was
incensed to see Phil Tierney, the champion East Perth forward, grabbed without
the ball, by the big Claremont ruckman, Allan Mycock. No free kick was
given.
“What about holding on to
Tierney?” I shouted at the umpire.
About thirty seconds later the
situation was reversed and Mr. Responder jumped in with, “What about holding on
to Mycock?”
The two ladies burst out
laughing. Mr. Responder gasped in embarrassment at the dreadful realisation of
what he had just shouted out. His face turned purple with embarrassment. I slowly took a deep drag on my cigarette,
casually removed it from my lips, turned to Mr. Responder and nonchalantly
enquired, “Well, if you insist. Do you mind if I finish my cigarette first?”
The two attractive ladies
shrieked with laughter, while I smiled the smug smile of the victor. Mr.
Responder did not return after half time and every time I caught the eyes of
the two ladies they would burst out laughing all over again.
East Perth won that game. I
walked back home wearing a winner’s grin, for I knew that I had played a major
role in the Royal’s great victory that day.
Ah, yes, true Gamesmanship.
The art of verbally destroying your opponent without actually cheating. It is not nasty and it can
be an awful lot of fun.
