The AFL is an anomaly amongst ball-sports worldwide. With the exception of the unique scoring system in tennis, most sports operate on a simple basis, the team that scores the most times wins.
But with a two-tiered scoring system, six points for a goal and one point for a behind, the AFL is an exception to that very simple rule.
Thus we have a very unique set of circumstances that confront us. Of the 45 matches played in the 2012 AFL Premiership season, the team with the lesser number of physical scores has won six times. Twice more sides have been locked on the same number of scoring instances at full time, yet the result has not been a draw.
It is a strange concept to understand, and one that is worth analysis. In theory it is not as simple as blaming inaccurate kicking, as a number of scores are concessions by the defending team, but it in actuality it can be as simple as that.
Playing in the AFL is not an easy task. There is enormous pressure and physicality involved in every moment. The athletes are elite. Most of them are physical monsters. Six-foot at a minimum, few less than 80kg, and yet they are astonishing runners, with the ability to run repeat 100-150m bursts at top speed over 100 minutes, covering beyond 16km in total.
This is not to mention the physical aspect, featuring high-speed body clashes, powerful wrestling, grappling, and tackling of strong, yet nimble men.
These athletes spend months preparing themselves physically to cope with all these aspects of the game. On top of that there are the tactical aspects. Coaching staffs spend hours drilling zones, presses, stoppage scenarios, offensive and defensive set-ups.
The hours spent drilling these aspects of the game at training are all for one common goal, and that is to win games. Coaches, players, commentators, and scribes file through mountains of stats to analyse these games. Those stats that carry the most weight are contested possessions, score involvements, inside 50s, and defensive rebounds.
Yet what is the point of hours upon hours of drilling to set up scoring opportunities only to be wasteful in front of goal when you get there?
Why should Richmond bother winning a contested ball on tired legs, spread well, hit targets, and find their forward, one-out, only for him to miss a set shot to put his side in front with less than four minutes to go against West Coast on Sunday.
Why would St Kilda, a week earlier, bother to win 15 more contested possessions than Fremantle, and send the ball inside 50 on 12 more occasions only to lose because they kicked 11 goals from 24 scores, to Fremantle’s 14 goals from 22.
It begs the question, why is the most vital skill in the game, the ability to maximise scoring from the opportunities you are presented, one of the least important factors to football clubs. Why do coaches continually say “we’re giving ourselves opportunities, and that is the pleasing thing,” when their side has had more chances than the opposition and lost? Why are the excuses of pressure and fatigue thrown up every time a player misses at a crucial juncture?
England World Cup winning fly-half Jonny Wilkinson never made those excuses. He never had to. The man spent hours every day practising his goal kicking, in rain, hail, or shine, for the one moment he needed it. His faultless boot carried England to the 2003 World Cup final, and single-handedly got them to extra-time, and when the moment arrived to win the Cup he did not let them down. And that simply comes from work ethic, and a trust that he’s done it a thousand times before in training.
“I want to use every moment when I’m out there whether training as team or individually. Every run, kick, pass or communication should hold meaning. You should aim in every situation to replicate that match situation.” Wilkinson said.
Tiger Woods is another example. NBC golf commentator Dan Hicks immortalised Tiger’s birdie putt at 18 at the 2008 US Open at Torrey Pines with the famous line “expect anything different?”
Woods dropped a 12-footer that bounced and bobbled from left to right down a slope to force a play-off with Rocco Mediate, a play-off he won to claim his 14th major title.
We expected Woods to make that putt because he expected to make it. There were no excuses lined up about the state of the parched green, the soreness of his knee, the unjustness of the world had the putt lipped out. Woods never contemplated it. Why? Because he hit 100,000 putts just like it in the years leading up to that point. At his zenith, Woods would stand on a putting green at the end of a day’s practice and hole 100 six-foot, breaking, putts in a row. One-hundred in a row, without missing. Is it any surprise he made the one that mattered? Are there any AFL footballers out there making 100 set shots in a row before leaving the training track every day?
You would suggest not. Hence the competition after five rounds is collectively operating at 51.76 per cent in front of goal and no team is above 60 per cent.
What about other sports? The 2011-12 NBA leading scorer, Oklahoma City Thunder forward Kevin Durant, had a season field goal percentage of 49.6. Field goal percentage is number of baskets made from number of attempts put up. That is comparable with the AFL, only the goal Durant fires at is a ring 45cm in diameter, as opposed to 6.4m wide and infinitely high. Put Durant on the free-throw line, the AFL’s equivalent of a set shot, and his percentage sky-rockets to 86.
Durant is the best in the league, but there is a reason why he is the best. Aside from his remarkable, natural, athleticism, he is meticulous in his shooting in practice, as the majority of NBA players are. That is how they make their living, from scoring.
No surprise then that with 3.5 seconds left in Game One of Oklahoma’s first playoff series with defending champions the Dallas Mavericks, Durant made a fade-away jump shot for two points to steal a 99-98 victory. There was some luck involved, with the ball taking a piece of the rim, and glass, before dropping. But as golfing legend Gary Player said “the harder you work, the luckier you get.” Few work harder than Durant, hence he makes a shot at a key moment that undoubtedly he has made thousands of times before.
No sportsman is the best in the world without working harder than the rest. No matter how much natural ability you possess, it will fail you without practising basic skills on a regular basis.
Goal kicking is a basic skill, and the most important skill in Australian Football. It is pointless to spend infinite hours on structures, and set-up, and zones, if you cannot complete the most important, oldest, skill in the game, kicking goals. Losing a tight game, having scored more times than your opponent, is about as worthwhile as losing by 100 points. It has happened six times already this season. West Coast, Geelong, and St Kilda have all lost Grand Finals in the same manner across the last seven seasons, whilst Collingwood were fortunate to escape with a draw in the first Grand Final of 2010.
You just wonder when teams will learn.
Sunday, April 29, 2012
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
The toughest job in Australia
Consider this. Between September 1988 and April 2012, Australia has had only five Prime Ministers, six test captains and six test match wicketkeepers. But given three of the glovemen - Phil Emery, Graham Manou, and Tim Paine - have stood in just six of the 264 tests in that time, it is essentially easier to win in a federal election in Australia than it is to wear the gloves and the baggy green in a test match.
So when incumbent Brad Haddin withdrew from the tour of the Caribbean on the eve of the test series for personal reasons, reserve Matthew Wade was well aware of the enormity of the opportunity he had been given.
Replacing a long-term Australian gloveman is a thankless task. Five wicketkeepers were tried in the four years following Rod Marsh’s retirement. The sixth was the only one to survive three consecutive test series. Ian Healy eventually played 119 of 120 test matches. Such was the Queenslander’s popularity; his replacement was booed to the crease in his first test match in 1999. Adam Gilchrist was never booed again in his astonishing 96-test career. He took just 134 minutes to step out of Healy’s shadow, making a swash-buckling 81 on test debut, and created his own legend only a fortnight later with an breath-taking 149 not out in a record run-chase in Hobart.
Gilchrist created a monster for those following in his footsteps. He revolutionised the role of a wicket keeper batsman. Rod Marsh was the first Australian gloveman to make a test century. He made three in his career, Healy trumped that with four. Gilchrist produced eight in his first 43 tests including, at the time, the fastest double-century ever made. His 5570 test runs at 47.60, with a blistering strike-rate of 81.95 and 17 test centuries, resemble the record of a tremendous batsman, let alone a wicket-keeper who effected 416 dismissals, more than any other in his country’s history.
For Brad Haddin, an outstanding player in his own right, Gilchrist’s career casts a pall over his. Like the smog of a heavily polluted metropolis, it is suffocating, unrelenting, and permanent. There are days when the sun peeks through, and shines a light on its magnificence, yet we will never see its greatness in clear, unfiltered light.
Haddin’s record is impressive. Three test centuries in 43 matches, averaging 35.82. Healy averaged 27 across his career, but had never passed 71 in his first 43 tests. Haddin’s record even compares favourably with MS Dhoni, whose test average, strike-rate, and century tally, is only marginally in front of the New South Welshman, with 24 more tests to his name.
Despite this, the 34-year-old Haddin has a problem. It is doubtful in the week coinciding with Anzac Day the Australian selectors will have the Ode of Remembrance at the front of their minds, “Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.”
A man ten years Haddin’s junior, a man who has overcome many obstacles to play test cricket for Australia, may well have gone from seat-warmer to incumbent in the glorious sunshine of Dominica.
Matthew Wade’s maiden test century was of the highest quality. In a series where no Australian has reached 80, Wade’s devastating counter-attack, to tilt the game in Australia’s favour, had a bit of Marsh, Healy, Gichrist, and Haddin all rolled in.
It wasn’t the breath-taking, mind-blowing, assault of Gilchrist on Wasim, Waqar, Saqlain, and Mushtaq in Hobart 1999, but it did feature some equally strong slog sweeps and crisp drives. It was remarkably similar to Marsh’s Centenary Test century. As in 1977, the game was on a knife’s edge needing a tough uncompromising innings from a tough uncompromising player. The scorecard had a similar feel to Healy’s 161 not out against the West Indies in Brisbane, 1996. Healy, like Wade, entered at five down with less than 200 up, batting first after fits and starts from his top order, only to take control with the lower order and set up a match-winning first innings total.
Although it featured some Haddin-esque clean striking, including one enormous straight six, there are no comparisons to any of Haddin’s test centuries.
Reason being that Haddin’s three hundreds have come in relatively more comfortable circumstances. All three were made with at least one player in front of him having already reached three figures, and the best, against England in the first Ashes test of 2010-11, was made redundant by England’s second innings total of 1 for 517.
Wade’s century was made even better by the situation posed to him on match eve. His captain spoke of Haddin’s return to the test fold as a fait accompli. The analysts read this as Michael Clarke’s loyalty to his NSW teammate and a man who he first played under in first-class cricket. But this would be narrow-minded. Captaincy is part-psychology. Clarke has spent enough time with Wade over the past few months to know his story and know that he responds to a challenge.
Wade, aged 16, was diagnosed with testicular cancer. He has subsequently beaten two rounds of chemotherapy. He moved away from home at 19, from Tasmania to Victoria, forced by the knowledge that he would live in the shadow of the highly regarded Tim Paine should he remain in Hobart. He had also rescued Victoria in the 2009-10 Sheffield Shield final from near disaster on day one. Wade made a gritty 96 on a difficult wicket, after his team floundered at 6-75 with four international representatives failing in the top order. Clarke had to know that a public comment about Haddin’s return would inspire Wade to make the most of his opportunity.
Wade had done nothing wrong in his first two tests, but he had not made a statement to the selectors to say that he wanted the job long term. His glovework has been sound, if not marginally better than Haddin’s recent efforts. Wade has scarcely missed a chance and although his bye count is high, difficult wickets, and some wayward deliveries inflate it, thus he can hardly be blamed. Keepers often measure themselves against their direct opponent in the series, and Wade has had Carlton Baugh’s measure in all facets.
Wade’s batting possibly lacks the class or devastation of Haddin, but probably features more mental resolve. He needed a score of significance to make Haddin’s return a question rather than a foregone conclusion.
Suddenly it is a loud question that will only get louder. Haddin’s value was being queried in South Africa last year, when a brain explosion in Cape Town made him the headline act in a 47 all out horror show. The stroke he played was inexplicable and the rage of those watching was incandescent. But Haddin’s predecessor had played equally mind-boggling strokes at equally vital junctures. At Edgbaston in 2005, Gilchrist holed out to mid on off Ashley Giles, for just 1, in that famous two-run loss. But Haddin’s highlights are far less frequent than Gilchrist’s and thus his credits in the bank are fast running out.
With Wade rising to his captain’s challenge, is Haddin’s career over? It would be an unfortunate end to a contribution that will never be truly valued. But the job is a tough one, and you are made to earn it. Wade has done all that has been asked of him and more. Australian wicketkeeping is as ruthless as federal politics, and the caucus may well have spoken.
So when incumbent Brad Haddin withdrew from the tour of the Caribbean on the eve of the test series for personal reasons, reserve Matthew Wade was well aware of the enormity of the opportunity he had been given.
Replacing a long-term Australian gloveman is a thankless task. Five wicketkeepers were tried in the four years following Rod Marsh’s retirement. The sixth was the only one to survive three consecutive test series. Ian Healy eventually played 119 of 120 test matches. Such was the Queenslander’s popularity; his replacement was booed to the crease in his first test match in 1999. Adam Gilchrist was never booed again in his astonishing 96-test career. He took just 134 minutes to step out of Healy’s shadow, making a swash-buckling 81 on test debut, and created his own legend only a fortnight later with an breath-taking 149 not out in a record run-chase in Hobart.
Gilchrist created a monster for those following in his footsteps. He revolutionised the role of a wicket keeper batsman. Rod Marsh was the first Australian gloveman to make a test century. He made three in his career, Healy trumped that with four. Gilchrist produced eight in his first 43 tests including, at the time, the fastest double-century ever made. His 5570 test runs at 47.60, with a blistering strike-rate of 81.95 and 17 test centuries, resemble the record of a tremendous batsman, let alone a wicket-keeper who effected 416 dismissals, more than any other in his country’s history.
For Brad Haddin, an outstanding player in his own right, Gilchrist’s career casts a pall over his. Like the smog of a heavily polluted metropolis, it is suffocating, unrelenting, and permanent. There are days when the sun peeks through, and shines a light on its magnificence, yet we will never see its greatness in clear, unfiltered light.
Haddin’s record is impressive. Three test centuries in 43 matches, averaging 35.82. Healy averaged 27 across his career, but had never passed 71 in his first 43 tests. Haddin’s record even compares favourably with MS Dhoni, whose test average, strike-rate, and century tally, is only marginally in front of the New South Welshman, with 24 more tests to his name.
Despite this, the 34-year-old Haddin has a problem. It is doubtful in the week coinciding with Anzac Day the Australian selectors will have the Ode of Remembrance at the front of their minds, “Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.”
A man ten years Haddin’s junior, a man who has overcome many obstacles to play test cricket for Australia, may well have gone from seat-warmer to incumbent in the glorious sunshine of Dominica.
Matthew Wade’s maiden test century was of the highest quality. In a series where no Australian has reached 80, Wade’s devastating counter-attack, to tilt the game in Australia’s favour, had a bit of Marsh, Healy, Gichrist, and Haddin all rolled in.
It wasn’t the breath-taking, mind-blowing, assault of Gilchrist on Wasim, Waqar, Saqlain, and Mushtaq in Hobart 1999, but it did feature some equally strong slog sweeps and crisp drives. It was remarkably similar to Marsh’s Centenary Test century. As in 1977, the game was on a knife’s edge needing a tough uncompromising innings from a tough uncompromising player. The scorecard had a similar feel to Healy’s 161 not out against the West Indies in Brisbane, 1996. Healy, like Wade, entered at five down with less than 200 up, batting first after fits and starts from his top order, only to take control with the lower order and set up a match-winning first innings total.
Although it featured some Haddin-esque clean striking, including one enormous straight six, there are no comparisons to any of Haddin’s test centuries.
Reason being that Haddin’s three hundreds have come in relatively more comfortable circumstances. All three were made with at least one player in front of him having already reached three figures, and the best, against England in the first Ashes test of 2010-11, was made redundant by England’s second innings total of 1 for 517.
Wade’s century was made even better by the situation posed to him on match eve. His captain spoke of Haddin’s return to the test fold as a fait accompli. The analysts read this as Michael Clarke’s loyalty to his NSW teammate and a man who he first played under in first-class cricket. But this would be narrow-minded. Captaincy is part-psychology. Clarke has spent enough time with Wade over the past few months to know his story and know that he responds to a challenge.
Wade, aged 16, was diagnosed with testicular cancer. He has subsequently beaten two rounds of chemotherapy. He moved away from home at 19, from Tasmania to Victoria, forced by the knowledge that he would live in the shadow of the highly regarded Tim Paine should he remain in Hobart. He had also rescued Victoria in the 2009-10 Sheffield Shield final from near disaster on day one. Wade made a gritty 96 on a difficult wicket, after his team floundered at 6-75 with four international representatives failing in the top order. Clarke had to know that a public comment about Haddin’s return would inspire Wade to make the most of his opportunity.
Wade had done nothing wrong in his first two tests, but he had not made a statement to the selectors to say that he wanted the job long term. His glovework has been sound, if not marginally better than Haddin’s recent efforts. Wade has scarcely missed a chance and although his bye count is high, difficult wickets, and some wayward deliveries inflate it, thus he can hardly be blamed. Keepers often measure themselves against their direct opponent in the series, and Wade has had Carlton Baugh’s measure in all facets.
Wade’s batting possibly lacks the class or devastation of Haddin, but probably features more mental resolve. He needed a score of significance to make Haddin’s return a question rather than a foregone conclusion.
Suddenly it is a loud question that will only get louder. Haddin’s value was being queried in South Africa last year, when a brain explosion in Cape Town made him the headline act in a 47 all out horror show. The stroke he played was inexplicable and the rage of those watching was incandescent. But Haddin’s predecessor had played equally mind-boggling strokes at equally vital junctures. At Edgbaston in 2005, Gilchrist holed out to mid on off Ashley Giles, for just 1, in that famous two-run loss. But Haddin’s highlights are far less frequent than Gilchrist’s and thus his credits in the bank are fast running out.
With Wade rising to his captain’s challenge, is Haddin’s career over? It would be an unfortunate end to a contribution that will never be truly valued. But the job is a tough one, and you are made to earn it. Wade has done all that has been asked of him and more. Australian wicketkeeping is as ruthless as federal politics, and the caucus may well have spoken.
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