Editorial: Watch us kill Aussies with kindness now

Grant Elliott is sledged by (from left) Brad Haddin, James Faulkner and Pat Cummins after he was dismissed. Photo / AP

Opinion

Unlike other cricketing foes, we see through our Ocker neighbours’ brashness to sweet, gooey centre.

The Black Caps might not have won their final match but they won the post-match issue of "sledging".

They won it in the best sporting tradition of saying nothing about it. Captain Brendon McCullum refused to be drawn into the discussion, saying nothing should distract from the fact that Australia deserved to win. Grant Elliott, one of those given a verbal "send-off" at the wicket when his fine, resilient innings ended, said what happens on the field stays on the field and took it as a sign the Aussies rated him as a player.

Their response was perfectly in line with the sporting culture we share with Australia.

It contrasts with the reaction of some players from the Indian subcontinent who were visibly distressed by trash talk at times in the World Cup, and with English players who have not hidden their disgust.

Kiwis, like Aussies, would never give an opponent the satisfaction of seeing anger or hurt. But there, we hope, the similarity ends.

We have been given reason to hope so by one of Australia's leading sledgers, wicketkeeper Brad Haddin. Explaining his abuse of Kiwi batsmen to a Sydney radio station on the morning after the final, Haddin said, "You know what, they deserved it. They were that nice to us in New Zealand [for the pool match] we were uncomfortable. All they were was nice to us for seven days. I said in the team meeting, I can't play cricket like this. If we get another crack at these guys in the final I'm letting everything..."

It was sweet, really - the kind of honesty tinged with self-loathing that can often be heard on the morning after a heavy celebration.

Haddin and his teammates were still in their canary suits the next day, and good on them. It was a decisive victory. But when Haddin regained his equilibrium later in the week he must have regretted his honesty. He has exposed the chink in the team's armour. They are vulnerable to nice.

He may not realise how valuable that revelation will be to us. For in truth, we were not intending to be nice to the Australians over the seven days they were here for the match at Eden Park. Or indeed, before the final last Sunday. In the tradition of transtasman rivalry we were trying to work ourselves into a fever of aggression and vengeance for resented defeats and slights, real or imagined, over the years. We are not that nice, really.

But if nice gets under Australian cricketing skin, watch us go from here on. It is no holds barred now. McCullum's on-field handshake for the retiring Australian skipper after his dismissal last Sunday will be nothing compared to the charm we can turn on if we try. Trent Boult already bowls blistering outswingers in the nicest possible way. In future our keeper and close fielders will support him with a stream of appreciation for Australian batsmen because frankly, it is true.

We know something about our near neighbours that teams from other countries may not know.

We are accustomed to the way they talk and realised long ago it's just a brash abrasive device to disguise the fact they are as nice as pie.

Now that we know how to win, watch them wilt.