Dialogue: It isn't cricket? Yes it is if it produces a victory

Herald cricket writer Richard Boock's criticism of Black Caps captain Stephen Fleming's use of the rules in the one-day tri-series in Australia has raised controversy on both sides of the Tasman.

Former Herald sportswriter SIR TERRY McLEAN puts his spin on it.

In this dark hour of sport involving, in the Red Corner, Stephen Fleming and, in the Blue, Richard Boock, I recall advice tended to me on his last day in office by Jack Sullivan, chairman of the New Zealand Rugby Union. We had been ginning away - Jack and I were comrades in the 22nd Infantry Battalion in Italy - when he remarked: "Never argue with newspapermen."

"How come, Jack?" I asked.

"The bastards," he intoned, "always have the last word."

Right? Wrong? I leave you to judge.

This matter shows Fleming to be inordinately sensitive and Boock at least game to voice strong opinions on what is, and what isn't, cricket.

I could wish that others among New Zealand's sporting writers more often and more decisively said what they really thought.

But my mind keeps returning to the first test at the Gabba last year after Fleming, with a magnificent declaration, almost won the game.

Thanks to Chris Cairns and other heroes, the New Zealanders were going hell for leather. So what did Steve Waugh bark at his Aussie troops, especially McGrath? "Bowl wide so they can't hit 'em."

The effect was such that, after play, Waugh summed up by saying: "Had that ball gone six feet further, New Zealand would have won the game."

Perhaps the failure - which was truly glorious - could be ascribed to a ball just a little further from reach than was estimated.

Waugh was praised for brilliant tactics. But was his directive, I would ask Richard Boock, truly in the spirit of the game? Could it be said that this was, within the ancient meaning, cricket?

No, no, a thousand times no. Which goes to show, I suggest, that in this dark hour of professional sport, when the real sin is not to win, it is time to inter, in concrete, the remark "It isn't cricket".

History records that the "great" cricketer Dr W.G. Grace by no means adhered at all times to the spirit of the saying.

When Douglas Jardine commanded Larwood and Voce to bowl at the bodies of the Australians, including Bradman, he was despised. But he won the series for England.

Not only cricket is affected by the modern doctrine that you play to win. On Tuesday evening I turned my television on to the rugby match in which Ireland devoured Wales.

The firmest impression I formed was that the Irish backline, probably by direction, deliberately lined up in front of the last line of feet and from this position of advantage cancelled Wales' admittedly slim hopes of breaking through to score. Interpretation? The Irish were playing to win.

I have personally had one or two experiences of conflict because of my writings. They are amusing to recall.

Touring Australia with the 1974 All Blacks, we pressmen - there were a bunch of us - heard the remarkable news that the exiled All Black Keith Murdoch was living in Western Australia and might even be available for their team against his old side. I took two planes and flew to Keith's camp, hundreds of miles to the north. He was working 14km out. By arrangement, the camp boss parked me in a Scammell truck.

As I disembarked Murdoch, a fearsome figure in black singlet, socks, boots and a fine black moustache, loudly exclaimed: "Who brought this !@

* here?" The gender was wrong. In short sentences I told him of the All Blacks. In shorter ones, he told me he had read my lies about his place in the team in Britain from which he was evicted.

Between us was a stream of oil, perhaps 200m wide. "What are you going to do?" Murdoch barked. "Bugger off or have me throw you in the oil?"

I departed - to the camp, Port Hedland and back to Perth. It was a quiet Sunday in the Herald newsroom until the McLean cable arrived. I made the front page - not easy for a sportswriter in those days.

And letters to the editor poured in. McLean was a wretch, he had invaded privacy. He ought to be tarred and feathered.

I wasn't, but I remain amazed that none of my press companions attempted the trip. A master newspaperman, Noel Chappell, put it in a nutshell at my return.

"You could not afford not to go, could you?"

I replied: "Of course".

I revert, briefly, to my theme that, like it or not, sentimental slop like "It isn't cricket" is dead.

From experience of both, I affirm that war and sport in strange ways belong to the same family. Courage, flair, willingness to take casualties; and more and more with professionalism marching into sport, the demands of war become more important.

Let me quote, therefore, from the magnificent autobiography of the American Secretary of State, General Colin Powell, published last year.

He puts it in a nutshell: "Excellence is not an exception. It is a prevailing attitude. My conviction - that you go in to win - was shaped in small matters and carried throughout my career.

"If you are considering getting into any action, go in with a clear purpose, prepared to win - or don't go."