David Leggat: Punter the name of the game

Trust an Aussie to get in the last word.

A full house of 38,000 turned up to watch Australia's Twenty20 match against South Africa at the Gabba in Brisbane this week. Australia won by 95 runs, so bang goes the thrill-a-minute-right-down-to-the-wire bravura of the marketeers.

Put the size of that crowd down to curiosity and be confident it won't last in cricket's slap-bang, quick-rush equivalent of a bottle of Red Bull. Cricket's one-day hamburger has become a bag of chicken nuggets.

Chipping my Australian cobber on his barmy countrymen, he came back with the perfect riposte: "You lot started it with that afro at Eden Park last year."

Couldn't argue. Hamish Marshall has much to answer for.

When he let loose his locks for the 20-over bash against Australia, he ensured it would remain the vivid memory of that day.

Now Australia have gone a step further. For the game against the South Africans, their players had nicknames on their shirts.

So you had "Pup" Clarke fielding at long on, "Punter" Ponting calling the shots and "Sarfraz" Clark sending the pill down.

There was a good reason cricket authorities decided to introduce names on to coloured clothing: to help spectators and television audiences easily identify the players.

The only people who'll know the nicknames are their mates.

And their domestic Twenty20 competition has followed suit, breathlessly promoted as "one of the most revolutionary steps domestic cricket has taken in Australia".

It also means the Australians can join Brazil's soccer team as the only one fielding players with one name.

But you've got to hand it to Australians: when they do nicknames they leave us for dead.

Mark "Afghanistan" Waugh - as in the forgotten war - and twin brother Steve "Tugga" Waugh have been replaced by Pigeon, Guildo, Roy, Catfish, Mr Cricket, Mad Mickey and Kat (who also happens to answer to Stiffler, which is best left to American Pie devotees to explain).

The best New Zealand teams usually muster is adding a Y. Boooring.

Anyway, Cricket Australia will be chuffed not only at the attendance, but that many are newcomers to the game. Traditionalists and purists be damned. This is all about pulling in people who wouldn't give a fig about the test and four-day game.

As one "new" spectator named Shona, who had driven a couple of hours from the Sunshine Coast, remarked: "I'm having so much fun. The big hits are the best. It's taken my husband seven years of marriage to get me here."

And in those three sentences Cricket Australia will have all the ammunition it needs to give this column a giant ya-boo-sucks.

But at least New Zealand Cricket have no plans to follow down the nickname track for its Twenty20 competition, which began in Wellington and Christchurch yesterday. And TG for that.

This season, NZC are operating a scaled down competition, the six provinces split into two pools of three, with a round robin in groups leading to a final on February 5.

At this rate, it won't be long before we're getting all wistful about the good old days of the one-day hamburger.

(And those nicknames? The cricketers in order are Glenn McGrath, Brad Haddin, Andrew Symonds, James Hopes, Mike Hussey, Mick Lewis and Simon Katich.)

* Speaking of Australia, a genius goes to work in Melbourne on Monday.

Even if you're not a tennis fan, pull up a seat when Roger Federer reaches for his racquet over the next fortnight at the Australian Open in Melbourne.

The 24-year-old is attempting to become only the third man to do the sweep of Australian, French, Wimbledon and US titles in a calendar year after Don Budge (1938) and Rod Laver (1962 and 1969).

It is sometimes easy to forget the dominance of past greats, like Borg, McEnroe, Connors and Sampras. We shouldn't. They are legends.

But for all-round efficiency, plus the sumptuous quality of his strokeplay, Federer is on track to top the lot. Watch and enjoy.