KEY POINTS:
When Daniel Vettori took his seat at a press conference the day before the Chappell-Hadlee Trophy series opener, he didn't see the hand grenade arcing his way.
And if he had his time again, rather than refer the first question on New Zealand's views on the legitimacy of Australian tearaway Shaun Tait's action to his coach, he might have batted it back down the pitch with a "no idea what you're on about".
And so another chucking controversy was up and running - and for those with a marketing mind, it was impeccably timed on the eve of the ODI series. Nothing beats a generous dollop of controversy at a time like that.
There are two ways of looking at the Tait debate. A devious mind would suggest it was a deliberate attempt to undermine an Australian speedster who had just dented New Zealand's batting before the series started.
That it was lobbed out in the public arena in an attempt to put a spoke into Australia's plans to blow New Zealand away with sheer speed; to try to undermine the missile launcher. The other viewpoint is that it was a story which erupted almost by accident.
Vettori, caught offguard, gave a player's response: ask the coach.
He then added, not unreasonably, that any time a new speedster emerges flinging the leather down at 150km/h plus - especially post-Shoaib Akhtar, Pakistan's rapid serial bent-arm offender - the first instincts these days include taking a hard look at his action.
A less Machiavellian figure than Vettori would be hard to find. He does not appeal as the sort of person who packs a pot and ladle in his kit bag.
But Australian indignation knew no bounds yesterday. Tait vented his anger at the New Zealanders; Vettori and coach John Bracewell copped the "act of extreme cowardice" line in one newspaper.
The truth of the matter might lie somewhere in the middle. When players sit for hours in a dressing room waiting to bat, or contemplating the shot that has put them back in the pavilion, they watch the television and they talk.
They will have seen Brett Lee and Tait whizzing the ball down during the Twenty20 game in Perth last Tuesday. And they might well have muttered private thoughts. That is human nature.
No question that Tait, just over right elbow surgery, has a slingy action which is at the least interesting.
Perhaps Vettori, aware of that, thought it best steer that into the hands of Bracewell. The problem was Bracewell wasn't talking - and might even have taken his skipper out the back of Adelaide Oval and given him a cuff over the ear for lobbing, however innocently, a perfectly weighted hospital pass his way.
Again, Bracewell could have booted the speculation into touch with a couple of blunt sentences. He's never been shy of a spot of controversy.
Instead the New Zealanders pointed the questions the way of match referee Roshan Mahanama, and all that did was fuel the notion that they were keeping the pot bubbling.
Back in the 1970s, Australia had Dennis Lillee and Jeff Thomson hurling thunderbolts at hapless batsmen, particularly the English in their 1974-75 shellacking of the Poms.
There was no escape for batsmen and the line went "if Lillee doesn't get you, Thommo will". They were a fearsome pair, who happily talked up the angle of relishing blood on the pitch and the sound of cracking bones.
Pairs of fair dinkum speedsters quicken the pulse. They are an exhilarating sight, unless you're standing 20m away with a bat.
Australians can see the possibility for a similarly devastating duo in the form of Lee and Tait, even though it's a pairing still in its infancy.
On the evidence of a few overs in Perth, Australian anticipation swelled. In their eyes, in a matter of minutes the country cousins had tried to prick the balloon. Cue yesterday's sound and fury.
New Zealand could have handled the situation better. Mischievous minds would contend they did a pretty good job of putting the spark into the series.
