Paul Lewis: Victory better than verbals

Someone must have taken Ashley Giles into a small room and told him of the realities of international sport and the correct use of the media.

Giles is the English left-arm spinner who copped a lot of blame for England being put to the sword in the first Ashes test by the Australians but who bounced back this weekend with the key wickets of Ricky Ponting and Michael Clarke.

While he's no mug on the cricket pitch, Giles will probably not go down as one of the greats. He'd taken 127 wickets in 46 tests before this test. That includes a nine-wicket haul against the West Indies last year and he has been part of England's resurgence as an international cricket force - even if some have made fun of him for being a bit un-athletic and, well, wobble-bottomed.

Giles really biffed his bottle out of the bassinette after he was fingered in the first test defeat by cricket writers and former cricket internationals. Now, we have to concede that there is provocation aplenty from the UK media. Win - and you and your team are the conquering heroes, descending from heaven on the wings of angels.

Lose - and you are the nastiest, smelliest piece of dog do imaginable, fit only for scraping off a shoe. In the UK, you can be both in the space of two weeks.

Giles suffered a lot of this - the worst being former international player and Derbyshire coach David Houghton, who said that England would be better off with 10 men than playing Giles. However, Giles chose his column in The Guardian to hit back at his critics, outlining his hurt at being so criticised, defending his international record and talking about seeing a sports psychologist.

It wasn't even that bad a column. He made some reasonable points. But the catch is that, no matter what you say in such circumstances, it will be misinterpreted. It was. Giles was ridiculed all over again as a cry-baby and a big softie.

Which leads me to the point - sorry, I know it's been a long time coming - that there's usually no profit in international sportsmen and women trying to win such a war of words.

Their talking has to be done on the field, on the track, in the pool or on the court. If they are going to employ the verbals, then do so from a position of strength. Giles basically had to suck it up and get back out there on the pitch and take some Australian wickets - and, to his credit, he did.

But he was lucky even to be in the side. His in-print outburst was the equivalent of painting a target on his forehead and hanging a sign on his back, saying: 'I'm a big, soft jelly baby and I want some nasty Australian to kick me in the cojones.' It's strange that Giles didn't heed the lessons of former England (and NZ-born) fast bowler Andy Caddick 10 or so years ago on tour in the West Indies, when a West Indian journalist wrote of Caddick's outsized ears: 'My God, I thought, if he trips, he will hang-glide.'

Making such personal attacks on sportsmen isn't really fair - Caddick ain't there for the shape of his ears, after all and journalists don't usually win any beauty contests either - but the worst thing to do is react. Caddick stood on his dignity and demanded an apology.

He got one - an 800-word tutorial in sarcasm which ended with 'I am very sorry indeed that Andy Caddick has big ears.' Not much was heard from Caddick for the remainder of the tour.

But even the most media-savvy make mind-blowing mistakes. Cue Sir Clive Woodward and Alastair Campbell and the biggest blue in international sport for many a year - the Tana Umaga incident which helped wind up the All Blacks hugely.

Cue Springbok coach Jake White, who snaked one off at Wallaby prop Bill Young last month, saying Young might make a fourth-grade side in South Africa. Australia thrashed the Springboks in the first Mandela Challenge match, running in athletic tries, with the scrum and Young holding their own.

Again, if you're using the verbals and/or the media, make sure you have a punch to back up the puff. Like Chelsea, who sent Bolton a CD of Chelsea celebration songs before their title-deciding clash in the Premiership this year. Bolton were outraged, held all sorts of team talks, pinned up the song-sheet in the changing room - and lost 2-0.

Like Merv Hughes, the ferociously moustachioed, macho and mound-middled Australian pace bowler. Merv was sending them down to West Indian superstar Vivian Richards and got under the normally unflappable Richards' skin. Hughes would stare Richards down after every delivery, saying nothing yet everything. Finally, Richards cracked. "Why you staring at me, man? It is not the thing to stare here. In our culture, we don't stare at people, man." Hughes took the outburst without reaction. He dismissed Richards a few balls later. As the 'master-blaster' walked off, Hughes said: "In our culture, we say 'piss off'." Ashley Giles can now have a cultural exchange of his own.

- HERALD ON SUNDAY