Scotty Stevenson: Outrage over Ross Taylor snub pointless

New Zealand's Ross Taylor raises his bat and gloves as he leaves the field in Perth. Photo / Getty Images

Within two days of watching their national side lose the rugby world cup final to the All Blacks, Australians were busy taking the afternoon off to drink large volumes of beer, pushover policemen and bet their week's take home pay on a horse race.

"Rugby World Cup? We're over that."

A few days after that, Australians were busy taking the afternoon off to drink large volumes of beer and to watch their cricketers do what they invariably do at the Gabba: win a test match. "Rugby World Cup? Can't remember that. Who won?"

A week after that, they were at it again, taking the afternoon off to drink large volumes of beer and to watch their cricketers do what they invariably do at the WACA: score a tonne of runs. And even though the Black Caps fought back; even though Ross Taylor upstaged the prancing, fist-pumping, cursing, spitting David Warner; and even though the Black Caps batsmen put Australia's bowlers in their place with a record first innings, here's what will happen today: Australians will move on.

Of course, New Zealanders won't. That's the problem with being the smaller sibling in this geo-political fraternity. We're hopelessly caught up in the need for big brother's approval. That's ostensibly why Kiwi fans were so outraged at the lack of gentlemanly conduct from Steve Smith's players as Taylor marched from the WACA pitch after scoring 290 runs without a solitary transtasman pat on the bum or shake of the hand.

Should the Australians have acknowledged Taylor's deeds in Perth? Of course they should have. But should their lack of respect for both Taylor and for the traditions of the game have been the major talking point after that heroic knock? Of course it shouldn't have been.

It shouldn't have been a surprise, either. Australians have always had a swagger New Zealanders find distasteful, and Australians, by turn, love the fact that that pisses us off. The reason they love to rub it in is that they know they will always get a rise out of us. They love to think of us sitting back, dressed head to toe in black, nursing our fragile egos in front of the heater while they hit the beach before hitting the pub before heading to the Kylie Minogue concert.

Australians love to tell jokes about New Zealanders, even though they have only two of them: one about sheep and one about accents. Australians love to take the mickey out of New Zealand's weather, even though they can boast just two kinds: hot and on fire. Australians love to laugh at our Prime Minister, even though they haven't voted for theirs for years, and don't know who it'll be tomorrow.

And in spite of all that lack of moral and factual foundation, and the actuality that they live on a continent which is approximately 99 per cent desert and in which almost all forms of native fauna are poisonous and/or deadly (including most of their politicians) Australians are at peace with one thing above all others: they're more than happy to leave the inferiority complex to New Zealand.

Which is exactly why the outrage over the Taylor snub is pointless, and why the approach of the Black Caps is so good.

There is little point trying to defeat Australians at their own game, they're much too good for that. They're just waiting for the nibble so they can make the strike. Brendon McCullum's quiet confidence is much more infuriating to the Aussie psyche than any pointless barb.

Rugby commentator and former All Blacks halfback Justin Marshall can still recall the test in which he finally lost it at the incessant chirping of his arch-rival George Gregan. After 60 minutes of listening to the great halfback's whining chat, Marshall finally had enough. "George!" He screamed. "Will you please just shut up!" Gregan paused for all of a second before the futility of Marshall's polite request became obvious.

"Oh, look at that, boys," Gregan barked. "Marshy's gone. We've got this in the bag."

No, best not to worry about the Australians at all. Best to leave them to their belligerence, beer, beaches and barbecues. Best we remind ourselves that we can move on, too.

After all, to paraphrase comedian Mike King: We might do that to sheep, but afterwards we export them to Australia, and they eat them.