Australia is poised to lose the Summer test series against India today but it won’t be for lack of motivation or work ethic. Having watched more hours of cricket this holiday break than I care to admit, even to myself, I’m struck by the allegory of my patriotic sporting binge as it relates to teams, timing, culture and performance. The good news is you don’t have to love cricket to get the point/s.
My New Year’s three-part question is this. Are there people in our teams, right under our noses, who:
- Aren’t getting the credit they deserve?
- Are being overshadowed by those who demand our attention or affirmation but have less substance or raw talent?
- Could absolutely fly if only we become attuned to those little things that could make all the difference?
Rishabh Pant has been a question mark for a long time because of his low run rate and the perception that he was a poor relation to MS Dohni as India’s premier wicket-keeper. His wicket-keeping through the series and his stunning first innings with the bat this test has brought him out of the shadows; an Indian superstar in the making. His poise and patience at the crease was wondrous to behold, only second to that of Chesharwar Pujara’s heart breaking innings that had barracking for his double century.
Kohli is a proud, some would say arrogant man. Yes, his wicket celebrations can be a bit over the top but I love his passion and honestly, his batting prowess justifies a little swag. However he is transitioning from elite batsman to captain and tactician. Leadership is developed through experience even if one is born with potential. At the end of Friday’s play, I saw Kohli get around each of his players. Patting their hearts, arms around shoulders, applauding them, imparting a word here or there. When he’s at the crease, he’s the man. When his opponents are sent into bat, in the twilight of the day’s play, having spent all day toiling in the hot sun, he knows there is no “I” in team.
Australia is long-admired for our fielding prowess. Indeed, so often a catch taken in the slips or the outfield is made to look so easy that we’re shocked when one gets dropped. But being blessed with fast-twitch muscles, even superb hand-eye coordination (I assume that’s what commentators mean when they say exceptional batters see the ball early and play late) doesn’t take the place of practice, and often the practice in the most unlikely of one percenters…. just in case… because you never know… This is often the difference between really good and great. Warnie talked about Kohli’s net practice. He said Kohli puts down a shoe and doesn’t stop practising until he has hit that shoe over and over and over again. How much do we practise to achieve flawless execution, especially such high levels under “exam conditions”? Yes, the journey from good to great.
The coverage this year has been made better by the new commentary team. I love Isa Guha’s contribution. I would have loved it in 2012 after she retired as a bowler for England from international cricket. But it took the #MeToo movement and a revocation of Channel Nine’s 40-plus years of cricket coverage to bring new faces, male and female to the screen.
The only difference between the performance of knowledgeable, articulate and insightful women and the commentary team of yesteryear was deciding to contract them. Don’t think for a moment though that the double standard has been swept away. I fancy it is not coincidental she is young, slim and attractive. She sits along side Shane Warne who told me in his book he has never had plastic surgery and Kerry “Skull” O’Keefe who I’m has not!
In a world where many people work to acquire generic, portable skills, no team can over perform without its domain experts, its specialists. How wonderful to hear Brett Lee and Adam Gilchrist provide insights into the thought processes of bowlers and keepers out there in the field? And how exhilarating to watch the magic of specialist spin bowlers like Nathan “Garry” Lyon. I shudder to think what our test season could have been without him in the side.
. In the aftermath of the ball tampering scandal I about last April, the Australian team is down two of its best players and its entire senior leadership team. In the experimental environment of a team rebuild, few of our batsmen have performed well enough to be assured of a place in the upcoming one dayers, much less our Ashes squad. The crippling pressure of a new team fighting for redemption and respect against a top competitor has made it hard for them to operate “in the zone”. I see this in my consulting work every day. At one end of the continuum are people whose job security is beyond doubt which allows some of them to lose their sense of “Why”, stay too long, sell themselves short and cultivate a culture of mediocrity. At the other end of the continuum where players are fearful of failure, flooded with emotion, are too physiologically aroused, we know . Marcus Harris, batting on the weekend, knowing that India’s first two days’ performance almost assured India of a match and series win, batted confidently, fluidly and without fear. He neither threw away his wicket nor played it too safe. With Aussie spirit broken after two days with Cheteshwar Pujara, Pant and Ravindra Jadeja at the crease, Australia’s loss was virtually assured. This freed up Harris to play well for his 79 runs, and the likely highest score in the Australian innings. No hint of desperation. No risk of being blamed. And as opener for Australia, no expectation he would be solely responsible for clutching victory from the jaws of defeat.
Every team needs at least one person who can read the context, observe what is happening with razor sharp acuity and know what to do next. With literally thousands of sports journalists in Australia and half of the rest of us wishing we were too, there is no shortage of musings, diagnostic firepower and unsolicited commentary on every move, snicko, opinion and selection. But nothing to me this season has been more impressive than watching the maestro Shane Warne, analyse a series of balls bowled and predict what the bowler was trying to do only to have the bowler do that… next ball (See ). If only all my clients had that acuity to be plugged in to the moods, values, beliefs and skills of each of their players, predict what was likely to happen next and either circumvent or capitalise.
If we could do what Warnie can do, then organisations would not spend months, even years on lavish change management programs only to have them fail miserably. Even if the physical/process/digital change is delivered, how do the staff feel about it and about themselves afterwards? Why do we end up scratching our heads wondering why we didn’t see something coming as we do our own metaphorical version of trudging back to the pavilion, out for a duck.
. I must continue my allegory on Warne because it’s the most humbling lesson for me. I was always a fan of his bowling. What’s not to admire in someone almost universally labelled the greatest leg spinner of all time? For twenty years he was my pet example of someone who seemed to get away with a lot of bad behaviour because his performance was outstanding. And I have seen what that does to the fabric of teams and to the individuals on the receiving end of indiscretions and harassment and bullying and other forms of counterproductive workplace behaviour just because the perpetrator is a superstar (Yes, David Warner. if the baggy green cap fits….). But Warne’s bogan brashness, his criticism of Steve Waugh’s obsession with the baggy green cap belies his patriotism, his commitment to excellence, his tactical genius, his courage to call things as he sees them, to enjoy life and to love passionately – his country, his sport, his children, his football club, his close friends, indeed his . While his book will never win a Pulitzer prize, neither will this article. He has his moments. He can be impulsive and temperamental and trade on his name and reputation when convenient. Mavericks are not easy to have around but if we know how to get the best of them and set non- negotiable limits about the few things we will not tolerate under any circumstances (like sandpaper underpants on the field and trading above authorised discretions in banking), they can and will make extraordinary contributions to a team.
Much has been said in the media about allegedly frank, fearless and even uncomfortable conversations between coaches and players at the end of the first day of this fourth test. Ribald and robust conversations in the locker room may not suit white collar corporate cultures (if indeed they have their place anywhere at all and some will argue they don’t). But in teams where people worry they risk friendships, the silent treatment or retribution when they’re honest, the team will never achieve what it could. Friendship at work is a bonus. All team members must feel safe to give and receive feedback; always aligned with the team’s stated and shared and in keeping with shared values and agreed . For every one of us armchair commentators who say that being a team player means being considerate of others’s feelings (and I’m one of them), being a team player also means being willing to stick our necks out and get comfortable with the uncomfortable if it’s going to make us . A robust feedback culture is not just about honesty when we give feedback. It also means hearing that which we would rather not.
Many of us will look forward to the feel-good accolades, the trophies, the awards nights – even the after-parties. But we first have to put ourselves in a position to qualify for such recognition. Celebrating success as much as anything else goes to that intangible quality in a great team – team spirit, heart and compassion. Digressing momentarily from test cricket to the Big Bash competition, I’ve been moved by the way Aussies have been moved; showing their compassion and affirmation for Rashid Khan, an Afghani bowler playing for the Adelaide Strikers despite losing his father last week. Each announcement he was to bowl an over was met with thunderous applause despite allegiances. We would all have understood if he had flown home. He embodies the one ingredient in exceptional teams consistently taken for granted.
. Charette is said to have remarked in 1796 that one can’t make an omelette without breaking a few eggs. Commitment to being a team cannot be taken as a given and that commitment, especially in the midst of discomfort and hardship, must be a full-throated commitment.
For those of us who lead, and that’s anyone who influences, leadership must inspire and enable exceptional performance, not “drive” it. Please excuse the weak cricket pun at the end. Couldn’t help myself.