The side’s only hope lay in a burst of genius but that goes against the veryethos of modern New Zealand sides
Osman Samiuddin in Centurion06-Oct-2009After a while you have to wonder about New Zealand. They have been immensegetting to this final, spirited and resolute. But a brief spell with theball apart, for about 20 overs, they didn’t look like they were going togo further. They fought and made sure Australia had to break sweat, whichis an achievement also because this was an Australia really in the mood.But the deed always seemed done and the ceiling not in danger of beingbroken.So the gods have not been kind to New Zealand in this tournament and thehighest cruelty was reserved for the final, with Daniel Vettori’s latewithdrawal. Having been up against it right through, this was the one blowfrom which they really couldn’t be expected to recover. The only hope thenlay in a burst of genius from somewhere, some individual, most likelyBrendon McCullum, but maybe even Ross Taylor. It goes against the veryethos of modern New Zealand sides but it is what was needed and it nevercame.They will and should be proud of what they have achieved here, especiallywith the circumstances in which they did it. But somewhere alongside,there might also be creeping in this feeling about just when and how andif they will break through that final barrier. The bottom line, harsh asit is, concerns itself only with winning big tournaments and New Zealandhave won just one. They had then, in Chris Cairns, precisely the kind ofindividual who could and did change the course of matches and make acontribution greater than that made by the rest of their parts. Theirs isfamously a small pool of talent and their history has been about squeezingout of that just about as much as they can. Occasionally they unearth adiamond and hopes brighten. But when they don’t have that kind of player,how to go further, past that last obstacle? Is it even possible with whatthey have? The dilemma isn’t easily resolved.At moments tonight when they were batting, they looked hopelessly limitedagainst this Australian attack. Typically they hung on, for few NewZealand sides will surrender abruptly, to make a total they could at leastthink about defending. Shane Bond and Kyle Mills went about the task withmighty hearts and no little skill. Their opening bursts were the mostcaptivating moments of the match. Each ball carried the threat of wickets.In particular Bond was a sight, a reminder of what a special bowler he is.Injuries and the ICL have taken away from him the aura of old. But he hashad a good tournament, slowly working his way back and up to somethingresembling what he once was. In his first spell he was the famous Bond of2002, the one who humbled great Australian sides often enough. The lengthshe bowled, the pace, and the movement in and out; a solitary wicket wasunjust reward.But once he and Mills were done, New Zealand were again struggling,searching, striving for anything to put them on something remotelyresembling an even keel. Ian Butler and James Franklin did all they could,and they bowled well in patches, but they never looked like changing thegame. The last hope was the sky-high, top-edged pull off Cameron White,only to be dropped by McCullum. It wasn’t simple but it was absolutelyvital. A buzz of boundaries came immediately after – as so often seems tobe the case when an Australian gets a life – the pressure was released andthat was that.More fancied teams have lost to Australia in big finals so there is noshame in this. But there isn’t much joy in it either. That kind of sums upNew Zealand not only in this final, another ICC final cursed to eventuallybe a dud, but beyond that, until and if they ever break through.
