Why have people in the Caribbean got so hot under the collar about Denesh Ramdin’s message – “Yea, Viv, talk nah” – to West Indies cricket legend turned commentator, Sir Vivian Richards?
Sure, Mr Ramdin could have chosen a subtler and less disrespectful way to make Mr Richards eat his words at Edgbaston on Sunday. But really, at the risk of upsetting further the great man’s devotees and the stuffed shirts, there has already been too much sanctimonious breast-beating and hot air about Mr Ramdin’s “dissing” of the “king”.
Mr Ramdin has expressed his regret at allowing his emotions to get the better of him. His captain has spoken with him. The International Cricket Council has fined him 20 per cent of his match fee for acting “contrary to the spirit of the game.” And there it should have ended.
But former cricketers, administrators, commentators and citizens have been lining up to have a go at the young man. Michael Holding, another former great turned commentator, who infamously kicked over the stumps in New Zealand in 1980, called Mr Ramdin’s behaviour “crass.” The Trinidad Guardian has spluttered, like a retired colonel awakened from a post-lunch slumber at Lord’s by exuberant West Indian fans, about a “disgraceful and disrespectful display” and “unsportsmanlike behaviour.” Others have railed about immaturity, arrogance and unprofessionalism. One letter writer has even sought to locate the defiant gesture in a curious, contradictory discourse about post-colonialism and freedom.
The responses for the most part, have been way over the top. It seems that, for many, Mr Ramdin’s crime is not so much an excess of hubris but an act of lèse-majesté against a West Indies cricketing icon. Let us try to bring a little perspective to bear.
When Mr Ramdin made one and six during the West Indies’ nine-wicket defeat in the second Test at Trent Bridge, Mr Richards said on BBC Radio that the wicketkeeper batsman had “deteriorated in such a big way” and looked a “totally lost guy.” That was a little harsh, given that Mr Ramdin had been out of the West Indies Test team for two years and it was only his fourth Test innings since his return. Not to mention the fact that every other West Indian batsman, apart from Shivnarine Chanderpaul, Marlon Samuels and Darren Sammy, had failed miserably in the series to date.
Indeed, in calling Mr Ramdin “lost,” Mr Richards was himself guilty of unwittingly giving credence to the narrative in the UK press that this West Indies team is made up of “waifs and strays.” But perhaps his comment could be attributed to his frustration and that of West Indian fans with the team’s disappointing performances over the years. Nonetheless, a little more context, as a professional commentator, which he now appears to be, would not have gone amiss.
Obviously, what Mr Richards said got under Mr Ramdin’s skin and he responded in the way every sportsman should – he performed on the field of play. Yet, in what was clearly a premeditated move, he wrote his message, carried it around in his pocket and, at his moment of triumph displayed it for all to see, belittling somewhat his own achievement.
In sport, as in other areas of human endeavour, nobody is above criticism and Mr Ramdin, as a professional cricketer, should have known that. Similarly, Mr Richards may be a cricketing god for many around the world, but his judgment is not absolute nor his word unquestionable. For is this not the same Viv Richards, who, as West Indies captain, stormed into a press box at the Antigua Recreation Ground to upbraid, with a veiled threat of grievous bodily harm, an English journalist who had dared to criticise him? Both men are, like us all, human beings with feet of clay.
People slam the current crop of West Indies players for being a feckless lot and for lacking the passion of their predecessors. It cannot be easy for them to play every game under the disapproving eyes of some of the legends and with the burden of the past weighing heavily on their shoulders. But now that one, his pride clearly hurt, has been motivated to produce the goods, he is being castigated for demonstrating the fire in his belly.
Mr Ramdin is paying the price for his indiscretion and, hopefully, will emerge a better cricketer and a stronger person. But can we not also simply place his response in the best tradition of Trinidadian ‘picong’ and West Indian ‘boldfacedness,’ in which we delight and which are part and parcel of our being? Do we take our heroes and ourselves so seriously that we have lost our sense of perspective?
