DOUG Walters told some hilarious beer drinking anecdotes with that mischievous grin. Andrew Symonds' less celebrated exploits in England were the source of constant, sometimes even pointed remarks. On Allan Border Medal night, don't let anyone tell you Aussie cricketers don't like a laugh.
That is unless the person making the joke happens to be that Pommy twerp Phil Tufnell and he interrupts the ritual back-slapping and self-congratulation with a pre-recorded monologue that mocks Australia's performance in the Ashes - just as we had taunted the English for their inept displays over 16 years.
Forget that Tufnell's rave was well scripted, funny and delivered with a devilish glint in the eye. When a to-and-from dares to remind our boys that the year's real cricket highlight came at their expense, suddenly they start to take themselves very seriously.
Then we see the humourless side of Australian cricket. The side that says winners are grinners. And if you beat us? Just shut the hell up. We get to see Ricky Ponting make pointed reference to Tufnell's remarks as he accepts the Allan Border Medal, warning the comments would be motivation for the next Ashes series.
Which makes you wonder which aspects of Tufnell's routine were so new to the skipper they would increase his arousal levels? Was it the bit about how Glenn McGrath's Ashes batting average was higher than Adam Gilchrist's? The line about Shane Warne waking up at night wondering if he had dropped the Ashes because he put down Kevin Pietersen twice in the final Test? (At Allan Border Medal night, of course, this line is funny only when used to mock Herschelle Gibbs for dropping the World Cup.) The reference to Ponting's ill-fated decision to insert England in the second Test?
The appearance of the affable Walters had been a pleasant reminder of how we like to see ourselves as a sporting nation: play hard, then have a beer and a laugh about it in the sheds. A nation that would easily shrug off the tongue-in-cheek ravings of Tuffers, a man who has parlayed his eccentric talents into a career as an amusing TV rent-a-buffoon.
Sadly, the reaction to his comedy instead said more about the nation we're becoming: triumphant in victory, precious, thin-skinned and defensive in defeat. One radio news bulletin described the light-hearted routine as a "spiteful send-up". Talkback callers lamented how such un-Australian sentiments could be uttered on this sacred night of nights. Tufnell could scarcely have caused more offence had he turned up to the Muslim Cricketer of the Year dinner with cartoons of Muhammad all over his napkin.
But given the nature of Allan Border Medal night, it should not be surprising that comments from outside the cosy world of Australian cricket are not welcome. This is, after all, an award in which the performances of only half the players in international matches are acknowledged.
For this reason, the voting system taken from the AFL's Brownlow Medal is fatally flawed. With only Australians awarded votes, a batsmen who scores a match-winning double century in a famous Test victory gets three votes, but so might a bowler who takes a modest 4-72 in an innings defeat. Surely the 3-2-1 votes should be awarded to the three best players in the match, not just the three best Australians.
The Australian votes could still be tallied separately with the relative impact of performances better reflected.
But, of course, that concept would acknowledge that the three best Australians were not always the three best players. It would betray the fact that we face opponents of equal, if not greater ability. And, as the reception to Tuffers' routine demonstrated, foreigners and their opinions are not welcome on Allan Border Medal night.
