Gilly just being silly

There are only two Adam Gilchrists. The one who masquerades as the caretaker of all cricketing principles, and the one we recognise as being just as underhand and opportunistic as the next player.

You never know which one you'll hear from next, these days. Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde had nothing on this bloke.

It was the latter who erupted into print last week, not only questioning the honesty and integrity of Indian superstar Sachin Tendulkar, but also suggesting that Australian cricketers demonstrated far better sportsmanship than their Indian counterparts.

Why? Because the 'straines knew how to shake hands after on-field dramas and leave any ill-feeling behind.

He was being serious, by all accounts; not a hint of tongue-in-cheek or self-deprecating humour in sight. I know: an Australian not only acknowledging the existence of the spirit of the game, but accusing the opposition of not playing within it.

The fascinating allegations are made in Gilchrist's autobiography True Colours, serialised in newspapers this weekend, reportedly sparked by last summer's acrimonious series between Australia and India, during which Andrew Symonds and Harbhajan Singh clashed at the Sydney Cricket Ground.

This was the Monkeygate affair in which Harbhajan was initially banned for three tests and then cleared on appeal, to the horror of the home side.

Gilly, The Batsman Who Always Walked, generously lays the entire blame for the controversy at the foot of Anil Kumble's tourists, and an Indian predilection towards being sore losers.

"In the Australian mentality, we play it hard and are then quick to shake hands and leave it all on the field," he says. "Some of our opponents don't do it that way.

Sachin Tendulkar, for instance, can be hard to find for a changing room handshake after we have beaten India. Harbhajan can also be hard to find."

Gilchrist also questioned Tendulkar's motive for changing his story about what he overheard during Symonds' exchange with Harbhajan, virtually accusing the batting ace of fabricating his evidence.

"The Indians got him off the hook when they, of all people, should have been treating the matter of racial vilification with the utmost seriousness."

The Indians "of all people"? Do Indians have to put up with more racial vilification than other ethnic groups?

Or is Gilchrist just saying they have to in Australia?

Whatever the case, book previews make no mention of the resulting disciplinary hearing, when Justice John Hansen effectively said that even if Harbhajan had called Symonds a monkey, it wouldn't have been out of order given the level of abuse he'd initially been subjected to: "Even if he had used the words alleged, an ordinary person standing in the shoes of Mr Symonds, who had launched an unprovoked and unnecessary invective-laden attack, would not be offended or insulted or humiliated ..."

Gilchrist, who despite walking never recognised anything inconsistent in supporting his team-mates' fraudulent appealing for wickets, could see little wrong with the conduct of any Australian player.

The visiting team's management acted "disgracefully", apparently; the International Cricket Council and Cricket Australia had "caved in", and the successful appeal against Harbhajan's initial ban had been "a joke".

But not a word of criticism for any of his mates, not even serial-offender and arch-stirrer Symonds, his barney-baiting best friend, Matthew Hayden, or the inflammatory manner of skipper Ricky Ponting.

In his recent book, Daniel Vettori described the trio as "the three most overtly aggressive players in world cricket", but only after dramatically toning down his language.

I doubt he's alone with this judgement. Hayden will not be remembered fondly outside Aussie, Symonds' reputation is in tatters and Ponting's captaincy has been as dull as his temperament has been unsavoury.

Add Michael Clarke, who was virtually dismissed as an unreliable witness during last summer's disciplinary hearing, and it's difficult to accept Gilchrist's claim that the Australians were innocent onlookers.

Sydney-based writer Mike Coward once authored a book that examined the lack of cultural understanding many of his compatriots had of the Indian belief and value system, and vice-versa.

From the sounds of Gilchrist's bleating, he could do worse than have a skim through it.

Although if he genuinely believes that all cricketers should genuflect to the Australian culture, leave all controversies on the field and simply shake hands afterwards, he's probably beyond help.

Hypocrisy? The Australians had it in for Harbhajan, for a start.

They didn't leave that on the field. Neither did they hold their tongues when the New Zealanders had a bust-up with Brad Haddin for running on the pitch during the third Chappell-Hadlee one-dayer last summer.

Ponting immediately spilled his guts to the local media, resulting in a blow-by-blow account of the incident in the following morning's newspapers. And when Gilchrist had a set-to with Craig McMillan over an umpiring decision at the Gabba in 2004, the Aussie gloveman didn't hesitate to publicly defend himself.

And just on that, why should the worst excesses be left on the field.

To protect who, exactly? I can't be sure, but I'd be surprised if Glenn Turner was available for a friendly chat with Ian Chappell after the historic 1974 test at Lancaster Park, during which the New Zealand opening batsman was subjected to a reportedly abusive tirade from the Australian captain, which may or may not have included comments about his wife.

And I wonder what Mathew Sinclair must think of some of his former New Zealand team-mates, particularly the most senior members who sledged him in a similarly nauseating manner during early provincial games.

From what we've seen, one version of Gilchrist would doubtless condemn such behaviour as being unacceptable, and in complete contravention of the spirit of the game.

Unless, of course, it was perpetrated by Australians. In that case, the other Gilly would probably egg on his team-mates.