For Australians, baggy green on their head is a passion statement

Symbols are big in sport (because of sport’s essentially tribal nature), and the Aussies are big on symbols. And the logical conclusion — Aussies are big in sport — isn’t untrue either: They are world champions in cricket, rugby union, rugby league, swimming, occasionally tennis, all because of that indomitable Aussie spirit.

Much of the spirit comes from their amazing ability to coalesce and unify, the gelling factor being their sense of irreverence and defiance. Especially where their symbols are concerned. Think America, especially post 9/11: the Stars and Stripes, Uncle Sam, GI Joe. Everybody needs a rallying point.

And the Aussies take theirs seriously. A couple of weeks ago, the International Rugby Board decided that only official national anthems could be played as pre-match songs at the World Cup that began in Sydney on Friday.

That meant no singing of ‘Waltzing Matilda’, the popular song traditionally aired before every international match in Australia.

The decision sparked off a wave of protest in Oz, with even Prime Minister John Howard saying he would join in the singing. Eventually, 83,000 people sang Matilda — a typically defiant song about a sheep-rustler who prefers to die than get caught — at the opening ceremony. The Australian team won the match that followed.

Their rugby rivals across the Tasman Sea have a unique symbol: the Haka, a Maori war dance that the team performs before every match. It’s probably the most fearsome sight in sport: 15 strapping men dressed in black, chanting and flexing their muscles, all the while advancing in a line towards the opposing team.

The French do the same with their national anthem, the Marsellaise, probably the most bloodthirsty song to have evaded the parental guidance warning (check out the words on the Net). Written during the French Revolution, it is best heard full volume at the Stade de France before a football or rugby international.

This is much too rough for cricket, even Australian cricket, where gentler symbols serve their purpose as well. The Baggy Green isn’t the only accessory to Australian dominance of cricket; a poem, Under the Southern Cross, is recited/sung by players after every Test and one-day international won. According to Trevor Chesterfield (who, though a Kiwi, hunted in his library for information), the practice started in the pre-Packer days, during possibly the Benaud or Chappell eras.

It goes something like this:
Beneath the Southern Cross I stand
A branch of wattle in my hand
A native in my native land
Australia, you XXXX beauty
Whatever works, I guess.

We Indians, uncomfortable with public displays of emotion, have just come to embrace symbols (though Leander Paes set the trend a decade ago). It could be a simple gesture — hand over heart while the National Anthem is being played — or an elborate huddle, as first displayed during the World Cup earlier this year. It’s not entirely coincidental that a unified Team India began to take shape round about the time these practices were adopted.

There’s a long way to go, but we could perhaps borrow one practice from the Australian cricketers. For the current Test, they are wearing black armbands in memory of those killed in the Bali blast a year ago. The last time anyone can recall our cricketers wearing black armbands was for Mark Mascarenhas.