Rebounding Black Caps can inspire Australia to clear the stench

Everyone is having a good laugh at Australia’s expense at the moment.

Our cricket team is stuck in the middle of the imbroglio and performance poverty that the game’s cyclical storms of various controversies tend to cause.

Right now, the dark cloud of despair is lurking heavily over the peak of the Baggy Green just like the flatulence your mate produces after a night of Coronas and spicy tacos, and a burst of unpolluted oxygen appears nowhere in sight.

However, we followers of Michael Clarke’s/Shane Watson’s/anyone but David Warner’s band of battlers should look through the haze across the Tasman for inspiration from our neighbours.

Bruce Martin: he's old, he's unfashionable and I wish he was Australian.

Bruce Martin: he’s old, he’s unfashionable and I wish he was Australian.

Cast your mind back. Remember the dense funk of doom that was perched on the door of New Zealand Test cricket just a few months ago?

It was the greatest drama to come out of the Shaky Isles since Outrageous Fortune, when the Ross Taylor fiasco meshed together with the unspeakable horror of repeated clobberings in South Africa.

Many claimed the game in its longer form in New Zealand had begun the process of a slow death by self-combustion, a demise theory that grew further legs upon the sparking-up of Martin Crowe’s blazer by it’s owner.

It seemed another collapse or innings loss and the team would’ve folded in on itself. Time to close up shop and just concentrate on one-dayers and rugby.

But now as their arm-wrestle series with second-ranked England moves into a decider at Eden Park, it looks as though a hardy nucleus of Black Caps is slowly germinating that should mean things aren’t going to be as dire in the future for our cousins as once predicted.

So far against the might of a world class English outfit, there’s been the unearthing of ‘Son of K-Ruth’ Hamish Rutherford, the reliable blue-collar slog of in-to-the-wind donkey Neil Wagner and the guile of honest offie Bruce Martin, the latter a man who has thoroughly out-bowled his slow-bowling adversary Monty Panesar in this series, and who at 32 appears to have at least another 18 months of straight-breaking nudes in him before the torturous symptoms of arthritis take hold.

Plus new skipper Brendon McCullum has sprung back to his bright and breezy best after a pair of high-octane knocks, both which should help to kick-start the dissolution of the ugly memories of his ironclad alliance to BFF and coach Mike Hesson throughout the Taylor saga.

Add to this the further rise in reputation of Kane Williamson and BJ Watling, Taylor’s recalibration into the team environment and the eventual return of Martin Guptill, and Kiwi fans are beginning to be able to watch their team bat again without the need for covering their eyes in fear.

Sure, these newly-cleared skies for New Zealand may be clouded by the fact there has been some dozy wickets, a standard dosage of precipitation and some sloppy sessions of trade from Alastair Cook’s men, but we shouldn’t let facts get in the way of a feel good story, especially if it’s helping a sad Aussie out of a rut of dejection.

The main point here is that McCullum’s men are beginning to emerge out the other side of one of the game’s ruinous storms by showing the ticker and talent to prove they don’t belong in the Test dump.

England’s mighty Test outfit may flex their considerable muscle and pinch the decider in Auckland this weekend, but nonetheless the Kiwis should be happy with their progress. There’s clear air beginning to take over that crudely pungent stench of recycled Old El Paso that was around before.

Take note, nay saying stone-kicking Australians. Let this light your fire of belief!

Or if you prefer, we can always just jump on the Black Cap bandwagon.

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