Joseph, The Pope, and the Sinner
That's Shamar, Ollie, and Jannik.
No, it's neither a Dan Brown thriller nor a Harlan Coben Netflix drama—just an introduction to spotlight the achievements of three immensely talented young athletes this past weekend.
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Australia Day has always felt awkward to me. The day (weekend) couldn't be further divorced from its complex origins. As has long been the case, it's best for me to observe from a distance—a place where many Australians now find themselves.
That said, a trio of relatively young and unheralded sports stars shared a weekend to remember. In their own small way, the extraordinary performances of Shamar Joseph, Ollie Pope, and Jannik Sinner helped their teams/sports regain some relevance in an increasingly chaotic global sporting landscape.
180 odd weeks separate the youngest, Jannik Sinner, and the oldest, Ollie Pope. In some cases, three years can be a career in professional sport; in this instance, you would need help distinguishing how old each was and who was the youngest and oldest. Each played with the whimsical abandon usually reserved for schoolboys or the rich and famous. It was genuinely refreshing viewing.
For the record, Sinner is 22, Joseph 24, and Pope, the Daddy at 26.
Both Cricket and Tennis each face their own share of identity crisis syndrome.
Although there's little doubt Cricket leads the race in this space. Three distinct formats, including a newcomer that presents as a millennial disrupter, cause the second-most popular sport in the world to continually fight with itself rather than championing its iconic virtues. Hardly a day passes without someone writing off cricket as we know it. And then Shamar Joseph turns up, and Ollie Pope does what he did!
Tennis seems different. The week before last, I spent a day at the Australian Open; it was everything I didn't think it would be. Yes, I was sceptical; I often am about the stuff I'm not familiar with. Still, it was a delightful day—or experience.
Nevertheless, Tennis is transitioning; Roger Federer is now consigned to sustained fatherhood; Rafa Nadal is slipping into the 'Tiger Woods' category of ailing superstar; and Novak Djokovic is finally entering his 'twilight zone'. Yes, to many more ardent Tennis supporters, there appears to be a lengthening void in its identity. Enter Jannik Sinner and others
First, Sinner was once a skiing prodigy. Growing up in Northern Italy, close to the Austrian border, he was one of the country's leading prospects in the giant slalom, an event that requires elastic feet, speed, technical know-how, and a healthy dose of courage. He found skiing too volatile - one mistake, and you're done. Tennis filled the certainty void that skiing created. In his mid-teens, he decided to move south in search of warmer temperatures and better coaching. Sinner's Tennis quickly took off.
Later, after a temperately successful junior career, Sinner grew wings, becoming the first player born in the 2000s to enter the top 10 in rankings after reaching his first major semifinal at the 2023 Wimbledon Championships. He won his first Masters 1000 title at the 2023 Canadian Open, finishing the season by reaching the final of the ATP Finals and leading Italy to win the 2023 Davis Cup title for the first time in 47 years.
Disregarding Novak Djokovic labelling his loss to Sinner in the Australian Open semifinal as "one of my worst slam matches," nothing should be taken away from the 22-year-old's performance against the 10-time champion of Rod Laver Arena. Sinner sent Djokovic to the locker after four sets of near-flawless Tennis.
Later in his press conference, Djokovic graciously acknowledged Sinner's Tennis—the 34-year-old Serbian gives nothing away lightly, notably in this corner of the Tennis world.
Sunday's men's final saw Daniil Medvedev having his way with Sinner. The fans—me included—wished for a contest, had Sinner played his final Friday afternoon. Medvedev played quickly and true; his Tennis is pleasing to the eye; there's no fluff, no player box full of hangers-on, just those that matter and can be there. I was torn between disruption and sentiment. Disruption won out. Sinner rallied late in the second set, gained ground in the third, and came home with a wet sail to win in five sets.
In the most dramatic fashion, it was the arrival of a new tennis superstar. A new generation is forming, preparing to move Tennis beyond the 'big three'.
Bravo Jannik.
Here's some old news: Shamar Joseph is a fledging West Indian cricketer from Guyana.
He bowls fast, real fast. Have you heard that before? Yes. It's been a while, true, though, and the most astonishing fact about this revelation is that we are actually talking about him at all. Oh, and he bats number 11; that's 'Jack' in old terms; you're supposed to do little in this position. Joseph still needed to read the job description. He batted like an imposter—I guess he was.
Born in the remote village of Baracara, in deepest Guyana—only accessible by boat, Joseph played his first game of meaningful cricket barely 11 months ago, when representing Guyana! Before this, Joseph's cricket education was confined to Sundays, using anything round to bowl with and any objects that resembled a bat. On weekdays, he worked, and on Saturday, it was church and rest.
His debut Test in Adelaide was a dream—a techno-coloured one. Joseph dismissed Steve Smith with his first ball in Test Cricket—of course, he did—and later bashfully asked Smith if he would pose in a selfie; after all, who in Baracara would believe him without evidence!
And then to Brisbane, pink ball and cricket at night! Here, Shamar Joseph bowled the West Indies to a remarkable test victory over the World Champion, Australia.
The Test match went back and forth over the first three innings, with the West Indies not just keeping pace; in some instances, they found themselves ahead of their celebrated hosts. Australia's batting has been quietly failing for some time, hidden by their bowling team's sustained quality.
This time, though, it was on the batting group. Australia bats (one and three) more than (two and four); not that long ago, they would bat just one or two, not needing a second innings. Yes, this time, they did and were presented with a middling yet tricky target of 216.
They found themselves in comfortable waters cruising at 2–113 early on day four. The sparse Australian crowd in the Gabba could not have imagined what came next!
Enter the kid from Baracara. Shamar Joseph—bowling with a foot injury caused by a toe-crushing Mitchell Starc yorker—Joseph blew the Australian batting away in a 10-over spell of sustained and hostile fast bowling. Only Steve Smith—Joseph's buddy, not bunny—withstood the onslaught. This had to be a story that was meant to be. The West Indies won the Test by just eight runs in a breathtakingly dramatic finish; Joseph finished with seven for 68. Many retired Caribbean pacers will have been staring longingly into their after-dinner cocktails on the back of Joseph's heroics.
I, and much of the cricket, would be crossing fingers and feet, wishing for this to be a genuine point in time for West Indies cricket. It must rid itself of the administrative woes that have beset this alluring brand of cricket for decades. Reward this group of young cricketers with some sense of monetary certainty, engage them in the rebuild, and trust them. As they sing, 'Rally around the West Indies'.
Wake up, Baracara, your boy has come of age!
Ollie Pope carries more baggage than the other two; he's older, more experienced—with that comes more significant levels of procrastination—and carries a tag of responsibility. An interesting starting point.
Cricket vice-captaincy is—in my opinion—a worthless label.
How could this union work? Captain Stokes is from the street; he operates on the edge, at the fringes of normality, and Pope, born in Chelsea, was ushered through a private school and enjoyed an uneventful rise through the Surrey ranks. Chalk and cheese, poles apart, incompatible?
What Kamala Harris is to Joe Biden, Ollie Pope is to Ben Stokes. As vice-captain to cricket's most autocratic yet imaginative captain, Pope's influence on England's direction is minimal; Stokes himself seems to have little idea what he might do next, preferring an intuitive approach, rendering Pope's position practically redundant, much like Harris's influence on the leadership of the Western world. In the grand scheme of things, neither carries much of a load until, in Pope's case, the media decide to play the responsibility card if and when Pope finds batting form elusive- don't get me started here; it may never end. And, for the record, I am not saying Joe Biden's leadership is imaginative! Please!
Like Shamar Joseph and the West Indies, Pope and England teetered on the precipice of disaster. Five wickets down in their second innings and still 30-odd runs behind, the Test should merely fizzle out to a predictable Indian victory. Enter Ben Foakes. Yes, Foakes, not Stokes!
This isn't about Ben Foakes, but it does take two to tango. The Pope and Foakes partnership hauled England back into the contest; it was both timely and productive—Ben Foakes played his part.
Given a somewhat excitable failure in the first innings, and it being Pope's first Test back since his Ashes dislocated shoulder, the 26-year-old could have been forgiven for doubting his role in all of this.
And then, over the course of six hours, Pope compiled a masterpiece.
John Wooden, one of Basketball's most celebrated coaches, said often, "Make every day your masterpiece." Pope did just that, making 196 against the world's premier spin attack on a turning pitch in the third innings, facing a 190-run deficit. Shades of 1981.
With over 11,000 Test runs in the bank, Joe Root heralded Pope's hand as a "new benchmark" in batsmanship. It should be said, though, that Bazball has not only been credited with the resurrection of English cricket but has also infiltrated the self-commentary that emanates from their impregnable dressing room. Boldness bordering on bullshit has replaced timidity.
England prevailed in an astonishing 28-run win. Ollie Pope transcended the classes between the captain and his deputy. Stokes and Pope sat and spoke from the same songbook when all was said and done. England might have a stronger deputy than Mr Biden.
In a time when dominance in sports often feels preordained and dynastic, last weekend was a refreshing reminder that new stars can emerge without warning. Jannik Sinner, Shamar Joseph and Ollie Pope each authored their own stories, overcoming the odds through prodigious talent and old-fashioned determination. In a world that continues to change and confuse, we can appreciate the unpredictable magic that sports can create when raw, youthful ability converges with opportunity.
As always, thank you for being here.
Brilliantly written Nick and most of your opinions I can relate to..(ending a sentence with a proposition)… Keep them coming…😃