More than six years ago, at the height of Sandpapergate, I wrote an article that began with an unflattering description of David Warner: “the most unpleasant player on the most unpleasant team in the world.”
It was hard, for sure. And the Australians – under the more enlightened leadership of Pat Cummins and the less abrasive coaching of Andrew McDonald – no longer hold that title. (Sometimes it seems as if Bazball England has replaced them.)
But in Warner's case, was it fair? The question arose after its last insertion in the Australian discourse. With the Test team looking for a first match to cover Steve Smith's insalvable return to the middle order, Warner announced his availability for the five-Test series against India, which begins in Perth on November 22.
Warner, remember, retired from Test cricket in January, having irritated some by spending three matches against Pakistan that could have been more useful to an opener with a future.
In that sense, his latest intervention seems typical: Warner has always been a disruptor, on and off the court. And, for this Pommie journalist, this raised an unexpected thought: do we really, against our better judgement, miss the old rogue?
David Warner found himself at the center of Sandpapergate in South Africa in 2018.

The incident further damaged his reputation after he previously punched Joe Root (left) in a Birmingham pub.

Warner also accused Jonathan Trott (pictured) of having 'scared eyes' before quitting the 2013-14 Ashes tour with a stress-related illness.
England's tour of Pakistan provided occasional reminders that we – both the public and the media – should reject the banalities of press conferences. And while Warner didn't always sell the game the way his bosses wanted, he could never be accused of keeping cricket out of the headlines. Their truth was often stranger than fiction.
If he wasn't throwing a punch at Joe Root in a Birmingham pub, he was accusing Jonathan Trott of having 'scared eyes' in Brisbane, not long before Trott left the 2013-14 Ashes tour with a stress-related illness .
If he wasn't howling like the Hound of the Baskervilles after AB de Villiers' defeat in a check in Durban three weeks before the sandpaper farrago, he was stirring things up as the focal point of the Australian players' continuing contract disputes with its administrators. It was never boring, frequently scandalous. Journalists who were offended by him, including this one, also agreed that he gave good copy; The overlap in the Venn diagram was large.
He even oscillated between nicknames (the Bull and the Reverend) depending on the role his team attributed to him. And this is where, against all odds, Warner deserved sympathy.
From thousands of miles away in England, it seemed as if he was all too eager to please a team that was grateful to have an attack dog when it suited them, a player willing to transgress the legendary “line” that got Australia into such a situation. tangle. . And they were even more grateful to have a scapegoat when sandpaper dirt hit the fan in Cape Town.
It is still to be believed that a ruse devised to help Australian seamers achieve reverse swing was the exclusive domain of their top-order batsmen: Warner, Cameron Bancroft and Steve Smith. Bowlers hate it when someone else touches the ball without their permission, let alone scratches it.
Perhaps the funniest tangent came when Stuart Broad, touring New Zealand, wondered with an angelically serious face why the Australians had felt the need to hit the ball when they had achieved the reverse-swing so easily and at such unexpected moments. , during the 2017-18 Ashes.
What followed in Cape Town was an exercise in hypocrisy that the English recognize only too well: accepted as the cause of the team's antics, Warner was quickly dismissed merienda the extent of the antics became known.

Warner held a tearful press conference after Sandpapergate, but garnered little sympathy from fans.

It didn't help that Warner's press conference came after Steve Smith broke down in tears on his own shortly before.
It didn't help that he held a tearful press conference after Smith held his. Smith's tears were most easily described as genuine, as if Warner – a caricature in the public's mind – was constitutionally incapable of feeling remorse. (In fact, both men seemed genuinely upset: it was just that the gap between Warner's personality and his crying in front of the cameras was greater than it was for Smith.)
And if Warner had played any role in his own dehumanization, can everyone in the cricket community claim, hand on heart, that they had nothing to do with the process?
On the field too, Warner provided column inches, being one of the few non-English players who could reliably interest English sports editors. His increasingly one-sided battle with Broad generated thousands of words, many of them laced with schadenfreude.
England loved to take its turf, not only because there always seemed to be some score to settle, but because it could be destructive, that is, at home, not abroad. Of 35 Ashes innings in this country, he averaged 26; of 19 in India, 21. He scored a Test century in neither, a huge gap in the resume of a player who aspired to greatness and occasionally touched it.
In Australia, it was another matter. In his first Ashes at home, in 2013-14, he always seemed to be the guy rubbing the English's noses with a sadistic score in the third innings after a big lead: 124 in Brisbane, 83 not out in Adelaide, 112 in Perth. That also seemed to fit his character.

Warner has calmed down after marrying Candice Falzon (right) and becoming a father.

Warner has been treated cruelly by the crowd but could now end his career on a high in Australia as he looks set to captain the Sydney Thunder in the upcoming Massive Bash.
But what was that character? In England, we probably never knew the full story, even as we wondered why sections of the Australian media seemed so determined to save Warner from… what? – himself.
Other currents would emerge. He had paid his parents' credit card bills. He mellowed after marrying Candice Falzon and becoming a father. He practiced mindfulness. He and his family were cruelly treated by the South African crowds.
When Cricket Australia's conduct commission last week lifted the life captaincy ban imposed after Sandpapergate, the text praised the fact that he “no longer sledges or attempts to provoke the opposing team”. It was tempting to shout, 'Rosette for Davey!'
On the other hand, if he leads the Sydney Thunder in the Massive Bash, it will be strange to rediscover the Reverend instead of the Bull. What will happen to Warner if he doesn't like it? It's unclear… and slightly disturbing.
Pakistani soap opera continues
As soon as Shan Masood scored an unbeaten six-ball 23 to seal Pakistan's series victory over England, their first Test win at home against any nation since early 2021, Ramiz Tajada ridiculed him live on television.
Masood is one of the good guys of the game, although he could be blamed for losing his role in the incessant soap opera that is Pakistan cricket. On Monday, Gary Kirsten resigned as white-ball coach, having yet to officiate in any one-day international matches.
Now, in his prime, he was mocked for the six defeats that preceded the two victories. 'By the way, how did you achieve this?' Ramiz asked himself. 'Six losses in a row. I mean, even if you try… Masood tried to respond, but it was no use: the victory over England might never have happened.

Shan Masood hit the winning runs to guide Pakistan to a series victory over England.

But just minutes later, Masood was being ridiculed live on television by commentator Ramiz Tajada (pictured).
Bazball still brings out the best in England
The suspicion that every test is a referendum on Bazball has never felt more true than in Pakistan. Bazball is not – I repeat, not – a guarantee of victory, but rather an attempt to get the best out of a group of players who, man for man, are inferior to Australia and India, and who therefore need to try something a little different. . .
It doesn't always work, and England's difficulties changing lanes are nothing new. But this was only his second defeat in nine games under Brendon McCullum and Ben Stokes, and included his biggest total outside of non-seasonal Tests.
It sure beats what came before.

Despite losing in Pakistan, Ben Stokes and Brendon McCullum still give this England team the best chance of winning matches with their Bazball approach.
New Zealand history makers crush Gamball
Apologies. This column may have given the impression a few weeks ago that India – and 'Gamball' – had cracked the cricket code and would embark on an unbeaten streak that would last 1,000 years. We are not counting on New Zealand, who last week in Pune became the first visiting team to win a Test series in India in 12 years, their best ever result.