Oh, Special K.
This blog started with a picture of Katich's roar, and together we've been through his bristling 5 o'clock shadows, seen the Hard Man clicking his heels and pondered the quality of Balkan Haut over crêpe layer cake.
And there they were at the press conference - the bristle, the roar, the "deliciously dangerous" of the Balkan Haut. Half-way through, Katich said "I know I'm not the prettiest bloke to watch", and everyone chuckled, through probably not for the same reason I practically fell off my chair. It was over before I had the chance to put up my hand and ask "How is it you are so dreamy?"
Peter Roebuck wrote of Katich in his postmortem today, "Hairy, cussed and wilful, he has been a man apart." I have stated my position on "cussedness" previously, but I love that he chose to lead with "hairy", and strongly suspect him of owning a cache of Men in Cricket calendars.
All summer I felt someone needed to have a little chat with the Australian cricket team and administrators about Aristotle and Bergson and the distinction between potentiality and actuality. That actuality comes before potentiality, however counter-intuitive that might seem. That things are only possible after they are real. And that, as a result, claims to excellence based on potential wear very thin if you are not actually performing.
I did not expect to have to go on to explain the converse, namely the weirdness of claiming someone is not excellent, based on their potential, when they are actually performing.
