Sometimes sport isn't fair – but that's OK, neither is life

Unpredictable, filled with strange rules and often not rewarding the truly deserving, there can be no better metaphor for human existence

England lifted the Cricket World Cup trophy on July 14 in London despite tying the final against New Zealand. Clive Mason / Getty Images

A few days ago, I found myself back in Mumbai for work reasons. There, as ever, the conversation centred around cricket. What was remarkable, however, was that it wasn't a discussion of the latest match that dominated – rather that of the Cricket World Cup final, which took place earlier this month.

This particular game continues to be discussed because it provides a timely reminder that – for all its obsessions with pernickety rules and tiresome regulations, video referees, super-slow-motion cameras, bails that light up and Ultra Edge microphones – cricket, and sport in general, is under no obligation whatsoever to generate outcomes that are just, fair or even make sense.

In that way, they are much like any other aspect of human life. Sport, the American television mogul Ted Turner once said, is “war without the killing”. For many of us, it is also life without the dying.

And, yet, many cricket fans were livid with the result of that match. Not because England won, either. Australia are perhaps the most widely reviled team in cricket. But at least the Australians support Australia. Compared to other cricketing nations, the England team inspires rather less passion on all sides.

The reason for people’s consternation was that England won the World Cup after tying with New Zealand during the regulation 50 overs – the tie occurring only after the England team were erroneously rewarded an additional run. Then, in the ensuing 'Super Over', both teams tied again, after which England were awarded the trophy for having scored more boundaries than the Kiwis.

Seven fixes for next Cricket World Cup

IMPROVE UMPIRING STANDARDS: For the most part, the umpiring standards at the 2019 World Cup were found wanting - not least in the final on Sunday. An example of it was when the freak fielding deflection off Ben Stokes' bat that raced to the boundary saw England erroneously awarded six runs, instead of five, in the last over. Had England been awarded five runs, New Zealand would have won the match by one run. Reuters

REPLACE BOUNDARIES RULE: The final ended in a tie in regulation time - as did the Super Over. Yet, England were adjudged title winners because - wait for it - they scored more boundaries throughout the game. This has ruffled more than a few feathers, with some pointing out this rule places greater emphasis on big hits rather than rewarding teams that run harder. Two alternatives have been suggested: one is to make the number of wickets to fall in each innings the tie-breaker; the other is to take out the 'extras' from each innings to see which team has more runs with the bat. AP Photo

ALLOW SHARING OF TROPHY: New Zealand coach Gary Stead has batted for the idea of sharing the World Cup. After all, if two teams cannot be separated after 100 overs AND the Super Over, surely they both deserve the trophy just as much. The 2002 Champions Trophy was shared by Sri Lanka captain Sanath Jayasuriya and his India counterpart, Sourav Ganguly. Of course, in this case, the match ended in a no-result due to inclement weather. The ICC should consider such a settlement even after a final ends in a tie. Getty Images

REPLACE NET RUN-RATE WITH HEAD-TO-HEAD: Pakistan finished level with New Zealand on 11 points, and yet it was the latter who qualified for the semi-finals - by virtue of having a better net run-rate. But there are two flaws with this system. Firstly, fans probably scratched their heads before reaching for their calculators to find out what margin Pakistan had to beat Bangladesh by in their last group game in order to qualify. Also, New Zealand batted defensively against England in their final group match to ensure they didn't slip on net run-rate - which made for very boring cricket. So why not, instead, make ‘head-to-head’ the tie-breaker? Getty Images

FINISH RAIN-DELAYED MATCHES: It is shocking to note only Australia, England and Afghanistan got a full result from their nine group games. This indirectly cost Pakistan a place in the semi-finals given it put a dent in their points tally - in theory, of course. For this reason, reserve days should be brought into the group phase. Because the ICC's priority should be fairness even if this poses logistical challenges, such as scheduling and television coverage. Getty Images

RE-EXPAND WORLD CUP: The ICC brought down the number of teams eligible to compete in the 2019 World Cup to 10 - from the 14 that played in the 2015 edition. The number of groups went from two to one as well, presumably to ensure teams such as India, England and Australia play at least nine matches each. This was allegedly to maximise TV revenue. But it came at a cost, which was that lesser known teams - such as the UAE - were denied the stage on which to perform and make progress. The ICC intends to continue with the 10-team, single-group format in 2023, but it must reconsider its decision in order to encourage smaller teams and ensure it goes ahead with its stated vision of spreading the game across the world. Getty Images

DROP ZING BAILS: There have been at least five instances during the 2019 edition when the 'Zing' bails did not get dislodged from the stumps because of the weight of the lights embeded in them which flash when they do get dislodged. Despite pleas from India captain Virat Kohli and Australia skipper Aaron Finch to replace them with the good old wooden bails, organisers refused to budge. There should be a rethink on what is considered a relatively minor issue, but one that can sometime in the future become a major one - during a crucial situation in a critical match. Who cares about the flashing lights anyway? AP Photo

At first glance, this rule makes very little sense. Why should a team lift a prize that represents all-round cricketing excellence over several matches on the basis of having hit the ball harder and longer than another one? Why not on the basis of more wickets? Or more catches?

There are broadly three sets of problems with such thinking.

First, very little about cricket makes sense in any case. A sport in which matches take place on non-standard grounds, on surfaces that behave unpredictably, where the ball is materially affected by the weather and in which the toss of a coin can hugely dictate the end result has already embraced far too much randomness for fans to protest at a little bit more.

Second, sorting out the results of a tied competition is a hugely vexing problem in any sport. At least a Super Over has the potential to involve all the basic disciplines of cricket in reaching a resolution: bowling, fielding, batting, umpiring, confusion. A penalty shootout is so different from regular football as to be a different sport in itself. Suddenly, a team sport is, for reasons of expediency, reduced to the kind of contest you would see at a fairground or a primary school fete. And, yet, the greatest prizes in the game have been claimed in this manner.

Third, and perhaps most importantly, rejecting England’s win is tantamount to rejecting the vagaries of human existence itself. We can make all the rules we want, leverage the best technologies at hand, obsess over regulatory minutiae ad infinitum, and sport will inevitably find a way to confound our best-laid plans.

This is an experience not to be angry about, but to be savoured. Is not the inevitability of irrational outcomes the very essence of existence itself? Even as the unstoppable force of human ignorance continues to slam into the immovable object of political opportunism all over the world, the Cricket World Cup is a humble reminder that, often, things just don’t make sense. And that is perfectly fine.

Besides, if sport did not have a strong streak of resistance to rewarding the truly deserving, how would we ever get a story such as that of Australia’s Steven Bradbury? At the 2002 Winter Olympics, Bradbury qualified for the 1,000-metre short-track speed skating quarter-finals. Only the top two skaters qualified for the semis, and he finished third. But then one was disqualified and Bradbury was sent through to the semis.

With little to no chance of competing with the other, better athletes, Bradbury decided to hang back and let them fight it out. His strategy worked. Speed skating is a sport known for its spectacular human pile-ups, and all the other competitors crashed out. Bradbury duly qualified for the finals. Astonishingly, the same thing happened in that race. Bradbury hung back, the others skaters jostled and crashed out, leaving Bradbury to gently skate in for gold.

Later, he said his tactic had been deliberate. He knew the other skaters would be aggressive and take risks. So, he bided his time and let them take each other out. Some commentators pointed out that, owing to his lack of basic speed, Bradbury was the wrong person to win the event. The gold medal around his neck disagreed. And if that isn’t a life lesson, then what is?

Sidin Vadukut is an Indian author and historian who lives in London