The techniques of David Warner and Martin Guptill shared one startling similarity in the recently completed ODI series between the two old foes: they both strike the ball with immense force that is only rivaled by the world’s finest. Of course, to this day, one has gone on to establish himself as a respected, level-headed and widely lauded test batsman while the other has always been a thereabouts test cricketer and an indelible flame with a penchant for delivering whirlwind performances in the shorter formats. The latter settles into his innings by playing with a textbook straight bat to deliveries pitched on a good length. His large stride ensures he makes contact with the ball under his eyes allowing him to time the ball and pierce the gaps with surgeon-like precision. He is a picture of balance and concentration, both in his stance and when executing a shot, that should serve as an unblemished template for the younger cricketers who are looking to replicate a flawless technique. You read this and expect Guptill to be the ideal test match opener for New Zealand and a giant of the modern game, but he averages a miserly 29.38 in more games than you can poke a stick at and has recently been dethroned by a younger, more conservative batsman who has shown plenty of signs in the early stages of his career that he won’t be giving up his position without a say.
David Warner was once the gung-ho merchant who wouldn’t make the grade as a test match batsman due to his reckless temperament and flawed defence. Since then, he has gone on to become one of Australia’s finest test openers and has held his position at the head of the Australian batting order for five years. Every adversity and roadblock that has been thrown in his direction to put the brakes on a steadily growing career – from the infamous bar punch thrown at England’s Joe Root to homework gate on the Indian tour of 2013 – has allowed him to blossom into the 57 match test player that we see today making hundred after hundred with a technique pulled from the heavens. Despite popular belief, his defence is paramount to his game and is what keeps that average of 48.08 continuing in an upward trend. His expansive stroke play, which earns him all the plaudits, is there to compliment his resolute defence and push along the rate when the game situation requires it. He has acquired the perfect balance between aggression and conservatism which has laid the foundation for his transition to test cricket and his subsequent success.
Warner and Guptill, while differing in terms of personal idiosyncrasies that set their techniques apart, both posses the unique ability to hit the ball like a tracer bullet to the boundary with scant regard for where it may have pitched. One has been able to convert the form they found in the white ball formats as a fresh faced Big Bash sensation into sustained success at test level, while the other has barely been able to keep their head above water. Sure, Guptill has played most of his test match career on green seaming wickets at the Basin Reserve and Seddon Park – two venues that aren’t regularly associated with the word’s ‘batsmen’s paradise’ – but excuses needn’t be made when you see the damage he can inflict on an opposition with the coloured clothing on his back. Remember the 2015 World Cup, that score of 237 at the Cake Tin and the brutal manner in which he went about dispatching the Windies to all parts of the ground (and out of it) with an apparent disregard for losing his wicket? The cleanness with which he hit those boundaries was the coup de grace that ended the West Indies campaign and was very much on show in every innings he played during the Chappel Hadlee series. But, like a werewolf at midnight, the sight of the red ball transforms Guptill into a form that is almost unidentifiable against the standards he sets in one-day and t20 cricket.
The idea that slips into one’s mind when they witness the differences between the Guptill playing the shorter form and the less popular Martin who plays test cricket, is that he seeks to conform to the mindset held by traditional opening batsmen. Bat the entire first session, edge a couple that evade the slips but garner a boundary, and get through the new ball to give your middle order batsmen the greatest opportunity to mount a significant total. The cliches go on, but this is simply not the criteria New Zealand cricket should use to assess Guptill, and it is certainly not the ideas he should be fed as gospel if they wish to get the most out of his boundary hitting ability. When Warner came to the conclusion that his role within the side was to play his strokes from the outset, without fear for the outcomes this may produce and the judgement he may receive from time to time, there were marked improvements in his game. Untill New Zealand adopt a similar mantra for Martin Guptill, he will remain an underutalised quantity who has little impact on the game. He must be given a license to play with the freedom Australia afforded David Warner after they realised the traditional ‘knicker and nudger’ role, exemplified best by messrs Rogers and Cook, wasn’t suited to his enigmatic style of play. New Zealand has an experienced middle order that can cope with the loss of an early wicket and are capable of building an innings around the more conservative and pure stroke makers like Kane Williamson and Ross Taylor. It’s a risk they must take if they are to utalise the unteachable talent they have at their disposal in the form of Marin Guptill. He’s a game-breaker worth far more to a national team than any highfalutin IPL contract might hope to put a price on.