It’s time to find a way forward.
After the events of this week, and the hurt that has clearly been felt from everyone involved, I say it again: we must find a way forward.
There is no value in continuing down a path that can only bring further hurt.
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Nobody benefits from that, and certainly nobody benefits from allowing events of the past to define what comes next.
When I walked into the coaching job in 2018, the message from the top was blunt. We don’t care if you win or lose, we need to earn back the respect of the Australian public.
We came up with three simple words we spoke to almost every day — ‘Make Australians Proud’.
Simply put, if our players — through their actions on and off the field — made their families and friends proud, we were on the right path.
This week, hand on heart, that is not happening.
Australians watching the claims and counterclaims flying back and forth are not proud. They are exhausted. They love this team, but right now they are doubting it, and that should worry everyone who pulls on the Australian cap or has a stake in the future of the game.
That is how long it has been since a piece of yellow sandpaper in Cape Town changed Australian cricket forever. Eight years of inquiries, bans, resignations, rumours, opinions, innuendos, tears and torment.
This week with the release of Usman Khawaja’s autobiography Sabr, my phone has run hot.
I have spoken to so many people. Everyone wants a view, or has a view, on what the truth is. Everyone from the shopping centre to the golf course, to the local café, to the doctor’s surgery, to the WA Hall of Champions dinner in Perth on Tuesday night is searching for a villain, a verdict. Everyone wants the truth.
7.30 host Sarah Ferguson speaks to former Australian Test cricketer Usman Khawaja. Credit: Unknown/ABC/730
But now, after eight years — this last week included — my conclusion is there are no winners in any of this. There never has been.
Everyone has their own version of the truth and the only loser, eight years on, is Australian cricket, and there must come a time when this all stops.
I believe that time is now.
Usman has every right to write his book, and I respect that.
He is retired now, and telling your story in an autobiography is what a lot of retired sportspeople, politicians and business-people do.
If there is an interesting story to tell, then publishers will encourage them to tell it. Usman has an interesting story to tell.
Books are almost always released after retirement, timed for Father’s Day or Christmas. And the truth is there is not a lot of money in most of them. So I don’t buy the cynical line that this is a cash grab or simply a stunt to sell books.
I know Usman well. I wrote in The West two years ago that he is “as calm and uncompromising a cricketer as this country has produced for a long time”, and that “his elegance would be missed when he finally pulled up stumps”.
Nothing this week changes that opinion.
I would also add that he is strong in his views and principles and stands up for what he believes in.
When the documentary The Test was released post Sandpapergate, it was often Usman’s strong opinions that were used to promote the show. These snippets were often used to suggest he and I didn’t see eye to eye.
Those insinuations couldn’t be further from the truth.
I loved the fact that if he had something to say, he would be upfront, honest, and tell it straight to my face. Who can begrudge a person who stands for something and is willing to tell you straight? The public perception was far away from reality.
In his book, Usman talks about calling me following the personal media release our fast bowlers put out in 2021 where they stated they “did not know a foreign substance was taken onto the field to alter the condition of the ball until we saw the images on the big screen at Newlands.”
Pat Cummins speaks to the media during a press conference at Cricket Central on November 13, 2026 in Sydney, Australia. Credit: Darrian Traynor/Getty Images
Usman, who at the time was not in the team, was frustrated about the contents of the press release and felt it wasn’t necessarily a true indication of events.
On Sunday in an Instagram post, he reflected on that time saying he “didn’t want to go to war with those guys back then”.
I understood his frustration then, and reading his words this week, I understand it still. Clearly this has sat uncomfortably with him since 2018, and he chose to write about it. That is his right and his choice.
But here is the thing about the truth.
Having lived most of my adult life in Australian cricket dressing rooms, I have learned that everyone has their own version of it.
Where you sat, what you heard, what you remember, who said this, who said what, who did that. This is no different to an office, a family, or any team — all of which are comprised of different personalities; some who clash, others that gel.
And all who have their own interests, thoughts and perspectives.
Memory is shaped by all these factors. That doesn’t make anyone a liar, a hero or a villain, it makes them human.
Even in the great teams I have been involved with, not everyone was best mates, and often it was the contrast in styles and characters that made the environment interesting and effective.
That said, the best changing rooms always had a sense of brotherhood and respect when you were representing the cap you were selected to wear.
It must also be remembered that life in the Australian cricket team also moves fast.
After that 2021 media release from the bowlers and Usi’s phone call, our next tours were to the West Indies and Bangladesh in the middle of COVID.
Bubbles, quarantine, empty hotels were a tense time for everyone. Then came a back-to-back T20 World Cup and the 2021/22 Ashes series. The last thing on our minds was what had happened years before. Our focus was solely on what was coming up, not what was behind us.
Steven Smith (capt) and Cameron Bancroft (L) of Australia during day 3 of the 3rd Sunfoil Test match between South Africa and Australia at PPC Newlands on March 24, 2018. Credit: Gallo Images/Getty Images
As fate would have it, Usman fought his way back into the team during that 2021/22 Ashes series and made twin hundreds in Sydney in one of the great comeback stories.
Aussies loved him for his authenticity, style and the little jig he did on securing his hundreds, and the team was flying high having won the Ashes 4-0, and the T20 World Cup for the first time. The mission had been accomplished.
Two Test matches later I was no longer the coach, and the team was moving on to the next challenge. The game moves on.
One of the lessons I have learned is that nothing stands still long enough in this game for old wounds to be properly mended.
Perhaps that is part of the problem with Sandpapergate.
Make no mistake, people suffered and are still suffering. Heads rolled everywhere you looked. Within a short period of Cape Town, Australian cricket’s chairman, chief executive, high-performance manager, head coach, captain and vice-captain had all left the building in one way or another.
Captain Steve Smith, David Warner and Cameron Bancroft served their bans and carry scars they will wear forever.
Writing in The West a few weeks ago, I stand by my claim that “in many ways they took the fall not just for Australia, but for cricketers all around the world”. Their families suffered and everyone connected to that period has paid, in one currency or another.
And now, after eight years of paying the price, the debt must be settled because this week has proven there is little to be gained from scratching a scar with a sledgehammer.
Mitch Marsh faced the music in Perth on Thursday as the captain of the Australian white ball team. Pat Cummins then fronted up yesterday morning. Nobody should envy either of them. But they are also the only two people who can smooth out the course forward. That is the responsibility of leadership.
Knowing Mitch since he was born, he would have been have preferred a bout of salmonella poisoning on Wednesday night to save him from letting down any of his mates by saying the wrong thing to the press.
This is the bloke who stood up at the Allan Border Medal, through tears, and told the room he’s “a bit fat at times” and “loves a beer”. Australians, and his friends, adore him for exactly that honesty.
So, when he said he didn’t want to share his version of events from eight years ago because it was time to move forward and concentrate on leading his young team against England on Friday, I got it.
His job now is getting on with taking a young team into the future by leading with the honesty, humour and humility that has always drawn Australians to their cricketers.
Pat, as the Australian Test captain, then spoke yesterday morning for more than an hour. He stood tall and challenged any journalist with a curly question, bouncer, full-toss, googly or beamer to come at him with whatever they wanted to ask — no matter how personal or polarising.
Usman Khawaja of Australia and coach Justin Langer during day four of the Fourth Test Match in the Ashes series at Sydney Cricket Ground on January 08, 2022. Credit: Cameron Spencer/Getty Images
His passionate response to Usman’s version of the truth was explicit and strong. There was no room for doubt in his mind. He stood up like a leader should.
And now that the band-aid has been pulled off, people will still have their own views. That’s life.
But at least now, some type of line has been drawn.
Australian cricket has been a part of my life, in one way or another, since I was old enough to understand the game. For better or for worse the Australian cricket team has been like a family to me.
Like every family, we have our disagreements. We see the same events through different eyes and carry different versions of the truth, sometimes for years, sometimes forever.
Some of you reading this will have lived experiences with dysfunctional families, other with families who have mended through the toughest of experiences.
Usman has now told his story. Pat has responded. Plenty have had their say.
Every single person who was on that infamous tour to South Africa will have their own story that they will carry forever.
Eight years is enough. It’s time to find closure and make Australians proud of their team again.
