“If transformation is bad when black African players are not doing well, then, when we are doing well, let’s also recognise transformation for what it’s done.” – Temba Bavuma
TELFORD VICE in Cape Town
JAMES Baldwin turned up at South Africa’s press conference at Newlands after Tuesday’s ODI against England. At least, a reasonable facsimile of the writer who had a vocation was speaking truth to power, especially on matters of race, was there to answer questions. His name was Temba Bavuma.
Look at Bavuma from outside South Africa’s reality and you see a batter; a nuggety battler given to digging his team out of trouble, a reputation deserved even though he has scored only one Test century in 67 innings. Often he has taken guard in adverse situations. Rarely has he failed.
From the reality of the other side of the looking glass, we see a lot more than a cricketer. Bavuma is black in a society in which blackness has, until comparatively recently, not been valued by a white establishment that has considered cricket part of its cultural property. It still does, although it admits it less readily.
So when Bavuma was dropped from South Africa’s squad after the first Test against England, which he missed through injury, the racist dog-whistling reached almost audible proportions. Across the vividly real divide, black anger hit a crescendo, some of it irrational. Bleating from the middle were the voices of other South Africans — coloureds and those of south Asian descent — who bemoaned having become not black enough to be accepted as equals after centuries of not being white enough.
Except for the odd, in every sense, social media post, Bavuma kept his own counsel in public — even after he returned to the squad for the fourth Test. That changed on Tuesday, when his batting shimmered with attacking intent. We’re used to seeing Quinton de Kock light up the day/night arena. But Bavuma? He had, before Tuesday, featured in only two of the 138 white-ball games South Africa had played during his more than five years as an international player.
Yet there he was, driving and pulling and ripping his bat at the ball with power and elegance as if he had been to the short-format manner born. He followed a deft cut, dabbed late to third man, off Chris Jordan with a short, sharp on-drive that hurried away to the boundary 180 degrees in the opposite direction. The symmetry was breathtaking.
De Kock scored 107 in his first match as the appointed ODI captain, Bavuma made 98, they shared 170, and South Africa had time to stop and smell the roses on their waltz to victory — only their second in five matches on England’s tour.
And then there Bavuma was again, his big eyes looking down the barrels of the press guns that had, some felt, unfairly taken aim at him in the preceding weeks. Ask the press and they will say they reported fairly and accurately reflected the mood.
“It has been hard,” Bavuma said. “It’s not so much the dropping part. All players get dropped. Everyone goes through slumps of not scoring well. But the awkwardness and uncomfortability from my side is when you are thrown into talks of transformation.
“Yes, I am black. That’s my skin. But I play cricket because I love it. I’d like to think the reason I am in the team is because of performances I have put forward in my franchise side, and also for the national team, whenever I have been able to. The discomfort was there, having to navigate around all those types of talks. Players get dropped. I am not the last guy to get dropped. That’s something we’ve come to accept.
“The thing that irks me is when you are seen through the eyes of transformation. When you do well transformation is not spoken about. But when you do badly transformation is thrown to the top of the agenda. I have a serious problem with that. We’ve got to be able to take the good with the bad. If transformation is bad when black African players are not doing well, then, when we are doing well, let’s also recognise transformation for what it’s done.”
Transformation exists to ensure that black players of all stripes are not denied their opportunities. Without it, South Africa’s teams would surely be what they should not be: largely white. And weaker because they would not be tapping into more of the available talent. Tuesday is far from the only occasion that has been proven.
Perhaps it’s a blessing that someone as thoughtful as Bavuma is trapped in the middle of all that. Others would not be as receptive to and respectful of the prevailing nuances. “A lot has happened, for the good and for the bad,” he said. “The time away from the team has given me time to reflect and realign with my goals and to find the strength and courage to keep chugging along. And keep enjoying the game.
“It was just good to be on the field, running around with the guys. I felt like I was a kid with no burden out there.”
But burdens he has, not least to keep convincing decision-makers that he deserves a place in South Africa’s white-ball teams, especially with a T20 World Cup looming in October and November. “There’s a lot of players out there who fall into that category and are seen as one-format type of players,” Bavuma said. “I never internalised the narrative that I was just a red-ball player.”
In the wider sense, Bavuma was on another burning deck when he walked out to bat at the end of the seventh over with South Africa 25/1 chasing 259 — more than had ever been scored to win a day/night ODI at Newlands. The bigger flames were all around in the shape of South Africa’s increasingly poor form in the Test series. Beyond that, Cricket South Africa itself is ablaze with problems.
In “The Fire Next Time”, his 1963 book on race and religion, James Baldwin asked: “Do I really want to be integrated into a burning house?”
Bavuma has answered that question for himself: “That’s how my career is panning out. I guess maybe I find motivation when the team is in situations like that. My thing is to contribute to the team’s good cause. When the team is in trouble, there is a big motivation, an opportunity to want to stand up.”
Both Baldwin and Bavuma are famously short men. And both are all about standing up. Tall.
First published by Cricbuzz.
Bulletproof Truth 