The curious case of Sulky Sulieman Print E-mail
Category: Features
Written by Luke Tagg   
Tuesday, 01 June 2010 23:25
You've probably read about the bizarre situation that occurred in the fourth ODI between the West Indies and South Africa in Dominica last Sunday, when Chris Gayle not only pulled Sulieman Benn from the attack but sent him packing from the field entirely.

I have never, ever seen or heard about a captain dismissing a player from a game - I didn't even know it was possible under the laws of cricket.

In case you missed it: Gayle asked Benn to bowl over the wicket instead of around it and was told in no uncertain terms by the bowler that it wasn't possible. Benn actually refused to bowl over the wicket - again, the first time I've ever seen anything like it.

Gayle promptly dismissed him and later said: "He (Benn) wasn't up for it and if you're not up for it, why give that particular bowler the ball? I just see it that he doesn't want to take part. It was my call to actually ask him to leave and tell him that he is not needed anymore."

Cricket purists must be turning in their graves. If they're dead, of course. And assuming they weren't cremated.

It's not the first time Benn has been in trouble - I actually listed him at No. 8 on my list of 10 cricketers you wouldn't let near your daughter, largely because of his grumpy attitude.

He was banned for two ODIs following the Perth Test in December, after a clash with Mitchell Johnson and Brad Haddin. He totally lost it and had to be separated from Johnson by the umpire.

There are various other reports of misconduct from him, which brings me to my burning question: what the sweet, sweaty, bleeding Harry has Sulieman Benn got to be miserable about?

Firstly, he's the tallest man in the room. Any room. That gives him instant status and makes it unlikely he'll face harassment from drunken idiots looking to smack someone.

Secondly, he plays professional cricket for a living. I'm sure it isn't all wine, roses and pedalos but it sure beats the hell out of being the guy who tars roads in the middle of the Karoo in the heat of midsummer, 100 kilometres from nowhere.

And bonus, he gets to do it predominantly in the Caribbean. Not Afghanistan, North Korea, Iran or Alaska - the Caribbean. Where the sun shines, the drums beat out the rythm of the islands and breakfast consists of croissants, coffee and ganja.

I don't get it, really. The guy is more sour than zoute drop yet appears to have everything going for him.

Chill, Sulieman. Relax, mon. Life's too short.
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