When it comes to sledging, Indian cricket does tend to regard itself as primarily the victim, rather than the aggressor, particularly when playing against Australia. That was certainly the case for much of cricket's history. While matches between India and Pakistan could often degenerate into abuse, outside of that particular confrontation, Indian cricketers were not known for their sledging, while Australia were widely regarded as the leading practitioners of the 'art'.
That has changed in recent years, and the new generation of Indian cricketer is just as willing as their international counterparts to dish it out, most notably the Indian captain, Virat Kohli, who can sledge as well as any Aussie fast bowler.
In fact, sledging is an inexact term that is used to cover a range of verbal behaviour on the field, from inane chatter designed to put off an opponent to direct and intense verbal abuse.
Often included in the category of sledging are the jokes or off-the-cuff remarks that may be designed to get under the opponent's skin, but often appear to be nothing more than a means of enlivening a long day in the field, when you might otherwise wish you were playing some slots games online. Cricket would be poorer without these episodes, and no-one would suggest that players should be made to take a vow of silence on the field. But anthology-worthy one-liners form a tiny fraction of the verbal exchanges that take place on the cricket field today.
While Australian cricket is hardly the only offender when it comes to sledging, it was an Australian captain who institutionalized the practice. Under the 'mental disintegration' strategy introduced by Steve Waugh, onfield verbal attacks became a pre-planned, orchestrated tactic, part of the gameplan for defeating an opponent rather than isolated, spontaneous outbursts.
The development of this 'organised' sledging has coincided with increasing levels of professionalism and money in the game, which in turn has upped the pressure on players. Test cricket, more than ever, is a serious business, and the stakes in international games have never been higher, with million-dollar central contracts and sponsorship deals on offer for those who succeed.
When asked about sledging, most modern cricketers will tell you that it isn't a problem, that it's always been part of the game, and that it is often exaggerated by outsiders.
But more revealingly, modern cricketers almost to a man will say that they would prefer on-field microphones to be switched off during play. This seems strange. After all, if sledging is not a problem, then why be coy about letting the viewing audience hear?
This suggests that, despite what they may say, cricketers know that sledging is wrong on some level, and they are sufficiently embarrassed about it that they would prefer it if none of us could hear them.
But in a sport that is now scrutinised more heavily than ever, with replays, stump microphones and social media capturing every tiny detail of play, the days when a player could say 'what happens on the field stays on the field' are over. Incidents of verbal abuse, as we saw in 2008, tend to fester, and lead to further confrontations over the course of a long series. Sledging also has the potential to distort the game for future generations. When a coach defends his player's verbal abuse on the grounds that it shows his passion or aggression a clear message is sent to younger players: if you want to be seen as fully committed to the cause, you have to verbally abuse your opponent.
The solution is not to turn off the stump microphones, or to leave it to the players to manage the issue. Umpires already have the authority to enforce the ICC Code of Conduct. It is time that they stepped up to the task and warned players that while the occasional outburst or witty remark will be tolerated, verbal abuse and a stream of inane chatter will not. Sledging may not be at the top of cricket's agenda right now, but it has the potential to lead to serious onfield incidents and to undermine the image of a global sport.
