Quotes of the Day

There were few things ricky ponting enjoyed more as a boy than hanging about in the dressing room of his dad's cricket team. Listening to their chat was a way to learn about batting, he once told me on a drive through his home city of Launceston. Just sorting through their gear was exciting: he loved the tools of the game, couldn't get enough of brands and bat weights and different grips. It was the boy's good luck that his talent for cricket matched his love of it. Though the call-up came later, he was probably ready for the big time at 16. After a stumble or two, he became a fine Test player and, on Steve Waugh's retirement in 2004, his country's 41st captain.

With Australia having begun what looms as a tense tour of South Africa, it's timely to remember an innocent Ponting's fascination with cricket - and to hope that he remembers it too. On results, it would be silly to claim that he's failed as skipper. Except when they lost the Ashes five months ago, Australia under Ponting have trampled everyone in their path. He has played numerous sublime captain's knocks, and clearly has the respect, loyalty and affection of his players. But on another level, Australian cricket has suffered under a leader whose goals seem too narrow. Defeat in England stung him; the response hasn't always been edifying.

Those who see sport as the pursuit of victory at any cost won't be bothered by some of the habits that have crept into Ponting's teams. Sport soars, however, when the participants show qualities incidental to the goal of winning - like respect for opponents and fans. The exuberance with which Australian batsmen are celebrating on reaching their centuries has become absurd. Much fuss was made over Michael Slater's reaction to making a hundred at Lord's in 1993. But that display, which included kissing the Australian crest on his helmet, was subdued compared to the fits of self-congratulation in which players, including Ponting, now routinely engage.

For Bradman, the Chappells and other past players, reaching the ton was surely no less satisfying. Yet they managed to confine their celebrations to removing their cap and acknowledging, with a raising of their bat, the applause of the crowd. Today's leaping, fist-pumping performances - unleashed no matter what the state of play - are merely self-indulgent. When they follow upon the defeat of an opponent, they smack of triumphalism. The century-maker directs his attention first and foremost at his teammates. During this exchange of joy and gratitude, there might as well be no one else at the ground.

Ponting might advise his players that the public matters, that there would be no lucrative contracts without it. Always an exclusive club, Australian cricket under him seems more insular than ever. One day, hopefully, Australians will tire of denigrating English sporting teams; their mocking of English cricketers since 1989 has been especially merciless. It was thus bewildering that at an awards ceremony in Melbourne last month, Ponting took offence at former England spinner Phil Tufnell's taped send-up of Australia's Ashes campaign. Ponting said he wouldn't have minded so much had Tufnell "ever really done anything against Australia." As well as being misleading (Tufnell bowled England to victory at The Oval in 1997 with 11 wickets), the remark betrayed a troubling élitism: only the greatest cricketers, Ponting implied, had the right to poke fun at his men.

Ponting's Australia can admit to being outplayed, but never to being outclassed. When they were losing in England, opening batsman Justin Langer said: "If we execute our skills well, we will beat anyone in the world. That's not being arrogant, that's just a fact." No, that was arrogant - England had a better pace attack, pure and simple. Even the Australian nice guys have publicly disputed umpires' decisions this past year, and bristled at suggestions that poor form might have put their places in jeopardy. Ponting can't be held responsible for everything his teammates say and do. But he could try to foster a more generous attitude to those outside the sanctum. He could, for example, have done more to dissociate his players from local crowds' relentless heckling of Sri Lankan spinner Muttiah Muralitharan. Perhaps Ponting could have pleaded with the mob to stop, directly or through the press: what better way to use the power of captaincy for the greater good?

In the same spirit, he could oppose a plan to scrap the tradition of players walking between the Sydney Cricket Ground's members as they enter and depart the arena. And he could step in and declare "Enough!" when his speedster Brett Lee bowls unsporting bumper after bumper at tail enders. Competitive and artless, Ponting is doing his best to ensure Australia keeps winning. That's the job as he sees it, and he's doing it well. Reflecting on his early days, however, might remind him that there's more to sport than that. If he then began to grasp the possibilities of his office, he might become something more than a success. He could be, for decades to come, an inspiration.

• Daniel Williams
• In his drive for victory, Australia's captain risks making his team harder to like