Tapu Misa: Can you dance and play cricket at the same time?

I don't have the temperament for cricket. I've never played the game, but I know this because of the great difficulty I have in mustering enough concentration even to watch a test match. I've tried, God knows, but it's clearly beyond me.

Until now I'd blamed my lack of sustained concentration on the game itself. I mean, really, what other sport is so action-packed that the players have time to sign autographs while the game is in progress?

And what other sport can drag on for nearly a week without a clear victor emerging, even though one side has scored more runs than the opposition?

But according to some, this inability to be at one with test cricket is a cultural trait. Of course. That's why there are so few brown faces in New Zealand cricket.

It must be the temperament thing. We just don't have the patience or temperament to concentrate for a whole day, let alone a whole cricket match.

I'm not sure how Martin Crowe came by his observation given the minuscule number of Maori cricketers.

The national side isn't overly endowed with Pacific Island players either, and it has been said that the reason is our preference for our own more exciting version of the game.

We've been playing cricket in the Pacific since the good folk from the London Missionary Society introduced us to the English game in the 19th century, hoping that it would have a civilising effect and distract us from our warlike ways.

Perhaps it's truer to say that my forebears had an uncivilising effect on cricket.

When it arrived in the form of white flannels, dainty cucumber sandwiches (cucumbers were grown just for this purpose) and enforced tea-breaks in the 30C heat, they naturally took to the game. Which is to say they took the game apart.

What emerged was cricket, but not as the MCC knew it. Out went the willow bats and in came a hefty, three-sided club of manly proportions that more closely resembled a war club. Balls were fashioned out of fresh rubber, and were often hit into the lagoon.

And as for the rules, well, that little injunction about the fielding side not being allowed to "incommode" the batsman by way of any distracting noise or action was the first to be bowled.

In its place came unseemly and noisy singing and dancing and cheeky taunting of the opposing side.

Kilikiti, as it was known, became the new obsession, particularly in Samoa, where matches between some villages and islands were said to last a good many weeks - leading to the total neglect of plantations and other work and eventually forcing elders to ban the sport.

In vain, as it turned out. The game spread, even to tiny atolls barely wide enough for a cricket pitch. It thrives here, too, where international tournaments have been held since 1988.

Of course, we're not the only ones who have tinkered with the traditional game. Purists might decry the one-day game but there's no denying its appeal.

Besides, kilikiti is not all that far removed from the revved-up Max cricket that Crowe was instrumental in introducing to New Zealand.

So perhaps we're not the only ones who like speed and excitement in our sport and maybe that has very little to do with the dearth of brown faces in cricket.

Writing in the Weekend Herald, Richard Boock put it down to "apathetic and sometimes bigoted local associations, costs, the strangeness of the game and an understandable dislike of English colonialism combined to repel almost anyone with brown skin".

He was talking about cricket but he could as easily have been talking about other codes.

Despite the pool of untapped talent in our communities, brown kids aren't often seen outside rugby union, league and netball. This doesn't seem to worry sports administrators much, but let the situation be even slightly reversed and we hear no end of lamenting on the subject.

Crowe has apologised for his comments, but the rush of support for his view shows there are an alarming number among us who blame low representation in some sports - as indeed in most endeavours - on racial shortcomings rather than opportunity, money and inclination.

Much the same thing was said about the mental ability of blacks to excel in sports before they were allowed into American gymnasiums and sportsfields.

There aren't any Palagis playing top-level kilikiti in this country, either, but no one is suggesting it's because they lack the ability to dance and play cricket at the same time, which is a basic requirement of any kilikiti player.

But still these views persist. White boys can't siva. Or jump. And brown kids have flair and athleticism, but apparently no character, tactical ability or discipline.

Apparently, they also prefer team sports to singular pursuits requiring mental toughness. Someone should tell Philip Tataurangi and Michael Campbell that they're in the wrong game.

Yes, many of us like the physicality of rugby union and league, but we're every bit as obsessed and skilled with golf and tennis. Some of us even like traditional English cricket, despite its idiosyncrasies.

It's 2003, after all. High time that we retired those tired old moulds.