David Leggat: Extraordinary silliness marks ordinary tour

Every so often, you hear something which is just plain daft.

So those people you saw walking round slack-jawed and bug-eyed this week were cricket fans who'd heard that while one New Zealand cricketer was fined 25 per cent of his match fee for swearing at an umpire, a South African opponent copped a 75 per cent deduction for forgetting to appeal properly to an umpire after getting a wicket.

There are some things in life which are inexplicable. Some of them are happening in cricket.

This instance came in a testy final one-dayer at Centurion, just outside Pretoria, on Monday. First up Scott Styris didn't agree with the umpire's decision to give him out caught behind, and said so.

At another point in the New Zealand innings, medium pacer Charl Langeveldt had Hamish Marshall caught at the wicket. He forgot to appeal in the standard fashion. That cost him 75 per cent of his match fee.

Throw in South Africa's new coach, Mickey Arthur, giving over 25 per cent of his fee for confronting an umpire and swearing at him.

Kyle Mills escaped a dissent citing after a decision was turned down despite handing out a prolonged serve to South African captain Graeme Smith; and captain Stephen Fleming also missed out on the fun despite a bout of silliness, acting the goat after claiming a catch at slip.

It all adds up to a sorry mess, but perhaps a fitting end to an ordinary tour by the Black Caps.

The disparity between the Styris and Langeveldt decisions is staggering. It's a case of priorities becoming completely skewed. It was Langeveldt's second offence in the last year, hence his fine.

Even so, it's a nonsense, but fitting it was handed out by a man with a dreadful disciplinary record during his England career.

In a classic case of poacher turned gamekeeper, Chris Broad was the judge at Centurion. This is the same Chris Broad who, in 1987 at Lahore, refused to leave his crease after being given out caught behind.

It took a couple of minutes before he was persuaded by his opening partner, Graham Gooch, that it'd be best if he headed for the pavilion.

This is the same Chris Broad who, after hitting a century against Australia at Sydney in the Bi-Centenary test in January 1988, was bowled by Steve Waugh, whereupon he turned and smashed his stumps in best axeman style with his bat.

Yes, it seems he's an ideal choice to be dispensing wonky justice.

The tour seemed bedevilled by problems, with talk of a John Bracewell-Fleming, or Bracewell-senior players rift; the spectre of Chris Cairns hanging over the tour; the unusual sound of a relatively experienced player, Styris, sounding off at the selectors' non-selection of Cairns; and some plain bad cricket by New Zealand.

Certainly, they have a case in arguing they could have won at least two of the matches, rather than lost four with the other rained off. Then again, good sides don't squander winning chances.

As for rifts, they're nothing new. Strong personalities having differences of opinion are part of life, let alone sport. Players get over it, and if they don't they tend not to be around much longer.

Bracewell is a man of firm convictions, even if he has mellowed from his playing days.

But suggestions Bracewell and his captain weren't talking at one point in the tour don't stack up. One thing his friends and enemies would agree: Bracewell is incapable of silence. Fleming is long established and secure in his job, regarded as being among the best skippers in the game.

I'll bet they have forthright discussions and that's the way it should be, as long as they're both mature and accept neither will be 100 per cent right all the time.

By the way, anyone else fancy being a fly on the wall when the national selection panel of Bracewell, Sir Richard Hadlee, Glenn Turner and Dion Nash get together. Australia arrive in just over a fortnight. Time to bang heads together and get things sorted out sharpish.