Richard Boock: Pizza theory strikes blow for food freedom

COMMENT

That's done it, then. Just when the dieticians seemed to be gaining a foothold in the world of sport, along came South African cricketer Herschelle Gibbs with his peculiar theory on pizza.

Having endured one of the leanest trots since Gandhi, the happy-go-lucky opening batsman exploded out of his form slump yesterday, stroking 101 against the West Indies at the Champions Trophy tournament in England.

It was Gibbs' first ODI century for 17 months, his first since that ultimately fruitless effort against New Zealand at last year's World Cup, and (for the anorak devotees) his first in 34 outings with the bat.

But whether it was quite enough was not to be decided until early today, when the two sides were scheduled to conclude their contest after an untimely cloudburst early yesterday morning.

For Gibbs, though, the proof wasn't as much in the pudding as in the pizza (topping unknown).

The man who smashed 183 against the English in his previous test innings at the Oval explained afterwards that the turnaround in form could be attributed to a long-overdue pizza consumed the night before the game.

The story could be traced back to his previous tour of Sri Lanka, where quality pizzas were evidently thin on the ground, and where he'd missed his favourite dish to the extent that his batting had fallen apart.

How else could it be explained, he demanded? No pizza, no runs; then pizza - and a century.

Gibbs even told assembled media afterwards that he believed the Italian job had helped him to sleep better as well as assisting his balance at the batting crease: "It would get me a bit firmer on my feet."

The theory might have sporting nutritionists pulling out their hair, but should at least find favour with former England cricket captain Mike Gatting, who was mercilessly lampooned for his appetite through a 12-year international career.

It was Gatting, after all, who was defeated by Shane Warne's "ball of the century" at Manchester in 1993, drawing forth the comment from team-mate Graham Gooch that, had the ball been a cheese roll, "it would never have got past him".

Ian Botham said later that he hadn't seen the same wide-eyed look of horror on Gatting's face since someone stole his lunch-box a couple of years before. And English writer Martin Johnson wrote that it was as treasured piece of archive film as anything involving bodyline or Bradman ... "how anyone could spin the ball the width of Gatting boggles the mind ... "

What athletes have eaten before major contests sometimes offers a fascinating insight into the sporting mind, and Gibbs' fondness for pizza probably rates at the lower end of the idiosyncratic spectrum.

All Black Colin Meads apparently ate anything he could put tomato sauce on (and was scolded in his later years by a new-fangled nutritionist, who asked him to imagine how good he might have been, had he employed a halfway decent diet).

Former New Zealand cricket captain Glenn Turner was at the other end of the scale, to the extent that underfed "scarfie" team-mates at Otago would often vie for the privilege of sitting beside at him at meal time, so they could benefit from his gastronomical fussiness.

And Graham Thorne, who played 40 matches for the All Blacks, was a self-confessed "spewer" before every game, for a long time existing on a pre-match diet of a slice of cheese and a glass of milk.

It wasn't just that the high-dairy diet was easy on his sensitive stomach, it was also because he once ate the combination before scoring a brace of tries in west Wales, and believed he might have stumbled on to some sort of natural stimulant.

The onset of professionalism probably signalled a reduction in the amount of dietary excesses, as sporting teams across the codes explored the potential of optimum nutrition, and peak physical condition.

Back then it was popularly believed that the main reason the North Harbour rugby union employed a nutritionist - one of the first provinces to take the plunge - was to prevent No 8 Richard Turner from indulging in late-night feasts.

It seemed those days might have disappeared for good until Gibbs went public at the weekend with his weakness for pizza, striking a blow for not only his generation, but also those from more distant decades.

Not that Pinetree Meads would have ever eaten pizza. Too similar to quiche.

High Point

Bay of Plenty's hair-raising NPC win over Wellington at Mt Maunganui on Saturday, the second time the Bay have prevailed over the Lions in 92 years of competition. A semifinal seems within touching distance.

Low Point

The continual NPC decline of Otago, who were crushed in their own house of pain at the weekend and slumped to third last place on the competition ladder. For a team from a Super 12 base, they look in awful shape.