After losing ODIs, South Africa coach Shukri Conrad accepts mistake for saying ‘want to make India grovel’

By_shalini oraon

From Grovelling to Grace: Shukri Conrad’s Mea Culpa and the Shifting Sands of Cricket’s Rivalry

The phrase hung in the air, a stark, gritty anachronism in the modern cricket lexicon: “We want to make them grovel.” When South Africa’s Test coach, Shukri Conrad, uttered those words ahead of the recent all-format tour by India, it sent a seismic shockwave through the sport. Borrowed from Tony Greig’s infamous and racially charged 1976 pre-series remark about the West Indies, the word “grovelling” carries a historical baggage of humiliation, subjugation, and a particularly colonial brand of cricketing arrogance. For Conrad to deploy it against India, a nation supremely confident and a financial behemoth of the game, was either a breathtaking piece of psychological warfare or a profound tactical misstep.

The subsequent ODI series provided a brutal, unambiguous verdict. India, far from being made to grovel, dismantled a second-string South African side with clinical efficiency, winning the series 2-1. The Proteas’ batting line-up, in particular, appeared brittle and bewildered. In the aftermath of this defeat, Conrad did something increasingly rare in the high-stakes, ego-driven world of international sport: he publicly accepted his mistake. “In hindsight, I would take those words back,” he stated, acknowledging that the comment had “backfired” and became a distraction. This moment of introspection is more significant than a simple admission of error; it is a microcosm of cricket’s evolving power dynamics, the perils of outdated mind games, and the new etiquette required in the sport’s global conversation.

The Ghost of Greig and the Weight of Words

To understand the magnitude of Conrad’s gaffe, one must revisit its origin. In 1976, England captain Tony Greig, a South Africa-born cricketer, told the press that his team aimed to make the West Indies “grovel.” For a touring side from the Caribbean, comprised of players from nations that had endured the brutalities of colonialism and slavery, the word was not just a sporting challenge; it was a deep, historical insult. It evoked imagery of masters and servants. The West Indies, led by Clive Lloyd and fuelled by a ferocious pace battery, used that comment as rocket fuel, thrashing England 3-0. Greig’s remark became a symbol of misguided arrogance, forever etched in cricket’s history as a lesson in cultural tone-deafness.

By channelling Greig, Conrad accidentally summoned this ghost. He aimed to project a image of a tough, uncompromising South African side ready to dominate. Instead, he inadvertently framed the contest in a context of historical mastery and submission—a framework that feels jarring and offensive in 21st-century sport, especially against an Indian team that is the undisputed commercial and sporting superpower. It ignored the fact that modern India doesn’t just play cricket; they fundamentally underwrite the global game. Making them “grovel” is not a psychological ploy; it’s an existential miscalculation.

The Backfire: From Bulletin-Board Material to Blueprint for Failure

In the realm of sports psychology, “bulletin-board material” is a trope: inflammatory comments pinned up by the opposition for motivation. Conrad’s words served as exactly that, but for his own team as much as India. For a South African side in transition, with a Test squad brimming with confidence but an ODI team in rebuilding mode, the comment created an unnecessary pressure-cooker environment. It raised expectations and framed the contest as a visceral grudge match, when the reality for the ODI unit was one of experimentation and development.

The Indian team, mature and battle-hardened, likely needed no extra motivation. But Conrad’s words gave the series a narrative edge they could comfortably exploit. They played with the calm, assertive authority of a side that knows its place at the pinnacle, allowing the opposition’s rhetoric to crumble under the weight of its own ambition. Each South African batting collapse seemed to echo the hollowness of the pre-series bravado. The comment became a stick with which to beat the coach and the team, shifting the focus from performance to perception.

Conrad’s Contrition: A Sign of Modern Leadership?

Conrad’s acceptance of his mistake is the most compelling chapter of this saga. In an era where coaches and captains often double down on provocative statements or dismiss them as “mind games,” his candid mea culpa is refreshing. It demonstrates a pragmatic, results-oriented leadership style. He recognised that his words did not galvanise his troops but instead added a layer of burdensome narrative to a young side.

This contrition is also a tacit acknowledgment of cricket’s new world order. The era of colonial-style verbal dominance is over. Respect, even amidst fierce rivalry, is the currency of the modern game, especially when dealing with a nation like India. Conrad’s retreat from the “grovelling” comment is a symbolic retreat from an outdated mode of engagement. It suggests an understanding that beating India requires not the language of subjugation, but the language of skill, strategy, and sustained excellence.

The Bigger Picture: South Africa’s Identity and the Road Ahead

Ultimately, this episode is a footnote in South Africa’s larger cricketing journey. Conrad’s primary success lies with the Test team, which secured a convincing 1-0 series win against India, a monumental achievement. His aggressive, confident approach is tailored for the red-ball format and has yielded results. The ODI comment was a misfire, a case of applying a Test-match, siege-mentality mindset to the wrong context.

The lesson for South Africa, and for all cricketing nations, is one of nuance. Rivalry can be intense without being demeaning. Confidence must be backed by capability, not just provocative soundbites. The Indian cricket ecosystem—from its vast talent pool to its IPL-honed players to its institutional might—cannot be intimidated by words. It can only be challenged by superior play on the field.

Shukri Conrad’s journey from provocative pronouncement to public apology is a modern cricket parable. It tells of a sport where history’s echoes must be carefully handled, where words carry immense power, and where true strength lies not in trying to make an opponent grovel, but in having the grace to admit when you’ve stumbled. As both teams move forward, the incident will likely be remembered not for the humiliation it intended to conjure, but for the humility it ultimately inspired. In the end, the only thing left grovelling was the coach’s unfortunate choice of words, wisely retracted in the clear light of a defeated day.