A good time to invest in Smith stock

Shane Warne calls him the Bouncing Bear. Others go for Mr Fidget. Now we must call him the 45th captain of Australia. To understand the import of this, you need to travel awhile in this vast land and feel the love. The love, that is, for bat and ball. Cricket is North and South and East and West. It is the working week, the Sunday's rest. This is not a country that refers in passing to cricket, it is a country whose soul is invested deep within the game's past, present and future. The Australian cricket authorities would not sell that soul to satellite television for all the gold that was once in Bathurst and Ballarat.

On Monday Steven Smith was announced as the new captain of Australia. It is a job considered second only to that of prime minister. Who is the most famous Australian of them all? Sir Donald Bradman. Who is the most famous Australian now? Shane Warne, of course. Sorry Tony, and Kylie and Cate and Edna for that matter, but it is true. From now on in, Smith has the eyes of a nation upon him. Ask Michael Clarke.

Clarke had endorsed Brad Haddin, who did wonderfully well in the captain's shoes on Saturday in Adelaide. But then some might say he would. After all, Haddin won't nick Clarke's job, Smith could.

One wonders if any sportsman has had a month like the one Clarke has just been through. The fellow has lurched from one unlikely drama to another and each time played the lead part. The world has watched his blood and sweat, and his tears, as if watching fiction. Remember that prior to Phillip Hughes being hit, the captain was in rehab for a different injury. He appeared at odds with Cricket Australia over many things, not just the vexed question of his fitness to play a Test match. Something had to give. And that something could not have been more cruel.

But he would not, could not, surrender to it. Come the first day in Adelaide, come Michael Clarke. That 120-odd he made in the first innings of the Test was remarkable, coming as it did in two very different parts. The first 60 was will power: mind beating the matter of his lost form. The second 60 was dreamlike, the sort of thing you awake from and think: wow, weird. Essentially he just stood still and tall at the wicket and set free a lifetime in the game. The innings was a testament to the value of hand-eye coordination. And it was a manifestation of talent without the boundaries that so often betray it.

Now he wonders if he will play again and knows that if he does, but not for some time, Smith may have impressed his peers and won prizes. If that is the case, it may not matter a jot that the selectors made it plain the new man is cover for the old. Once a captain loses the dressing room to another, the die is cast. Goodness, you feel for him. At home, watching, wondering. Alone. His immense part in one of the greatest Test matches is already consigned to history. Now, already, there is nothing the captain of the winning team can do but find the strength to come again. In the meantime it is the knife, the medics, the physios and the rehab. Long, lonely hours. Watching, wondering. This is the sportsman's darkness.

Clarke was once a blond and fresh-faced 25-year-old who had fun batting right-handed, with more than your average gift, and bowled some tweakers. He could catch flies and read the game easy as a book. Some thought him a tad cocky at the beginning but soon saw the heart was good and the mind better. Cross out Clarke, replace him with Smith.

Steven Peter Devereux Smith - three poncey initials, very pommy. But that is where it ends, for Smith is a very Australian man, another who does not appear to be plagued by self-doubt. Batting in his cap against the Indian spinners and scampering up and down the pitch with an extravagant variety of responses, he took one back to more innocent days. Recent publicity photographs are kindly, more Ponsford and Woodfull than Ponting and Warne.

He does, like many a young sportsman, seem to enjoy it all so much. And that is where the selectors have taken their gamble. Haddin's ways are set, Smith's are being formed. Now the selectors have given Smith something else to think about. Something about which everyone in Australia will have a view. The rules of engagement have changed. Smith is public property and, though still his own man, everyone in the land has an investment in him. It has been a good time to buy Smith stock. Now the price has risen so dramatically, what would you do next? Buy more or sell him before the attention takes its toll?

Buy is the answer. Why? For a start, the massive improvement in his cricket during these past, close to crazy, 18 months for Australia. Then the acceptance of responsibility: the skill and nerve to rid his reputation of the cameo and, instead, win matches for his country. A highlight in these acts is the determination to see off a good bowler and cash in on the less good. Bravado, though still an essential attribute to his batting, had been tempered by practicality and, better still, accountability.

Watch him in the field, see the concentration. Look out for general awareness and, specifically, anticipation of a moment. Admire the body language, which has gone from "me" to "us". Watch him bowl, and smile at the unforgiving response to the dross of long hops and full-bungers. Watch as the hands are rubbed with glee at one that spins past the bat. Warne thinks Smith can be a better legspinner with a simple modification or two, and hours of practice. Does any sporting skill need such time? Will he find that time? If one thing gives in the journey about to be undertaken by SPD Smith, it could be the wristspin.

Suddenly these are better days for Australian cricket. Smith has chosen a good time. If, that is, one chooses these things. The team is together and an advantage in the current series has been earned. The Gabba suits Australians more than Indians. Boxing Day at the MCG is a celebration. Best of all, Smith is in the form of his life. There is no time like the present.