
Sharad Kohli
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Forget fancy footwork – teamwork is the real game-changer in sports. This article dives into the power of relationships between athletes, exploring how strong bonds can make the difference between triumph and defeat.
What have relationships got to do with games? Well, plenty. They’re as important in individual as in team sports, their robustness (or not) is often the difference between ‘triumph and disaster’
Success in any field rarely happens in a vacuum. There’s always a parent or partner, a mentor or coach, a guru or teacher, someone who influences and inspires, encourages and empowers the disciple or apprentice to realise their talent, give wings to their dreams, to be the best version of themselves. But in sport as in life, it’s one thing to prove yourself, to show that you belong. It’s altogether another to withstand the slings and arrows of fate and find motivation even when your mind and body rebel, to keep on keeping on and separate yourself from your peers.
Success also depends on us leaving our egos at the door before we train for the next tournament or match before we prepare to take on our opponent on the field, court or track. For, just as any relationship requires sacrifices and compromises, so does a sporting partnership. Of course, every alliance is different, as are its demands, its commitments and its challenges.

In golf, the bond between player and caddie depends as much upon what is said as what is not. “To be a successful caddie, you have to know what to say at the right time,” said Fanny Sunesson once. In the 1990s, this Swede caddied for Englishman Nick Faldo, helping him win four of his six Major championships. Sunesson was the first woman to be on the bag for any male Major winner.
Disagreements on selection of club or strategy are as common as birdies and bogeys, and a player may overrule the counsel of her caddie, preferring instead to follow her hunch. But, as long as there is trust among the duo, misunderstandings rarely tip over into a full-blown quarrel. As Ireland’s Padraig Harrington once articulated of his caddie, Ronan Flood, “He is quite forthright with his opinion – Ronan doesn’t believe he’s right all the time, which is very important.”
The fruitful and long-lasting collaborations between golfers and their bagmen – Faldo and Sunesson, Jim Furyk and Mike ‘Fluff’ Cowan, Bernhard Langer and Peter Coleman, Annika Sorenstam and Terry McNamara, Greg Norman and Tony Navarro, Phil Mickelson and Jim ‘Bones’ Mackay – had in common an unwavering belief in and an abiding regard for the other. They would not have persevered for so many years – decades even – had this not been so.
Tennis, on the other hand, is played at a faster pace than golf, doubles tennis even more so, and thus requires quick thinking. Yet, as crucial as presence of mind is the gift of taking slip-ups and awkward moments in your stride. “In doubles, you have to have the ability to laugh,” reckoned Pam Shriver, who with Martina Navratilova formed the most successful Grand Slam pairing in the professional era (20 titles). “If it was straight, serious, no-nonsense stuff, we wouldn’t have lasted that long.”
And honesty matters as much as loyalty. “In doubles tennis, you’re both equal partners, (and) you have to be able to speak truth to each other, but with empathy,” stressed Mike Bryan, who with brother Bob formed one-half of the most winningest men’s duo of all time. Much the same would hold for another set of American siblings, Serena and Venus Williams, formidable on their own, indomitable together (14).
Australians, meanwhile, place an almost mythical emphasis on mateship, of looking out for each other. So, it’s little wonder that the best doubles combinations have come from Down Under, including John Newcombe and Tony Roche (12), and Todd Woodbridge and Mark Woodforde (11). But just as effective have been bonds formed across borders, such as the one between Natasha Zvereva (Belarus) and Gigi Fernández (USA), who shared an obvious chemistry, and a joy in playing for each other.
Team talks: All together now
In cricket, it’s not only fast bowlers but also spinners that have flourished together, though possibly the greatest combination in the sport’s history remains the one between metronomic quick Glenn McGrath and once-in-a-generation leggie Shane Warne. And even though the odd pairing may have been more about rivalry than rapport – as in the case of Wasim Akram and Waqar Younis, for example – that eagerness to outdo the other would have benefited the collective.
But when we think of cricketing partnerships, we think of batters setting up a platform for their team, or digging their colleagues out of a hole in a match-saving stand. Such feats of skill, concentration and endurance call for clear lines of communication as well as trust, understanding and camaraderie. Long-standing and productive double acts – among them, Mahela Jayawardene and Kumar Sangakkara, Gordon Greenidge and Desmond Haynes, Matthew Hayden and Justin Langer, Rahul Dravid and Sachin Tendulkar, and Alastair Cook and Andrew Strauss – demonstrated each of these qualities, and then some more.
And the partnership needn’t be friendly or fraternal; it just has to be respectful. “We always had a very good relationship based on mutual respect,” Haynes said of his opening partnership with Greenidge, back in the days when the West Indians dominated the game. Still, being cobbers does help. “He is a bit like my brother,” Langer, stocky, courageous and combative, remarked of his fellow opening batter Hayden, tall, assertive and arrogant.
Oftentimes, it’s an understanding at a deeper, even subconscious, level; you just recognise what works for the other. “Over time, you get to know what makes each other tick, you get to know what best to say and what best not to say,” Strauss commented on his alliance with Cook, both, incidentally, southpaws, but no less effective for being so.
Football, hockey and rugby depend less on partnerships than on the team playing according to a plan or formation, and each player and their position being in sync with every other. In other words, those on the wing feeding to strikers, and those in defence blocking effectively or cleaning up. Still, one can’t be too selfish, too greedy or overconfident, for that can suggest a lack of faith in your teammates. And the same goes for basketball, volleyball and handball.
In relay races, out on the track or in the pool, timing is of the essence. Get the handover slightly wrong and you risk losing the race. Here, all four link up and rely on each other, to a greater extent than they think, as Aussie swimming legend Ian Thorpe so redolently described it: “This is why relays are so important – because you can find more in yourself for someone else, than what you can ever find for yourself.”
Yet, if some players feel they don’t belong in a team, it’s unlikely their fellow travellers will enjoy the ride, or that victory will taste as sweet as it would in a welcoming environment. And for every Jwala Gutta and Ashwini Ponnappa, a match-up made in badminton heaven, there is a Leander Paes and Mahesh Bhupathi, whose games complemented each other brilliantly but who could have achieved so much more had their strong personalities not derailed a winning streak.
Ultimately, it’s all down to the dynamic that exists between partners, or within teams, to that moment when athletes – veterans and rookies, journeymen and the greatest of all time – are together able to find a happy balance between the tension of the chase and adrenaline rush of accomplishment.
Perhaps the last word should go to Mike Bryan, somebody who knows a thing or three about the formula for success. “A great coach or leader of any team should be able to prevent little feuds arising between teammates.” Or perhaps it was Alexandre Dumas, French novelist and dramatist, who said it best: “All for one, one for all.”