THERE'S been a right kerfuffle Down Under, in case you hadn't noticed.

Australia's cricketers - who, for years, have been proudly dishing out vulgar and often extremely personal abuse - have got their athletic supports in a twist over an alleged racial insult by Indian spinner Harbajan Singh. The Indians, however, claim Singh (aka "The Turbanator") is innocent (although he has admitted to insulting Symonds' mother), and even threatened to go home unless the charge was withdrawn.

Neither side emerges with much credit from the controversy. Nor does the ICC, the sport's governing body, which quickly caved in to pressure from India, the game's undisputed commercial giants, by standing down umpire Steve Bucknor.

But even Aussie sports fans, normally so gung-ho, have turned on captain Ricky Ponting for "dobbing" Singh.

He and his team can dish it out, they feel, but can't take it.

Ponting's predecessor, Steve Waugh, old "Stoneface" himself, used to dress up the abuse, otherwise known as sledging, as "mental disintegration".

It was part of the game, claimed Waugh, which runs contrary to the old saying, "it's just not cricket".

But a bit of banter has always played a part in the sport, and former Notts and England batsman Derek Randall, for one, used to drive the Aussies up the wall with his non-stop, but always good-natured, chatter.

Even at less-exalted levels, though, cricketers have always had a word or two out in the middle.

A few years ago now, when I used to play locally, it was well known that certain players and clubs were, shall we say, a bit chirpier than others.

My team were more vocal than most. Why, I was even known to have a bit to say myself - but found, to my cost, that reverse-sledging can be much more effective than a torrent of put-downs.

We used to have some good tussles with a side out in the sticks. The game was always hard-fought, but fair, and the after-match hospitality was top class.

Win or lose, we'd stay for a drink with the village team, and have a good chat about the match - and no one was friendlier than their skipper and wicketkeeper. So imagine my surprise one season when I walked out to bat and greeted the stumper like an old mate... only to be ignored.

Instead of exchanging pleasantries, he simply stood there, slowly tapping his gloves together, looking past me with one of those 1,000-yard stares.

And as the quick bowler steamed in, instead of concentrating on how to keep him out, I was fretting over what I must have done to upset the opposing captain.

Sure enough, the stumps went flying - and as I trudged off, I heard a little chuckle from the keeper.

He'd done me like a kipper and, naturally, we had a good laugh about it later.

If only Ponting and his counterpart Anil Kumble could do the same.