Neither-Nor: A Young Australian’s Experience with Deafness

17. Aussie, Aussie, Aussie! Oi, Oi, Oi!

17 Aussie, Aussie, Aussie! Oi, Oi, Oi! My time with the North Melbourne Cricket Club ended in December 1995. That was also the end of my childhood dream to be a professional cricketer. I had better things on my mind, which was playing for the Australian Deaf Cricket team in the inaugural Deaf World Cup. Australia was host to England, India, New Zealand, Pakistan, South Africa, and Sri Lanka. I was one of the four Victorian players selected for the team. Harry, whom I had met on the train to South Australia two years previously , made his place as a bowler. Since my signing had not improved, he also helped relay messages and conversations. The stories I heard of previous Test matches played in England and the subcontinent were remarkable . It is not a lie when people say that the Indians love their cricket. In the 1980s, matches between the Indian and Australian Deaf cricket teams drew 50,000 spectators over five days. I suspected this was exaggeration, but numerous players from both countries insisted they had photographs as proof. Before the games commenced, our captain told us to be wary of England and undermanned India. Both teams proved dominant as the tournament progressed. Given the scarcity of finances (many deaf people have low-income jobs or are unemployed), it was difficult to have an evenly competitive World Cup of Deaf Cricket. But the stakes were high. The Sri Lankan team didn’t arrive until the morning of the first match because the Sri Lankan government had been undecided about whether to use the money for victims of civil war or to purchase airline tickets for the players to tour Australia. Their eventual decision was a testament to the seriousness with which each team played to succeed. The Indian, Sri Lankan, and Pakistani cricketers didn’t wear hearing aids and sign language was practically useless, since Auslan (Australian Sign Language) was incompatible with their manual languages. Each of 121 the subcontinent countries had an English-speaking hearing person on their team who was able to translate whenever players of each team met; otherwise we resorted to the most rudimentary signs by nodding, smiling , and pointing. Many players from Western countries, including England , South Africa, New Zealand, and Australia, shared the common traits of wearing hearing aids and sometimes being able to use speech, which made communication easier for players like me. While respective hand languages were different, many signs and alphabets were similar. The common tongue of English also assisted communication in a big way, because a written note could easily amend a misunderstanding. My sign language skills were pathetic. A reciprocator is critical when learning any new language, but I never had an opportunity to use sign language over long periods. My hands displayed neither the speed nor clarity necessary to conduct a fluent manual conversation, so I often disrupted conversations by using the hand sign for WHAT—holding the pointer finger up and wagging it side to side. I had always thought I knew enough to “get by,” but that must have appeared arrogant to a native signer, and I was to find out the hard way with an English cricketer named Adrian. We were at the Victorian Deaf Club near the massive stands of the Melbourne Cricket Ground. More than 100 hand linguists were conversing. There was also a commotion of hoarse voices pierced by the hooting laughter typical of the Deaf. I came to the point where it was easier to simply turn my hearing aids off and be deaf like every one else—a trick that worked beautifully, or so I thought at the time. The English Deaf team had arrived that night. Many of my Australian teammates were rekindling friendships made on a recent Deaf Ashes tour in England. As a “new boy,” I was eager to be part of the action and signed to Adrian, MY NAME PAUL. I WANT TO GO ENGLAND. SEE FAMILY IN ENGLAND. He gave a quizzical look. Confident that I was signing correctly, I repeated the message —but received the same response. How could such a simple message produce such bafflement? He repeated the sign for ENGLAND . I nodded my wrist to say YES. “Me not gay,” I gathered. Plus, he used his voice concurrently, which helped me. n e i t h e r- n o r 122 au s s i e , au...