WHAT Jimmy Anderson has done by trying to paint the Australian team as sore losers after the first Test is smart.

He’s got the English tabloids in his pocket because they won. His bowling is still very good and he’s now trying to twist the knife in. So good luck to him.

But let’s be serious, he’s the last bloke that should be talking about whether Australia should, or shouldn’t, be having a drink after a game because he was the first to go and report everything that happens in the dressing room.

A few years ago Jimmy released a book that exposed a stoush I had with Damien Martyn after the 2006 Adelaide Test. He even quoted me calling Marto “the biggest w***er on the planet”. What was said that day is beside the point. It was one of those moments that happen all the time in cricket that happen in private.

It was none of his business to go writing about it. It’s a cardinal sin to go into an opposition dressing room and then report what happened. It’s just wrong. If it’s funny or a good yarn and 10 or 15 years down the track someone wants to bring it up, then happy days. But outside of that all cricketers know to live by that old expression: “What happens on tour, should stay on tour.” Otherwise, why would you invite someone in your dressing room?

We didn’t really get to know Jimmy that well during my playing days but he wasn’t the most popular player, that’s the bottom line.

I was always a bit sporadic about when I’d want to drink with the opposition.

In earlier eras there were rest days between matches and everyone used to get on it together, play golf, go fishing — the old boys have got stories about having a great time. Cricket had a lot more of that social aspect to it. It was just different.

Even during my early days in Sheffield Shield cricket it was tradition for the batting side to visit the fielding side’s dressing room after a day’s play to have a beer. It was just to get to know each other and to learn. I’d be sitting next to the old boys who had played domestic and international cricket for ages and soaking it up. I wouldn’t say much.

But it slowly began to change. After a while you’d only do it at the end of the match. Then it became the end of the series.

I remember Allan Lamb — who was part of an era where the English and Australian players mixed a lot and had great times together — saying to me ahead of the 2005 Ashes that I was missing out on the best part of playing cricket, which was enjoying the company of the opposition. “You’re too serious, you’re surly, you’re sulky, you’re too aggressive,” he told me.

If it had come from anyone else I wouldn’t have paid much attention but he was a really good mentor of mine and after hearing that I thought I’d try a bit harder to get to know the opposition. Then what happens? The moment I soften my view we were beaten by England.

It might not seem like an important factor because you’re talking about such a small difference in your mindset. But if you lose your edge by one per cent it can mean a 100 per cent difference in the result.

In the 2006 Ashes I couldn’t think of anything worse than talking to the English players because I knew it was one of the weaknesses we had in 2005. We got a bit chummy and Australia plays its best cricket when it’s borderline angry and just wants to really dominate.

So I completely understand the Australian team’s reaction. They just need to shut their mouths and do their jobs, which is the message Michael Clarke is sending by saying, “We’re not drinking with them tonight, fellas.”