My friend, who fancies himself as a judge of human character, went on to suggest that this (support for the underdog) was a sign of inner frailty, a flaw. He was driving at the common perception that losers beget a loser mentality.

Is rallying behind a champion really a way of emancipation, leaving no room for the baggage of irony and self-deprecation that comes with defeat in your corner? The nature of this debate is brilliantly captured in the comedy film A Fish Called Wanda, with its classic example of "Brits are from Mars, Americans are from Venus." In the scene where Kevin Kline's American character is about to finish off the Brit played by John Cleese, the former gives vent to his feelings about England: "You know your problem? You guys don't like winners!" To which Cleese replies "Winners...like North Vietnam?" This gets Kline all defensive; "We didn't lose to North Vietnam! It was a tie!"

My peers have tended to view my support for New Zealand with curious disdain. Now, rooting for the underdog is something that actually comes quite naturally to us Indian fans. The current decade has finally given us (I use 'us' and 'we' with some reservations, given that the Indian cricket has always been my second love, behind the kiwis) the sort of brash, assertive team we've been craving for decades, and we can confidently expect more victories than defeats. And yet, we continue to align ourselves with less fancied teams when watching neutral encounters.

Perhaps this is because, for the most part of the previous century, Indian cricket mirrored India's gradual development as a free nation; an impassioned struggle for respect and self-belief, so we could assert ourselves among the world's elite. We celebrate, in our history, many revolutionaries who fought (often in vain) to secure freedom from an alien ruler. This celebration extends to cricket, which is why most Indians would have cheered for Chris Gayle's lone vigil against the Lankans in today's semi final - a man trying to make a statement on behalf of his team, as well as his belief in the supremacy of this T20 format. The same fans - provided they weren't blinded by nationalism - would also have cheered Pakistan's improbable march to the finals, in the face of troubled times.

However, I doubt much sympathy would've been extended to the poor South Africans. The pathos in their defeat, that of a team trying to shake of the yoke of being labelled "chokers", has not been lost on us; yet we, or most of us anyway, would have had a good laugh at it. Maybe this brand of defeat is something we'd rather not identify with, because it somehow exudes hopelessness instead of that heroic-romantic aura.

Which brings me to the main point. In defeat, to garner the affection of onlookers, you must be a certain kind of loser. The England side of the 1990s, whose messy defeats often bordered on parody, makes for an interesting study in this regard. Mark Ramprakash, often unjustly treated by the selectors, was always battling insecurity and inner demons; you could see it at the crease, and the feeling persists his manner was too tedious and neurotic for him to be liked.

By way of contrast, Darren Gough, with his cheeky smile and his antic of lying flat on the ground after dropping a catch, was impossible not to love. His luckless streak actually worked for him, endearing him to us all the more. Which is why I feel New Zealand should give Shane Bond a contract and lure Chris Cairns out of retirement, even if it makes no difference to their results; if they must be losers, let them at least be lovable losers.

I initially got thinking about the underdog issue when I remembered my response to a blog post back in April. The article featured team previews and predictions for the upcoming edition of the IPL, and I stated that I would support the Deccan Chargers because "somebody has to" (they were completely written off in the comments section; even the writer, a Hyderabadi herself, had no hopes for them).

In hindsight, it was funny that most fans chose to overlook a team which had Symonds and Gilchrist in it. But, now that I think of it, was I supporting these underdogs for the right reasons? Nevermind, self doubt is a bastard of a thing.