May 21st, 2013 / Author: legsidefilth
You have to feel for Tim Southee. You lead your team from the field an hour before lunch on the the fourth day, having bowled your side to a chance of victory and gotten your name on the fabled Lord’s honours board with your fourth five-wicket haul in Tests and match figures of 10-108. You are only the second player in history to have taken ten wickets in a match at Lord’s for New Zealand. England have crashed from 180-6 overnight to 213 all out. The result isn’t a foregone conclusion – with 239 needed, your team will still have to achieve the third highest fourth-innings run-chase at this ground – but victory is so close now, you can taste it.
A little under two hours of play later and it’s all over, your side incredibly and ignominiously vanquished by 170 runs and your bowling overshadowed by Stuart Broad’s dramatic return to form – 7 wickets at the cost of only 44 runs in just 11 overs – after a lacklustre performance on Friday in which it never seemed to twig that bowling short and wide was doing nothing but feeding run-hungry batsmen. How you must wish that particular penny never dropped. You could be forgiven for wondering what the hell just happened.
Southee steams in at Lord’s
Ah, cricket. Test cricket, more precisely. While those who’d paid £60 for a ticket shivered in the stands on a day which saw more cloud than sun, at least the thought that it was miles away from the IPL and its spot-fixing and assorted histrionics could be guaranteed to provide a little warmth; otherwise Day 1 had precious little going for it. Thursday was moribund batting of the dullest kind, self-preservation at its most dour as England, perhaps mindful of underestimating New Zealand the last time round, seemed to regard any run rate faster than a plodding two an over as the height of extravagant negligence, akin to leaving a toddler alone for a fortnight with a supply of oven chips and Haribo while the parents take off for Ibiza. This is what the fear of failure does to you; it wasn’t just the spectators who were frozen.
It was forecast to be a rain affected draw, but only 10 overs were lost on Thursday; a drizzly end to a day that fizzled out when it had never really got going. Expectations for the rest of the match were for more of the same. How wrong we all were.
Each day after that featured a collapse of wickets as the narrative speeded up considerably, giving us episodes of drama and achievement, and records too, as James Anderson found himself only the fourth Englishman to reach 300 Test wickets, just reward for a bowler who is arguably yet to reach his peak. Amongst the clatter of timbers and the wafts to slip there were fine instances of youthful maturity too – Joe Root temporarily steadied the ship with Jonathan Trott in a partnership of 123 and while he failed to get his name on the board this time, bowled by Tim Southee for 71, that he will do so in the future seems a likelihood close to certainty. New Zealand’s Root equivalent, Kane Williamson, showed the type of cool-headed watchfulness familiar to those who’ve seen him already in county cricket. That he is his country’s vice captain shows that New Zealand Cricket are already thinking along the same lines as England are with Joe Root in planning for the future.
Sunday, though, belonged to Stuart Broad. A bowler who some love to hate, who irritates with his self of sense-entitlement, his dogged insistence on following his own wrong-headed strategies and his petulant confrontations with umpires, he’s blown hot and cold over the last couple of years when it comes to his wicket-taking effectiveness. On Sunday, though, he was scorching: you could have been forgiven if you saw curls of smoke rising up from the ripped-up ruin of Bruce Martin’s wicket – stump, camera and all wrenched violently out of the ground by an unplayable delivery.
Like a hurricane, Stuart Broad left New Zealand in ruins. The rebuilding will have to be quick. Daniel Vettori, who played his last Test ten months ago, has recovered from a troublesome Achilles injury and has been called up to replace the injured Bruce Martin. England have already named an unchanged squad for Headingley.
That Broad is back to his best constitutes the laying of good foundations for the start of England’s Ashes defence in June. As far as New Zealand goes, however, they have some serious shoring up to do before their next encounter with Cyclone Stuart on Friday.
May 13th, 2013 / Author: legsidefilth
There may not have been many there to see it, but when Joe Root raised his bat yesterday to a gloomy, virtually empty Grace Road on reaching 150 against the touring New Zealand team, there was a significance about it that seemed distinctly at odds with the grey skies and the echoing stands. The atmosphere at Lord’s on Thursday will be very different but, like a concert pianist performing in an empty auditorium, he played with all the concentration of a man who had set himself a task to complete and a high standard to meet in achieving it. Shortly after he was dismissed, bowled by Doug Bracewell, the rains arrived with a soggy finality and the match was drawn. But his 179 was an innings that shone through the murk with its maturity and strokeplay and will have given the few spectators who turned up something to remember as they dashed through the rain to their cars. Summer in England? Don’t you believe it.
Joe Root at Grace Road
Summer it is, though – even if the only summer that matters most to cricket watchers this year is prefixed with the word “Ashes”. There have been entire articles written riffing on the culinary metaphors that the two-Test series against New Zealand brings to mind as a support act to the year’s big draw: appetiser, entrée, amuse bouche. England certainly made a meal of their last encounter against the Kiwis, with Matt Prior saving England’s blushes at Eden Park in a last wicket stand with Monty Panesar after they had been comprehensively outplayed over the five days. That 0-0 series draw won’t have been on the agenda, and a similar complacency will surely will be avoided on home turf, though the visitors, led by redoubtable scrapper and James Cagney lookalike Brendon McCullum, will be no tender morsel easily devoured. On the two occasions McCullum has played a Test at Headquarters, he has narrowly missed out on getting his name on the honours board (96 in 2004 and 97 in 2008). Perhaps, for the man Tim Southee refers to as “a born leader”, it’ll be a case of third time lucky.
Joe Root will of course be at Lord’s, along with fellow-Lion Jonny Bairstow, who will be filling in for an injured Kevin Pietersen. Bairstow also batted well at Grace Road, scoring 68 and forming a partnership of 135 with Root. Root captained the Lions on this occasion, and there’s been the suggestion this is to groom him for the England captaincy somewhere down the line – an exceptional bit of forward planning on the part of the management given that Alastair Cook is only 28, but also a clear indication of how highly they think of the 22-year-old Yorkshireman.
One man also at Grace Road, but who won’t be at Lord’s, is a former Lions captain, and once called Grace Road his home. James Taylor led the Lions in March against Australia A and was one of the few England players to emerge with any credit in a series in which they took a downright hammering, but despite a steady start to his Test career against South Africa last year at Headingley he seems to have been unceremoniously deemed surplus to England requirements.
While Taylor may have defected to “the other lot” (Nottinghamshire, if you’re a Leicestershire fan, and I can only be impartial most of the time) one still can’t but hope for the best for him, that his England career revives, or, at the very least, he makes the case for his selection an overwhelming one, especially now he is playing in the first division. Unfortunately, for the watching England selectors who’d hinted heavily that only runs in county cricket’s top tier would impress them, his grand total of 2 on his return to Grace Road won’t have done much to convince them – despite scores of 112 and 97 so far this season in the Championship, with an average of 57.4.
While considering Taylor’s situation, it was inevitable that thoughts should stray to Leicestershire, who face their own challenges this year.
Crippling financial losses, a washed-out season and the departure of key personnel meant that 2012 was a bit of a grim crashing-down-to-earth after the heady heights of 2011′s T20 success but, happily, there is still talent aplenty coming up through the club’s youth academy and age groups – ten players in the current squad have progressed through this system.
One Fox who many feel should have been a Lion this year is Shiv Thakor. Leicestershire’s youngest ever first-class centurion on début against Loughborough MCCU in 2011, he scored his maiden Championship ton earlier this season when he helped the county secure a draw against Kent. His First Class average is currently 53.11; last year he topped both the First Class and List A averages for the club. A batting all-rounder with talent to spare, he has been an England Under-19 captain and idolises Jacques Kallis. He has “future superstar” written all over him.
Already the parallels with James Taylor are appearing. Early promise, blossoming talent, the pundits sitting up and taking notice, the inevitable questions over whether a move to a first division club to further his career already being raised in interviews. There’s an uncomfortable sense of déja vu about it all.
To his credit, Thakor has played an impeccable straight bat to such queries, but we’re all thinking it, aren’t we – it’s surely a matter of when, not if, a wealthier club come sidling onto the scene with their siren-call of riches and a leg-up on the England ladder.
While the Lions were running the New Zealand fielders ragged, with murmurs of admiration from the few who’d turned up greeting young Joe Root’s silky drives through the covers, Shiv Thakor was plying his trade for the Foxes at New Road with yet another half century against Worcestershire. It felt like a world away; county cricket often does in comparison with its glitzier international counterpart.
The start of this season seemed to be greeted with more criticism than usual of the domestic game; and, to be fair, one would struggle mightily to sex up a drizzle-interrupted day of LVCC action at Grace Road mid-week in April when there are other more important considerations, like school, college or holding down a job, or, if you live in Leicester, other sporting attractions such as football and rugby to demand your attention and ticket money.
County cricket may be mocked as deeply unfashionable and in dire need of an overhaul, but England players have to come from somewhere. The question over whether domestic cricket should exist purely to supply the England team, and whether it is also a worthy endeavour in its own right, does not have to be an either/or issue, but it is.
If the England team represents a Ferrari – prone to the occasional breakdown and often in need of tinkering but a blue-chip brand with historic pedigree – county cricket is the jalopy that sits in the corner of the garage that’s cannibalised for parts. In the case of clubs like Leicestershire, that cannibalisation starts early with the snapping up of home-grown talent by richer, covetous neighbours.
Shiv Thakor has extended his contract with Leicestershire to the end of the 2014 season. After that – in terms of the future for him and for Leicestershire County Cricket Club – who knows?
April 15th, 2013 / Author: legsidefilth
There may have been other occurrences of note dominating the news recently, but against the backdrop of political pundits arguing over the legacy of a dead prime minister and North Korea ramping up the rhetoric, it feels like the release of the 150th edition of the Wisden Almanack couldn’t have come at a better time.
You could argue it’s no longer as relevant as it once was, and its pulpit no longer so lofty; the Internet age and the shifting of the sport’s seat of power to the subcontinent means instead of the last word, it’s just another set of opinions.
But if history is, as Thomas Pynchon wrote, “a great disorderly tangle of lines”, for many Wisden represents a straight line through that tangle: the comfort blanket the cricket-lover can turn to when the hair shirt of current events gets a little too scratchy. While its unbroken 150-year run represents as much social history as sporting chronicle, that line of yellow-backed spines is as reassuring as a life-belt station at a storm-lashed beach. Even this year’s cover is reassuring, with the iconic Ravilious woodcut taking the place of the now customary photo (the photo will return next year).
Wisden didn’t mean all that much to me when I was younger. To a working class kid growing up on a Scottish council estate in the 80s, there were other things in life more important than cricket. Now, I can’t imagine my life without it. In his superb article for the Financial Times, Matthew Engel wrote that Wisden appeals to book-lovers first, cricket lovers second. This mirrors my own experience: even in times of great hardship, the one thing my parents never stinted on was books. The printed word was an escape as well as an education; a love that blossomed into a storage problem with a library now nearing critical mass (I gave up on shelves as a storage option years ago, and dare not even contemplate moving some piles lest they be load-bearing ones).
Since discovering my love for the game, I’ve made up for a cricket-less youth by reading everything I can get my hands on concerning the sport’s history. Of the so-far three-hundred-odd volumes on cricket heaped on random flat surfaces around my flat, Wisden comprises a yet-small but still-expanding segment, flashes of yellow strewn like a field of buttercups, keeping the winter’s gloom at bay.
I feel extremely honoured to have contributed to this 150th edition, with an article on blogs entitled “On the outside looking in”. And it pleases me immensely that long-form writing is back in fashion, with both the Almanack and its younger stable-mate, The Nightwatchman flying the flag for cricket writing of the highest quality. Not that this is solely the domain of paper and ink: in the age of instant news and 140-character opinions, it gave me great pleasure to highlight in my article blogs which tend towards a more in-depth consideration of their subject with writing that’s informed, intelligent and interesting. They include Reverse Sweeper, Freddie Wilde, and Donning the whites with grace and you should definitely check them out.
There will be those who will buy this year’s Almanack as an investment, or to turn straight to the bits that make headlines (the Notes by the Editor, the Five Cricketers of the Year, and the Leading Cricketer in the World) before setting it aside.
There will also be those for whom the arrival of a new Wisden means a double celebration, for those who love cricket and who love books, and for whom spring’s been too long in coming.
One of my most treasured possessions is another great time-machine of a book, a 1905 first edition of Beldam and Fry’s Great Batsmen: Their Methods at a Glance, with its wonderful, silver-gel photographs of Victor Trumper, Ranji, and “W.G”. It’s a book I dip into frequently, and it reminds me of the ways in which the sport has changed from then to now, and how many things have stayed just the same.
Now to find room for the 150th Wisden beside it.
March 22nd, 2013 / Author: legsidefilth
Like the giant statue that supposedly straddled the mouth of the harbour at Rhodes in ancient times, Peter Fulton doesn’t move his feet much.
The six-foot-five batsman, the man they call “Two-Metre Peter”, drafted back into the New Zealand side for this series after a period of over three years away from the Test arena, had a typically nervy start to his innings.
Rather than qualifying as one of the seven wonders of the world, his technique is such that you spend the first hour of his innings wondering why the hell he hasn’t gotten out yet. The feet are resolutely planted; balls wide of off-stump are wafted at with shots that constitute neither attack nor defence, with a lot of daylight visible between bat and body – enough space that you could sail a fleet of triremes through if you were an opportunistic invader intent on plunder. This is how he got out at Wellington and Dunedin, back in his crease and poking at deliveries he really should have left alone.
He is the complete opposite of his opening partner, Hamish Rutherford – broad-shouldered and heavy-footed where Rutherford is wiry and nimble, with an almost lumbering rigidity in contrast to Rutherford’s fluid economy of movement. Certainly Rutherford makes more pleasing shapes when batting – the way he leant into a beautiful drive down the ground off Jimmy Anderson, all crisp timing and high right elbow, was a particularly memorable example. Rutherford might have talent in spades but, in a similar vein to his captain, Brendon McCullum, he is also a scrapper, and has the bruises to prove it.
Fulton goes about his business in quieter fashion, a slight frown on his face that suggests perplexity, as though he is grappling with some insoluble problem but determined to battle his way through it nevertheless. Part of this is no doubt nerves, and the pressure that comes with that need to nail down your place in the side. The England bowlers know this, getting in his ear at the earliest opportunity to try to unsettle him.
Then, someone will serve him up a bad ball and the boundaries will start coming and the confidence will start growing. Straight balls will be clipped off the pads; balls outside off-stump will be left alone or pulled to the midwicket boundary, as he starts using his bulk and his slight tendency to lean towards the off-side to his advantage. His physical strength becomes less a leaden weight than a battering ram.
By the time he went to tea on 95, the transformation was complete. Stuart Broad and Steven Finn could only look on in despair, and it’s to Jimmy Anderson’s immense credit that he managed to sustain the aggression with which he ran in on a wicket that gave him nothing. Monty Panesar too, came in for some fearful stick from both Fulton and Williamson, and earlier on from Rutherford, who was the only wicket to fall all day.
I wondered what was going through Fulton’s mind as he approached his maiden Test century. He’s been around the game for a long time. Prior to this, his highest Test score had come in his second match, against the West Indies at the Basin Reserve back in March 2006. He made 75 that day, and lost his wicket with – yep, you guessed it – a prod outside off-stump, feet going nowhere, an outside edge snaffled by the keeper. But all that seemed behind him now. Wiping the sweat from his eyes, forced to wait nine balls on 99, he could be forgiven for looking a little nervous now that that long wait could be about to end. End it did, with a scampered single off Panesar, and a pumped fist in celebration. Whatever the nature of that insoluble problem, maybe this innings will have provided the answer.
Alastair Cook made the same mistake as Brendon McCullum did at Wellington in choosing to bowl first – he was tempted by the siren call of a wicket that was supposed to seam but didn’t; that was supposed to offer more bounce for his quicks but instead gave them deliveries that, even with the new ball in the evening session, died on their way through to the keeper. The only spin on offer was that employed by Steven Finn who reckoned afterwards England had done a good job in “only” allowing New Zealand to put 250 runs on the board in perfect batting conditions. As an attempt to take the positives from a long, frustrating day, it was a pretty desperate one.
Fulton and Williamson’s partnership is currently worth 171; Williamson will resume on 83, Fulton on 124.
It took an earthquake in 226 BC to finally topple the Colossus of Rhodes. With Peter Fulton, it could easily be another ill-advised waft outside off-stump. Until then, and against all expectation, this is one giant who so far has managed to stand firm.
March 21st, 2013 / Author: legsidefilth
Two Tests, two draws.
There’s something almost reassuring in an England series being ruined by rain, regardless of where in the world they might be playing. Truly, England bring their weather with them.
The first Test was one England managed not to lose, and in the second they were prevented from winning by the obdurate steadfastness of Kane Williamson and Ross Taylor’s third-wicket stand, an 81-run partnership that was unbroken when rain stopped play, much to England’s frustration.
Both sides are bullish going into the final Test at Auckland’s Eden Park tonight. It’ll reflect well on the fighting qualities of Brendon McCullum’s men should this too end in a draw, but it would be a definite blow for England’s pride with an Ashes summer ahead – regardless of the disarray Australia are in right now.
Kevin Pietersen has flown home with a knee injury – Jonny Bairstow is expected to play at 5 or 6 while Ian Bell will be pushed up the order to bat at 4 – and a fresh pair of legs for the home side will come in in the form of Doug Bracewell, recovered from his foot injury. While the 0-0 score gives the impression of parity, in truth England have had only one bad innings so far; signs are that, having got that particular nervous tic out of their system, it is back to business as usual for the former number-one Test side. This impression was reinforced by Stuart Broad battling through a heel niggle and a recent run of poor form to take 6-51 in New Zealand’s first innings at the Basin Reserve before England enforced the follow on. It was a feat Lazarus could be proud of, were he a fast bowler before he took a bit poorly.
Speaking of signs and portents – maybe it’s because I’ve been watching Vladimir Bortko’s excellent television adaptation of Mikhail Bulgakov’s Master and Margarita recently, but I was slightly perturbed when this popped up on my TV screen:
Instead of a large black cat signalling the advent of satanic shenanigans in Stalin’s Moscow, I like to think of this chap as an unwitting harbinger of extreme weather conditions, given that Cyclone Sandra swept in the next day, breaking the longest drought in New Zealand’s history since 1947. With all the talk being of flat wickets which don’t break up and have offered little for the bowlers, at least it’s kept things interesting in terms of the overall series result. But gods, it looked miserable for the spectators, cowering under their umbrellas on that last day as they waited for play to be called off. But for the slightly more picturesque surroundings, it could have been Grace Road in April.
Thankfully, the forecast for Auckland is for five days of sun.
March 13th, 2013 / Author: legsidefilth
Calling it a winning draw, in the words of Simon Doull on commentary, might have been stretching it a little, but England managed to at least salvage their self-respect at Dunedin after a diabolical start.
Their 167 all out represented the fourth consecutive occasion they’ve scored less than 200 in the first innings in the opening match of a Test series on foreign soil. Like lemmings proceeding in single file off a cliff; or a man standing on the edge of a subway platform who feels the irrational urge to jump though every ounce of reason or logic tells him not to; that or first-day-back-at-school recklessness; it’s almost something England feel they have to get out of their system nowadays before buckling down in the second innings and showing us what we know they’re capable of.
Only Jonathan Trott showed the application that was necessary, and if there were any lingering doubts as to the fact the pitch had no demons in it whatsoever, Hamish Rutherford quickly dispelled them as he made the most of the benign conditions with an assured and confident 171 on debut. Whether or not he’d find batting as easy on a subcontinental turner, or a truly green seamer, as he made it look here remains to be seen, but that’s not to take anything away from a knock that was impressive in its strokeplay and maturity. This lad’s got a future.
England may have regained their self-esteem thanks to second-dig centuries from Cook and Compton, and the heretofore-unrevealed talents of Steven Finn as an all-rounder, out lbw for 56, to ensure the draw. But watching that contagion of collapse that swept through their first innings like the batting equivalent of Spanish flu, one can’t help but wish England would rid themselves of this alarming psychological glitch.
Thankfully, on past record, this is unlikely to happen in the second Test at Wellington, which starts tonight. At the very least this should be a more equal contest between bat and ball, the pitch at Dunedin proving so moribund as to kill off any chance of a result once the first day was lost to rain. The Wellington wicket will have more in it for the seamers, something that could present a conundrum for New Zealand should they win the toss: bowling first could bring dividends, but Brendon McCullum’s doughty posse of hard-working quicks, who gave their all so wholeheartedly in the first Test – Neil Wagner deserves special mention – may yet be a bit stiff in the legs after their heroic exertions.
If England have a devil on their shoulder urging them to bat like idiots in the first innings of a first Test abroad, Australia have already pushed the self-destruct button, and we’re all standing back and marvelling at the mushroom cloud.
The suspension of four players ahead of the Mohali Test – James Pattinson, Mitchell Johnson, Usman Khawaja and vice-captain Shane Watson – for failing to complete a written self-assessment after the drubbing they received at Hyderabad has provoked much hilarity on Twitter and, elsewhere, more serious examinations of the sport’s growing professionalism and how this needs to be reflected in “team culture”. Coach Mickey Arthur has said this represents the culmination of “lots of small minor indiscretions that have built up to now… Being late for a meeting, high skin folds, wearing the wrong attire, backchat or giving attitude are just some examples of these behavioural issues that have been addressed discreetly but continue to happen”. He has the full backing of captain Michael Clarke, who referred to “a number of issues on this tour where I don’t think we have been hitting our standards”.
Ultimately, though, this whole shemozzle has been exposed to the glare of public hilarity and derision through four cricketers’ refusal to turn in their homework on time. More seriously for Australian cricket, it exposes the fact that there isn’t a heck of a lot of respect for coach and captain amongst the squad, and that if management are going off the deep end over paperwork, then, like a school teacher screaming hysterically at a classroom full of unruly six year olds, it’s plain they’ve already lost control. With all the talk over Clarke’s at-times tense relationships with players under his watch, past and present, it also shows up the mythical Aussie concept of “mateship” to be just that – a myth. How Australia pull themselves together after this, to the extent where their focus falls once again on the sport’s basic concepts – scoring runs and taking wickets instead of assignments and “wellness forms” – remains to be seen.
Meanwhile, England will be looking to press the reset button in Wellington while licking their lips in anticipation of an Ashes contest that’s looking increasingly like going their way with every day that passes.
March 5th, 2013 / Author: legsidefilth
England begin their Test series against New Zealand in a few hours’ time. A New Zealand XI have already beaten them in the recent four-day warm-up match at Queenstown, but the noises coming out of the England camp are those of caution, rather than dismay. England, after all, may have had an indifferent 2012, losing their number one status to South Africa, but they capped off their winter with a surprisingly dominant series victory on the subcontinent against India, and having already beaten New Zealand in the T20s and ODIs, the upcoming three Tests comprise a series England are widely expected to win.
But I’m hoping that, as the Kiwis failed to consistently challenge in those shorter formats conventional wisdom tells us they’re more comfortable in, so they may surprise us in the longer version and maybe shove a spanner or two in the works of the England machine.
It would be one hell of a surprise, admittedly – but anything is possible. If there’s one memory of the late Christopher Martin Jenkins that springs immediately to mind, it was the sound of his dolorous tones on a digital radio under the blankets at 2AM on a cold March night back in 2008 as England, set a target of 300 to win, were bowled out for 110 in the first Test at Hamilton. England did pull themselves together and go on to win the remaining two Tests and the series, but nevertheless that Hamilton hammering was an unpleasant wake-up call; England were timid, clueless, and undercooked. “This is awful,” CMJ pronounced as wickets fell with alarming frequency. It was the voice of a man shocked to the core. Had wickets and runs not been involved, one could imagine this tone reserved for the reading out of a casualty list from a foreign battlefield. Marathon, possibly.
Sadly, though – on paper, on the field, whichever way you look at it – New Zealand are the obvious underdogs. Warrior spirit will only take you so far, and there have been too many off-field distractions in the way of player-management showdowns and gifted and promising players being struck down by injury, from the unfortunate but prosaic, such as Martin Guptill’s hamstring strain, to the just plain daft, with Doug Bracewell suffering a cut foot while sweeping up broken glass after a fairly energetic party. Mind your step chez Bracewell, particularly if you’ve had a few.
Of course the real unwanted guest at this party will be the memory of New Zealand’s recent comprehensive demolition at the hands of a rampant South Africa. 45 all out may not plumb quite the same depths of their 26 all out against England back in 1955, but it’s the elephant in the room that New Zealand fans, and those who want a close-fought competition, can’t ignore. The gap in performance between the two sides at Cape Town and Port Elizabeth was glaringly apparent; as mismatches go, that series was the cricketing equivalent of Manchester United versus Shepshed Dynamo.
It’s provoked a lot of debate recently about the current pool of Test nations and whether some members deserve to be there. The idea of a two-tier structure isn’t new – back in 2009, Dave Richardson, then ICC’s general manager for cricket, suggested that Tests fought between sides of comparable ability would provide more closely fought contests, and safeguard viewing figures and attendance: “Ideally, you want to have the top teams playing against each other, and then teams of lesser standing playing against each other, maybe in a second division or a lesser competition such as the Intercontinental Cup. I think that’s the challenge for the ICC, that it can create some sort of context for Test cricket both at the higher level and at levels below that.”
Former England captain Michael Vaughan has said pretty much the same thing, mainly as a way of ensuring against a player exodus to the IPL and other T20 tournaments, especially if there is a financial incentive for reaching the top tier.
I’m sceptical, though, and to be honest, to me that’s not what the sport is about. Ghettoizing weaker nations in a lower division won’t create an incentive for players to turn out for their country if they’re only likely to face lowly opposition, and since the countries in the lower table would likely be those already strapped financially, it’s hard to see how they could develop substantially enough for promotion without some kind of outside assistance. For players from these nations, the life of a freelance T20 specialist will look infinitely more appealing, and in the short term, financially more rewarding, which seems counterproductive to what Vaughan is suggesting.
The gap between the top and bottom-ranked nations wouldn’t incentivise the weaker nations – it’d just turn the current divide into a yawning chasm.
New Zealand cricket may be at a low ebb just now, but playing against teams of comparable ability when you are a low ebb means you will likely plateau at that level, not rise above it. Should you manage to fight your way up and win promotion to the top division, the challenge to stay there might prove insurmountable. There is absolutely nothing to be gained by this in terms of development. Home series against England, India and Australia are big money spinners for New Zealand cricket. Fans want to watch the best players, those overseas stars who wear their aura like a mantle and whose great deeds precede them, and part of the romance of the game – in fact of all sport – is the hope that the home side manages to overcome the odds and make history of its own. These concerns don’t just apply to New Zealand: because everything is cyclical, what’s to say England couldn’t return to the bad old days of the nineties and find themselves relegated to the second tier, with Australia in the top? What would happen to the Ashes then, with a divisional divide between them?
New Zealand Cricket recently received an ICC handout of $2.14 million, which will be put towards development in coaching and their “A” tours programme. There may be a few New Zealand fans and pundits who bridle slightly at what they see as charity, but this is how it should work – the sport looking after its own, the family of Test nations rallying around each other. (There are, of course, those who could be doing more in this direction – that India may be looking to trim New Zealand’s tour early next year in order to host the Asia Cup doesn’t do much to banish the impression that the weaker nations are already seen as expendable.)
Underdogs may lack pedigree, but that doesn’t mean they should be packed off to a Division 2 homeless shelter, subsisting on their own meagre resources and gazing on in envy at their richer cousins even as the latter look down on them in lofty scorn from the high table of Division 1.
The road to the top’s already a hard one. For those in Division 2, just getting themselves onto that road could prove a test too far.
November 16th, 2012 / Author: legsidefilth
At the end of the second day of England’s warm-up match against Mumbai A, in which India’s new number 3, Cheteshwar Pujara, scored a composed 87, the 24-year-old from Rajkot was keen to underplay his achievement, but his remarks were to prove eerily prescient.
“This match gave me a chance to get used to the actions of the England bowlers, have a look at their strengths,” he said. When asked what they might have learned of him, he concluded, with a smile: “I guess since I’ve scored runs it’s fair to say I’ve learned more.”
He certainly took England’s bowlers to school on Days 1 and 2 of the first Test at Ahmedabad, and reminded those who pay attention to domestic form that when he scores he has a tendency to score big. In first-class cricket, 9 of his 16 hundreds have been scores of over 150; one of those was a triple hundred. When he lifted his bat to the Indian dressing room today to celebrate his 200 – his second Test century after 159 against New Zealand at Hyderabad back in August – you could sense the relief and satisfaction that came with the cementing of the belief that India have found their replacement to the man they called the Wall, Rahul Dravid.
While it’s a little premature to be drawing lofty comparisons so early, there were times during Pujara’s innings when one could have been watching the great man himself in action. Before this Test, I wrote that it’d be interesting to see how he’d go because I hadn’t seen much of him. Then I remembered, glancing back through some of the older entries on this blog, that I’d seen him on debut at Bangalore in 2010. That match was memorable for Shane Warne taking to Twitter to criticise Ricky Ponting’s field placings for Nathan Hauritz, but it also marked the day Pujara scored a calm and assured 72; it seemed his maturity and self composure was evident even then. Then, as today, he showed himself solid in defence, strong off the back foot, with a tidy, unruffled approach to finding the gaps in the field and scoring on both sides of the wicket. It was an auspicious beginning to a career that was then forced onto the back burner for 18 months due to a chronic knee injury that required two operations.
Perhaps at this stage it might be more accurate to call Pujara a buttress, given his predecessor’s monumental achievements built over a long and illustrious career, but when Dhoni called his men in today on 521-8 with Pujara not out on 206, it was clear that the latter was the bulwark that England’s bowling attack had dashed itself against to no avail.
England proved similarly clueless when it came to the 18 overs they batted before the close; retreating into their shells against the spin of Ravichandran Ashwin and Pragyan Ohja and finishing up 3 wickets down for only 41 runs and still 480 runs behind.
In the interview afterwards, Pujara said the plan for India for tomorrow was to take the seven remaining England wickets and then take ten more. Nothing is set in stone, but the task facing the visitors – to somehow salvage a draw – seems insurmountable, and he has been instrumental in making this happen.
Before the start of this series, all the talk when it came to India’s new batting talent was of Virat Kohli. Now, the man they call “Che” has joined him in setting a foundation for a new legacy in Indian cricket. Viva la Revolución.
November 14th, 2012 / Author: legsidefilth
I can’t tell you how much I’ve been looking forward to the Test series starting in India tomorrow.
It’s that time of year again: England’s winter tour to somewhere a damn sight warmer than the Midlands, while you shiver on your couch in the early hours tanked up on Red Bull and espresso, eyes misted over with sleep and hands shaking with an excess of caffeine and excitement – or despair, depending on how bad England’s batting collapse is.
There’s been the hype, the trash-talk and the warning shots across the bow from both sides; sensibilities have already been ruffled and contretemps between fans have carried a tinge of the tetchy. Sabers have been rattled and the warfare – up till now – has been psychological. Predictions have been ping-ponged back and forth. England will be hammered; India are at that transition period where they’re ripe for the picking. Ravichandran Ashwin has a mystery ball; Ravichandran Ashwin is no Saeed Ajmal. England will miss injured fast bowler Steven Finn as he is the only man who can bang the ball in, making full use of his height; the bounce will be so low so he’d be useless anyway.
Even the BCCI’s nonsense over broadcasting and image rights has a comforting inevitability about it – though maybe not for the Sky team, who will have to make do with commentating along to the BCCI feed on a television in a studio in Isleworth. It’s not ideal, but then a stream of commentary delivered through the medium of rap over a diorama of plasticene men with matchsticks for bats would still be preferable to the witterings of Ravi Shastri.
The overall consensus seems to be that India have this series in the bag, but, to be honest, after the recent barrage of T20, I just want to see some good, hard-fought Test cricket. Yes, the pitches will be deader than roadkill and twice as flat – at least until days 4 and 5, when cracks that would put the Marianas Trench to shame should start appearing – so batting first and piling up a massive first innings score will be on the minds of both captains.
There’s been so much talk of “the team” recently, that it’s easy to forget that it’s individuals who light up a stage.
Kevin Pietersen has been successfully “reintegrated” into the team, with the likes of Anderson and Broad mouthing the expected “we need to all move on and let bygones be bygones” platitudes, perhaps (hopefully) having come to the realization that for disparate personalities to rub along together requires some compromise; in which case, welcome to the real world. It’s good that that particular farrago is over and done with, and if some electronics boffin could rig me up to an alarm system that wakes me up when KP comes in to bat I’d be mighty grateful. England’s triumvirate of doughty plodders, Cook, Compton and Trott, will hopefully by then have laid a solid platform on which Pietersen can strut his stuff.
There was a great mention on Twitter the other day that Pietersen’s walk out to the middle in England’s final warm-up match was greeted with the cheering of children massed round the boundary. Ask them what they think of “team unity” and what should happen when “an individual transgresses” in terms of the “fabric of our society” and you’d no doubt get a blank look in response. Like me – like many of us, I suspect – their love of cricket is in large part based on watching players like him get runs.
If there is any player in the Indian team who can lay claim to being the opposition’s version of Pietersen, it is Virat Kohli. Young, outrageously talented and with fine Test centuries against Australia and New Zealand under his belt, he is every inch the modern batsman. Like Pietersen he can be a handful off the field; like Pietersen he can dominate a bowling attack and is exhilarating to watch when his dander is up. With this likely to be Sachin Tendulkar’s last series, Kohli could very well turn out to be the designated keeper of India’s flame.
Speaking of entertainers, it will be good to see Yuvraj Singh back. The man Kevin Pietersen refers to affectionately as “Pie-chucker” will return for his first Test since recovering from a rare form of lung cancer, and the fact he has already taken Pietersen’s wicket in the first warm-up game with his innocuous left-arm spin almost guarantees the fact he will be brought on to bowl at Ahmedabad as soon as KP comes to the crease. Cricket may be India’s religion, but Yuvraj’s illness was a timely reminder that it is, after all, still just a game. That he is now back in the game, as it were, is a wonderful story.
Aside from these headline grabbers there’ll be no doubt much to watch and mull over over the next few weeks. Alastair Cook’s captaincy will be tested. It may be premature to say he does not have the charisma or tactical nous of more illustrious international counterparts such as Graeme Smith, Michael Clarke, Mahela Jayawardene or even Darren Sammy, but then I didn’t see him becoming a success as ODI captain either. But this will be a trial by fire in the Indian crucible.
England entrusting Samit Patel with the number 6 spot is also good to see, as he was one of the few players who emerged from England’s woeful WT20 campaign with any credit; his ability to get runs against spin as well as provide back-up to Graeme Swann with the ball are the reasons he has been picked ahead of Jonny Bairstow, who will no doubt get his chance when Ian Bell flies home before the second Test to be at the birth of his first child.
On the Indian side, I’ll be interested to see how Cheteshwar Pujara goes when he bats at 3, not having seen very much of him. I’ve seen slightly more of their young quick, Umesh Yadav, and while he is yet inexperienced, there’s undoubted potential as well as pace there.
If I were forced to predict the result of this first Test I’d have to say the likeliest outcome will be a draw. But we will certainly have a better idea of the relative strengths and weaknesses of the teams by the end of it – as well as being, through a succession of early mornings (or late nights), a damn sight more tired. But when there’s the prospect of a feast in store, you don’t need sleep to sustain you.
October 11th, 2012 / Author: legsidefilth
When Sri Lanka’s third wicket fell in Sunday’s World Twenty20 final, Mahela Jayawardene turned his eyes upwards. With 51 runs on the board at the halfway stage and chasing 138, it could have been a plea for divine intervention. It could have been simple exasperation. To all the rest of us watching, it signalled the tantalising – and momentous – possibility that the West Indies’ long, turbulent years in the international cricket doldrums might finally be coming to an end.
It was a notable reversal of fortune from the previous time the two sides had met in this tournament: in their Super Eight game Sri Lanka had won by 9 wickets, with only a 65-run partnership between Dwayne Bravo and Marlon Samuels saving the Windies’ blushes. In the final, it was Marlon Samuels again who stepped up when everyone else – including the big-hitting Chris Gayle – fell around him. From 32-2 after ten overs – an uncharacteristically slow start for the West Indies if ever there was one – he managed to drag his team to a total not only respectable but, as it turned out, defendable. Sri Lanka were all out for 101 in 18.4 overs and the riotous celebrations began. A harsher critic might say that the Lankans bottled it, but it was tough not to feel for Jayawardene when he resigned his captaincy soon afterward; rarely do cricketers come classier than him and, up until Sunday, his team were arguably the best allround side on display throughout the competition.
But nowhere is the spirit of carpe diem more important than in T20, and in a game where moments prove decisive and a well-timed runout or booming six into the stands can turn the game, the Windies seized every opportunity as the Sri Lankans faltered.
While it’s premature to talk about a new dynasty in West Indies cricket, boy was this victory great to see. Marlon Samuels’ continued rise in stature and maturity will come as no surprise to those who saw him in England earlier this year, and Darren Sammy may be a cricketer of limited talent but has proved an inspirational captain, truly the raising-agent in the West Indies’ recipe for success. Both men spoke from the heart in the post-match presentation about how much the victory meant to them, Samuels almost defiant in his jubilation. “We will celebrate as long as possible and enjoy the moment. This is a moment to cherish, and cherish forever. The entire Caribbean embraces it. The sky is the limit and words can’t really explain it. It means the world to us.” Perhaps most encouragingly, he added, “We want to be on top, even in Test cricket, as Test cricket is the best.” While that will take some leap, and considerable domestic and administrative reorganization for that to happen, what is most important is that this is a team that now knows it can win. It has started to believe.
I have to say I enjoyed this year’s World Twenty20. Reservations about the format remain, and while the concerns of the administrators of Associate nations who want their sides to face Full Member opposition more often remain valid – how else are they to improve? – the fact the “minnows” failed to punch above their weight will, sadly, have provided ammunition to those who are against an expanded format. But set against the interminable 50-over version, this was a short, sharp, enjoyable tournament with cricket of high quality. The likes of Chris Gayle, Shane Watson, Ajantha Mendis and Virat Kohli displayed superlative skill and gave us great entertainment.
England, on the other hand, failed to get the pulse racing, with a campaign that, with the exception of their victories over Afghanistan and New Zealand, careened from the merely lacklustre to the downright clueless. Over the last few months, team England has started to resemble a punctured tyre with the air slowly leaking from it; with the absence of Kevin Pietersen their stumbling route to the exit proved a flat affair indeed. Andy Flower tried a few different patches to slow the bleeding, but it all smacked of desperation. Samit Patel, dropped for the New Zealand game because he’d been tonked round the park by Chris Gayle in the previous match and gone for 38 runs, was replaced by slow left-armer Danny Briggs, who ended up being tonked around the park by James Franklin to the tune of 36 runs; Patel, brought back for the match against Sri Lanka, ironically proved to be England’s standout batsman with a fine knock of 67. Equally baffling was the selection of Ravi Bopara who, chronically down on confidence and runs, couldn’t get back to the pavilion fast enough when he was bowled by Jeevan Mendis. Sadly, that ill-timed call-up may have torpedoed his international career for good.
Lasith Malinga was magnificent in that match, putting paid to criticisms that he’s lost his nip, but it was England’s woefulness against spin that had fans tearing their hair out in despair, especially looking ahead to the winter tour to India. The matches against Sri Lanka and India showed England at their very worst: an inexperienced batting lineup unsure whether to defend or hit out in a display akin to a headless chicken running erratically around a farmyard while its executioner calmly waits for it to exsanguinate.
Pietersen impressed as a pundit in the ESPN studios when he should have been playing. It’s hoped he’ll be added to the squad for India, but this is dependent on the results of a “process of reintegration” he must complete before he is welcomed back into the fold. After boggling at the bizarre nature of the press conference in which ECB chairman Giles Clarke compared Pietersen to a criminal being reintroduced back into society – this from an organization all too quick to jump into bed with a crooked Texan billionaire – I was wondering exactly what this process might entail. My eyebrows having been further raised by David Collier’s comment that South Africa “provoked” Pietersen into sending the texts that saw him dropped for the Lord’s Test, it’s not much of an exaggeration to say they fair leapt off my forehead when I read in this week’s edition of The Cricket Paper that Pietersen, currently in South Africa for the Champions League T20, “is set to remain with the Delhi Daredevils for as long as they continue in the tournament, but he is also expected to undertake a potentially exhausting series of long-haul flights to and from the UK, in order to try and make peace with players on an individual basis, possibly with the aid of a ‘trained disputes mediator’.”
One of Pietersen’s supporters through all of this has been Chris Gayle, back destroying bowlers on the world stage after a bitter rift between himself and the West Indies Cricket Board. The Windies are a better side with Gayle in it. England, similarly, are a better side when Kevin Pietersen goes out to bat for them. Surely, it’s time now to move on from all this nonsense.