"He died doing what he loved."
It's funny how often you hear that, as if in some way it mitigates the tragedy of an untimely, unforeseen, senseless death. Surely it only makes the thing more tragic? If someone died doing something they hated then at least there would be mitigation in them not having to do it any more. So we must reject that idea. Phillip Hughes' death is an unmitigated tragedy. And it is a tragedy on many levels.
There is the level on which we can all relate. The human one. This was after all a life cut off in its prime. It has left families and friends distraught, a part of themselves lost forever. And in the cruel warping of nature's cycle of life it has left parents to bury their own child. Amongst all the inevitable talk and speculation, of which I am now going to add, we should never let this be forgotten.
There is a particular tragedy in the premature deaths of sports people. They are not usually our friends, nor even acquaintances but as fans we can develop, well fanatical attachments. Often we have watched them or noted their names from a young age, fifteen or sixteen, sometimes younger. There is something of the talent scout in all of us, we like to talk about the young lad we saw in the nets when he was eleven, the next Sachin we confidently and erroneously predict. And once we have identified them we like to stick with them, see where the story leads, smugly celebrating their successes and cursing their inevitable failures. We don't know whether they will make it but now we have invested in their lives we want to see how the story ends. But for Phil Hughes we never shall. And it is particularly sad because his story was a fascinating one. Brought up in a small, rural town, he batted as you might expect - with freedom, freshness and scant regard for urban convention. And then it became a bit of a struggle; the city slickers worked him out, and he disappeared back into the crowd. But he wouldn't go away, and significantly, many good judges continued to believe in him. Whether they were right or not we will now never know. We have been denied the end of the story and that's not supposed to happen. Whether you believe in an afterlife or not, it is hard not to imagine him looking down on us, aghast, that rather than proving his critics wrong, he
had, in his final moments, added grist to their mill. It was a cruel and undeserved end.
And then there is the wider tragedy. I have a sense that cricket has finally, truly lost its innocence. Let's be honest we all thought this had happened a long time ago - match fixing (18th century style), Bodyline, World Series Cricket, sledging, match fixing (21st century style), IPL cheerleaders - but we were wrong, these were just trivial events, situations to be managed or glossed over. What's that they say when people start taking sport too seriously? "Calm down, nobody died". Well they were right. They were right then and they are right now. Someone has died and we can't calm down and we shouldn't. As much as we want too, we can't just brush this under the carpet and carry on as before. It's the last thing we want to do but we have to face up to this.
In some sports such as motorsport or boxing danger is front and centre, it is integral. In cricket it is no more than incidental. It's a hard game sure, requiring courage every bit as much as skill to succeed, but dangerous? It's not really a word we use is it? And yet we should, at least we shouldn't shy away from it. You know what might be the strangest aspect of this horrible incident? That when it comes to the game we love, suddenly it looks as if our fussing mums knew the truth better than we did. If they could see it, why couldn't we?
In recent years we have seen more and more Test cricketers get hit on the head and yet not one of us worried. They rubbed their heads, sometimes they changed their helmet, at worst they got a broken nose. Injuries, they're part of sport aren't they? He's got a helmet on, he'll be fine. We were blind, wilfully blind. We trusted in these helmets as if they were lucky totems - beyond all rational reason. We saw the consequences - the hits, the cuts and bruises, the momentary losses of equilibrium but we didn't see, or we didn't want to see the danger. And when I say we, I don't just mean "us" the spectators, the supporters, the commentators, I mean "them" too, the players, especially the players. They thought they were indestructible. It's not that they don't know how to avoid these deliveries, it's not that they aren't taught properly, they are. They know they should get their head inside or outside the line or under the ball, but they don't or they didn't know why. They were blind, wilfully blind. And it has cost Phil Hughes his life. His blindness, all our blindness. But we can claim blindness no longer.
It is worth reiterating, that this wasn't just any old cricketer, this was Phil Hughes. He was a Test match batsman. This wasn't a club match, this wasn't a weekend grade cricketer, this wasn't even a hapless tailender pummelled mercilessly from around the wicket. Not getting hit by a cricket ball was Phil Hughes' job and of the 7 billion or so people on this planet he was considered one of the very best at it. And he was killed. He was killed.
I don't know how this will change cricket, I just know that it will. It is of course right to urge against rushes to judgment, although where the ICC is concerned this is hardly a real concern. Can we make helmets safer? Of course we can. Can we make helmets safer to the point where there is no significant risk of this happening again? Probably. But can we make helmets safer to the point where there is no significant risk of this happening against whilst at the same time ensuring that that batsman retain the same freedom of movement and sensory perception? The answer is probably not and if this is the case then some tough decisions will have to be made and we may not like them.
One place where the word "dangerous" does actually appear is in Law 42.6 (a)(1). It states:
(a) Bowling of fast short pitched balls
(i) The bowling of fast
short pitched balls is dangerous and unfair if the bowler’s end umpire
considers that by their repetition and taking into account their length,
height and direction they are likely to inflict physical injury on the
striker irrespective of the protective equipment he may be wearing. The
relative skill of the striker shall be taken into consideration.
From a legal standpoint I have always found this a strangely worded clause. It implies that the frequency of the short pitched bowling should be taken into account in considering danger. Why? Do we wait for a bowler to deliver a third or a fourth beamer before considering the batsman to be in danger? And conversely if the delivery is designed to gain the batsman's wicket why should the bowler be limited in such a way.
Of course my mistake is to read this as a legal clause, it is not. It is a deliberately broad and inexactly worded guideline designed to give umpires a degree of authority in managing the game. A rough translation would be that "bowlers do not have carte blanche to bowl as many short balls as they wish at batsmen of limited ability". We can imply no stronger message than that.
The problem is that the cat is now out of the bag. We now know what "dangerous" means, it means potentially fatal. And as such this clause can no longer be taken so lightly. We can wish that the law of the land stops at the touchline or the boundary edge but increasingly it does not. How will this affect umpires? Do they not owe a duty of care to each and every player, just as a rugby referee does? What about the captain? These are questions we don't want to hear, but we cannot avoid them. Putting our heads in the sand, whether wearing helmets or not, is no longer an option.
We should also not forget one more tragedy, one more victim. A living one. Mike Atherton wrote on Tuesday about Peter Lever's struggles after nearly killing Ewan Chatfield. It seems hard to imagine Sean Abbott playing again this season, and you have to wonder whether he will ever play again. Whilst we can and should honour and remember Phil Hughes, Sean Abbott needs our support.
Friday, 28 November 2014
Thursday, 5 June 2014
Sri Lanka may regret poking these dozy lions
This sudden outrage about Sachithra Senanayake has got me deeply confused. Not only has it been established that it was within the laws but he is not even the first 'culprit' - there are numerous precedents throughout the history of the game and many recent ones. (Incidentally it is perhaps not a coincidence that many of the recent incidents involve the same sort of bowler, perhaps something to do with that exaggerated pause at the moment of delivery?) Why this sudden backlash? In essence, as has been repeated ad nauseum the argument comes down to whether it is in the spirit of the game. Here there is little agreement. One argument is that it is an innovation and brings an extra dimension to the game. Cricket is famous for its innovators even if those brave souls were not always appreciated in their own lifetimes. At the same time, having watched a myriad of replays from the stump cam to blimp in "super slow-mo" and in "real time" it really doesn't look good. It doesn't feel as if it should be allowed. And that is perhaps as good or at least as clear a definition of "the spirit of cricket" as any. No doubt we can expect a response from the ICC in six to nine months. Anyway that is enough about bowling actions for the time being.
A word on the Mankadding incident. Jos Buttler is an exceptionally talented prat. Just as Ian Bell was a wonderfully gifted chump three years ago at Trent Bridge when he made a dash for an early tea. Ethically grey areas or not, both deserved to be given out if only for doziness. Any comments relating to young, impressionable minds should be directed chiefly at aspiring batsmen.
The answer to why of the two only Buttler's innings was terminated may simply lie in their differing opponents. Whilst Indians may be "soft" in such matters, at least according to Virender Sehwag, as Vic Marks has noted you could never say that about Sri Lanka. Not now, not ever.
Whether Sri Lanka were more irked by the umpire's report on Senanayake's action or by Buttler's brutal assault at Lord's is hard to gauge but their response has added further spice to the upcoming Test series. Just as in Australia, Alistair Cook has attempted to plant the Cross of St. George firmly in the moral high ground. It seems no more justified here than it was then. Nevertheless provocative gestures have been known to backfire on touring teams in the past and whilst it is unlikely that either side will find themselves "grovelling" come the end June, Sri Lanka may yet come to rue poking these dozy lions.
All this is not to say that Moen Ali is not a candidate for the number six position purely on batting merit. But here Matt Prior is key. If Prior plays a slight risk can be taken with a new cap at six, if he doesn't it leaves a long tail albeit one more than capable of wagging. That tail would have been shortened considerably had the option of Josh Buttler not been ruled out. I was surprised by Cook's startlingly frank assessment that he is not yet ready as either at batsman or keeper. It seems overly simplistic. His keeping needs work but so did Prior's when he started and so did (does!) Bairstow's when he took over Down Under. As a short term replacement whilst Prior regains fitness it is worth the gamble. As for Buttler's batting well he may not be ready for a place in the top six but a combination of himself at Ben Stokes at 7 and 8 would be formidable. England, it seems, have other ideas.
A word on the Mankadding incident. Jos Buttler is an exceptionally talented prat. Just as Ian Bell was a wonderfully gifted chump three years ago at Trent Bridge when he made a dash for an early tea. Ethically grey areas or not, both deserved to be given out if only for doziness. Any comments relating to young, impressionable minds should be directed chiefly at aspiring batsmen.
The answer to why of the two only Buttler's innings was terminated may simply lie in their differing opponents. Whilst Indians may be "soft" in such matters, at least according to Virender Sehwag, as Vic Marks has noted you could never say that about Sri Lanka. Not now, not ever.
Whether Sri Lanka were more irked by the umpire's report on Senanayake's action or by Buttler's brutal assault at Lord's is hard to gauge but their response has added further spice to the upcoming Test series. Just as in Australia, Alistair Cook has attempted to plant the Cross of St. George firmly in the moral high ground. It seems no more justified here than it was then. Nevertheless provocative gestures have been known to backfire on touring teams in the past and whilst it is unlikely that either side will find themselves "grovelling" come the end June, Sri Lanka may yet come to rue poking these dozy lions.
***********************************************
Whilst Sri Lanka have a choice amongst three specialist spinners to leave out for next week's match, England seem set to ignore Monty Panesar their sole credible candidate. Instead they seem intent on choosing a spinning all-rounder, or rather a batsmen who tweaks. It would be yet another triumph for hope over experience. If Panesar can't tie up an end as Graeme Swann once did, what makes anyone think Moen Ali or Samit Patel will be able to, especially against a batting line up stronger than Australia's. Presuming on the fitness of Ben Stokes, England will play four seamers rather than the three of the Swann era, surely Joe Root can fill in if needed?All this is not to say that Moen Ali is not a candidate for the number six position purely on batting merit. But here Matt Prior is key. If Prior plays a slight risk can be taken with a new cap at six, if he doesn't it leaves a long tail albeit one more than capable of wagging. That tail would have been shortened considerably had the option of Josh Buttler not been ruled out. I was surprised by Cook's startlingly frank assessment that he is not yet ready as either at batsman or keeper. It seems overly simplistic. His keeping needs work but so did Prior's when he started and so did (does!) Bairstow's when he took over Down Under. As a short term replacement whilst Prior regains fitness it is worth the gamble. As for Buttler's batting well he may not be ready for a place in the top six but a combination of himself at Ben Stokes at 7 and 8 would be formidable. England, it seems, have other ideas.
Wednesday, 4 June 2014
A big blast from the past
Nostalgia maybe a dangerous and unreliable mistress
but that doesn't mean some things really weren't better in the
past. One-day internationals for instance.
From 2000 the ECB decided that the one-day international series should follow the first Test series of the summer rather than precede it as previously. In doing so they brought to an end those joyously irreverent and irrelevant three match series sponsored by Texaco which heralded the start of the international season. Irrelevant but from the fan's perspective, not pointless. On the contrary they gave you the chance to get your head around new fielding regulations, your eyes around new TV graphics and and your tongue around Sri Lankan surnames. They were the appetite-whetters, the sneaky 11.30 sausage roll before the main lunch. By the time the Tests arrived you were properly hungry.
Aside from giving England's fringe players a chance to press their Test claims - an opportunity seized this week with uncommon relish by Josh Buttler - they were also a low pressure start for the visiting teams, most still contending with chilled fingers and frozen footwork. From 2000 all this changed and opponents were thrust into the frays of cricket's most demanding format when pitches were still the colour of a dollar bill. Objectively, the results have not been pretty. In the 37 Tests played in the May-early June slot, England won 26 and lost 2 with their last defeat being in 2006 (by contrast in high summer they won 29 and lost 16 of 59 Tests). There have been few good contests. You can point to the quality of opposition - Zimbabwe (2), Bangladesh (2), New Zealand (3), West Indies (3), Sri Lanka (3) and Pakistan (1) - but that doesn't change the point, in fact it reinforces it. These matches were afterthoughts or in the case of the opposition no thought or real respect at all.
Much is made of the legitimacy of home team pitch preparation, but if you schedule a Test for mid-May you know what you are likely to get - Headingley in the 80's. I remember watching the Bangladesh openers shuffle out in long sleeved sweaters with collars raised and wondering why the selectors didn't give Jimmy Anderson and Steven Finn a bit more time off and just bring back Steve Watkin and Neil Mallender. Aside from giving Anderson the chance to get that average below 30 (an increasingly desperate quest), it served little objective purpose.
So bravo ECB, even if a two match series is not ideal this season's international schedule is still the best from a cricketing perspective for some time. Anderson and Broad versus Sangakkara and Jayawardene in mid-June on a fair pitch should provide for a terrific contest, every bit as good, if not as commercially profitable, as the India series that follows.
Of course when I speak of a return to the days of the Texaco Trophy, the similarities really start and finish with scheduling. Back then coloured clothes, white balls and black sightscreens were still something strictly antipodean, whilst Duckworth and Lewis were just the solicitors down the road.
More importantly, you could write the playing conditions on the back of a beer mat. Today you need an instruction manual and a calculator, or an app. Back then captains' minds were focused solely on field placing and bowling changes, there were no power-plays or such like to worry about. But does this matter? No, of course it doesn't, not if the product is better as a result. But here is where my problem lies. It is palpably worse.
One-day cricket is like nature: the more you try to manipulate it, the more it resists and mutates. I'm no free market libertarian but forty odd years of regulation has proved only one thing, it is not the answer. In particular the obsession with the "problem overs" between 15 and 40, has never come close to being solved. A better question was why it needed solving in the first place.
In fact the problem has already been solved. You get rid of them, because that is effectively what T20 is, one-day games without the "boring bit". I'm not a fan of the format, but like Test cricket it is an honest product. The ingredients are written in big letters on the front of the package - if you don't like it, don't buy it. One-day internationals are no longer honest. They would have you believe they are the cool kid's elder brother: same smile, better car. The problem is that car is a Prius and, even if they are wrong, people don't think a Prius is cool. So what to do?
The answer is to stop trying to be cool and start being serious. Once again to go forward we need to look back. Growing up the Natwest Trophy was my favourite format. For one simple reason, I could go down to Old Trafford and watch an entire game of proper cricket in one day. Even then, with long school holidays, I didn't have time to go to an entire Championship match but the Natwest was the next best thing. Batsmen played themselves in, seamers bowled to more than one slip, sweepers were optional. It was never formulaic cricket.
I'm not suggesting a revival of the format, but of it's spirit. For example the 60 overs that encompassed a Natwest innings (the first World Cup was actually 65 a side) is not only too long, for the players in particular, but unnecessary. Test match scoring rates have increased almost as much as over rates have fallen. 50 overs would be plenty. The 60 over competition also had minimal fielding restrictions: 4 men inside the circle, a maximum of six on the leg side. I would remove every single non Test match playing condition bar one - leg side wides, but even these could be granted a more liberal interpretation than we currently see. By doing so creativity and original thinking would be encouraged rather than stifled. In essence it could do for the mental side of Test cricket what T20 has done for the physical.
We already see such creativity from captains like Michael Clarke and MS Dhoni. Without the shackles of the playing conditions, the possiblities are endless. Undoubtedly the first few games would draw out some anomalies as teams grapple with this new found freedom but so what? Nine, ten fielders on the boundary? Maybe, but six twos is still twelve an over. Eight on the leg side? Don't get your line wrong...
I ask you, what would Shane Warne have come up with given such licence?
From 2000 the ECB decided that the one-day international series should follow the first Test series of the summer rather than precede it as previously. In doing so they brought to an end those joyously irreverent and irrelevant three match series sponsored by Texaco which heralded the start of the international season. Irrelevant but from the fan's perspective, not pointless. On the contrary they gave you the chance to get your head around new fielding regulations, your eyes around new TV graphics and and your tongue around Sri Lankan surnames. They were the appetite-whetters, the sneaky 11.30 sausage roll before the main lunch. By the time the Tests arrived you were properly hungry.
Aside from giving England's fringe players a chance to press their Test claims - an opportunity seized this week with uncommon relish by Josh Buttler - they were also a low pressure start for the visiting teams, most still contending with chilled fingers and frozen footwork. From 2000 all this changed and opponents were thrust into the frays of cricket's most demanding format when pitches were still the colour of a dollar bill. Objectively, the results have not been pretty. In the 37 Tests played in the May-early June slot, England won 26 and lost 2 with their last defeat being in 2006 (by contrast in high summer they won 29 and lost 16 of 59 Tests). There have been few good contests. You can point to the quality of opposition - Zimbabwe (2), Bangladesh (2), New Zealand (3), West Indies (3), Sri Lanka (3) and Pakistan (1) - but that doesn't change the point, in fact it reinforces it. These matches were afterthoughts or in the case of the opposition no thought or real respect at all.
Much is made of the legitimacy of home team pitch preparation, but if you schedule a Test for mid-May you know what you are likely to get - Headingley in the 80's. I remember watching the Bangladesh openers shuffle out in long sleeved sweaters with collars raised and wondering why the selectors didn't give Jimmy Anderson and Steven Finn a bit more time off and just bring back Steve Watkin and Neil Mallender. Aside from giving Anderson the chance to get that average below 30 (an increasingly desperate quest), it served little objective purpose.
So bravo ECB, even if a two match series is not ideal this season's international schedule is still the best from a cricketing perspective for some time. Anderson and Broad versus Sangakkara and Jayawardene in mid-June on a fair pitch should provide for a terrific contest, every bit as good, if not as commercially profitable, as the India series that follows.
Of course when I speak of a return to the days of the Texaco Trophy, the similarities really start and finish with scheduling. Back then coloured clothes, white balls and black sightscreens were still something strictly antipodean, whilst Duckworth and Lewis were just the solicitors down the road.
More importantly, you could write the playing conditions on the back of a beer mat. Today you need an instruction manual and a calculator, or an app. Back then captains' minds were focused solely on field placing and bowling changes, there were no power-plays or such like to worry about. But does this matter? No, of course it doesn't, not if the product is better as a result. But here is where my problem lies. It is palpably worse.
One-day cricket is like nature: the more you try to manipulate it, the more it resists and mutates. I'm no free market libertarian but forty odd years of regulation has proved only one thing, it is not the answer. In particular the obsession with the "problem overs" between 15 and 40, has never come close to being solved. A better question was why it needed solving in the first place.
In fact the problem has already been solved. You get rid of them, because that is effectively what T20 is, one-day games without the "boring bit". I'm not a fan of the format, but like Test cricket it is an honest product. The ingredients are written in big letters on the front of the package - if you don't like it, don't buy it. One-day internationals are no longer honest. They would have you believe they are the cool kid's elder brother: same smile, better car. The problem is that car is a Prius and, even if they are wrong, people don't think a Prius is cool. So what to do?
The answer is to stop trying to be cool and start being serious. Once again to go forward we need to look back. Growing up the Natwest Trophy was my favourite format. For one simple reason, I could go down to Old Trafford and watch an entire game of proper cricket in one day. Even then, with long school holidays, I didn't have time to go to an entire Championship match but the Natwest was the next best thing. Batsmen played themselves in, seamers bowled to more than one slip, sweepers were optional. It was never formulaic cricket.
I'm not suggesting a revival of the format, but of it's spirit. For example the 60 overs that encompassed a Natwest innings (the first World Cup was actually 65 a side) is not only too long, for the players in particular, but unnecessary. Test match scoring rates have increased almost as much as over rates have fallen. 50 overs would be plenty. The 60 over competition also had minimal fielding restrictions: 4 men inside the circle, a maximum of six on the leg side. I would remove every single non Test match playing condition bar one - leg side wides, but even these could be granted a more liberal interpretation than we currently see. By doing so creativity and original thinking would be encouraged rather than stifled. In essence it could do for the mental side of Test cricket what T20 has done for the physical.
We already see such creativity from captains like Michael Clarke and MS Dhoni. Without the shackles of the playing conditions, the possiblities are endless. Undoubtedly the first few games would draw out some anomalies as teams grapple with this new found freedom but so what? Nine, ten fielders on the boundary? Maybe, but six twos is still twelve an over. Eight on the leg side? Don't get your line wrong...
I ask you, what would Shane Warne have come up with given such licence?
Tuesday, 12 June 2012
Mystery spinner? It's all in the mind, the batsman's that is..
It was always going to be an impossible task. After a handful of first-class matches and one season of IPL, how could we reasonably expect anything special on a Test debut? A debut made against one of the strongest batting line-ups and in conditions which could not be more different to those of Trinidad, the West Indies as a whole or even India. And yet it was impossible not to feel disappointed, maybe even a touch let down, as Kevin Pietersen laid into Sunil Narine's increasingly friendly offerings on Sunday afternoon.
Why should we take it personally? Maybe its because in this age of cynicism the opportunities to dream, to experience awe and wonder seem increasingly fleeting. Perhaps it's why the lure of a great magician remains, even if they must come up with ever greater illusions to grab and retain our attentions. Put simply, people still love a good mystery and in cricket that means spinners.
But a good mystery requires that the intrigue endures. And unless you are a fan of Columbo that means not finding out who did it in the opening scene. On Sunday, it seemed that Narine had been arrested, charged and was awaiting sentencing even before Nick Knight in the Sky box had time to begin his prosecution-by-video. Given that Narine's unveiler was Pietersen, a man who singularly and admittedly failed to solve the riddle of Saeed Ajmal, this was more the equivalent of being caught by PC Plod than Hercule Poirot.
The term "mystery spinner" may not have been coined by Gideon Haigh but it was best and most appropriately used as the title of his wonderful biography of Jack Iverson. Everything about Iverson was a mystery, sometimes even to himself. Deeply insecure about his own special talent, he continually fretted that he had been "found out". Whether this was objectively true of Iverson is another question but Narine's inauspicious debut brings to mind Ajantha Mendis, widely considered to have been "found out" after a promising beginning.
Both Narine and Mendis bowl a "carrom" ball, as nominally did Iverson (although Haigh's description suggests that his huge hands created altogether more vigorous spin) and both have enjoyed success in T20 cricket on the sub-continent. But under polar opposite circumstances, a Test match in England, they have looked anything but mysterious.
Whilst Mendis has currently faded from view, that is not necessarily the fate that awaits Narine. For one thing they are actually quite different bowlers despite their signature deliveries. Mendis' bowling relies on a number of subtle variations and great accuracy. Big turn was never his thing. Narine by contrast is less accurate but really spins it. In a spell littered with short deliveries he extracted more turn with his stock off-break than Graeme Swann had done earlier in the day. And whilst his carrom ball may not have turned at Edgbaston, it only takes a couple of clicks to find evidence of it doing so, and sharply at that. Accuracy can be worked on, the ability to spin the ball hard is talent.
But what about the mystery? Once lost can it ever be regained? If we are talking mechanics, then in the age of video analysis, prolonged mystery is tough to achieve (although Ajmal is giving it a good shot). But mystery is more than mechanics and so is spin bowling. Although never referred to as such, Shane Warne is the greatest mystery spinner the world has ever known. He understood that mystery or deception, which is what we are really talking about, isn't found merely in the act of delivery but can be created anywhere and at anytime. In fact most of Warne's mystery wasn't even created on the pitch but in television interviews and press conferences, sowing the seeds of doubt in batsmen' with claims of new deliveries. He then used his natural talent to compound and reinforce these doubts on the field.
Sunil Narine is no Warne but the lesson remains the same. If he can instill doubt in a batsman's mind and keep it there his mystery will never be solved.
Why should we take it personally? Maybe its because in this age of cynicism the opportunities to dream, to experience awe and wonder seem increasingly fleeting. Perhaps it's why the lure of a great magician remains, even if they must come up with ever greater illusions to grab and retain our attentions. Put simply, people still love a good mystery and in cricket that means spinners.
But a good mystery requires that the intrigue endures. And unless you are a fan of Columbo that means not finding out who did it in the opening scene. On Sunday, it seemed that Narine had been arrested, charged and was awaiting sentencing even before Nick Knight in the Sky box had time to begin his prosecution-by-video. Given that Narine's unveiler was Pietersen, a man who singularly and admittedly failed to solve the riddle of Saeed Ajmal, this was more the equivalent of being caught by PC Plod than Hercule Poirot.
The term "mystery spinner" may not have been coined by Gideon Haigh but it was best and most appropriately used as the title of his wonderful biography of Jack Iverson. Everything about Iverson was a mystery, sometimes even to himself. Deeply insecure about his own special talent, he continually fretted that he had been "found out". Whether this was objectively true of Iverson is another question but Narine's inauspicious debut brings to mind Ajantha Mendis, widely considered to have been "found out" after a promising beginning.
Both Narine and Mendis bowl a "carrom" ball, as nominally did Iverson (although Haigh's description suggests that his huge hands created altogether more vigorous spin) and both have enjoyed success in T20 cricket on the sub-continent. But under polar opposite circumstances, a Test match in England, they have looked anything but mysterious.
Whilst Mendis has currently faded from view, that is not necessarily the fate that awaits Narine. For one thing they are actually quite different bowlers despite their signature deliveries. Mendis' bowling relies on a number of subtle variations and great accuracy. Big turn was never his thing. Narine by contrast is less accurate but really spins it. In a spell littered with short deliveries he extracted more turn with his stock off-break than Graeme Swann had done earlier in the day. And whilst his carrom ball may not have turned at Edgbaston, it only takes a couple of clicks to find evidence of it doing so, and sharply at that. Accuracy can be worked on, the ability to spin the ball hard is talent.
But what about the mystery? Once lost can it ever be regained? If we are talking mechanics, then in the age of video analysis, prolonged mystery is tough to achieve (although Ajmal is giving it a good shot). But mystery is more than mechanics and so is spin bowling. Although never referred to as such, Shane Warne is the greatest mystery spinner the world has ever known. He understood that mystery or deception, which is what we are really talking about, isn't found merely in the act of delivery but can be created anywhere and at anytime. In fact most of Warne's mystery wasn't even created on the pitch but in television interviews and press conferences, sowing the seeds of doubt in batsmen' with claims of new deliveries. He then used his natural talent to compound and reinforce these doubts on the field.
Sunil Narine is no Warne but the lesson remains the same. If he can instill doubt in a batsman's mind and keep it there his mystery will never be solved.
Wednesday, 6 June 2012
Are central contracts up to the Test?
In the Times last Thursday Mike Atherton argued, that "the whole point of central contracts is to ensure that England's premier bowlers are fit and ready for every Test match." A clear prioritisation of Test cricket therefore and one for which he believes we should be unapologetic.
Pretty logical I would have thought and entirely fitting with the basis on which the whole expensive idea was sold in the first place. Not only that but with the team ranked number one in the world and with a seventh consecutive home series victory assured, these central contracts have clearly worked.
But as Atherton was perhaps gently implying, does this prioritisation of Test cricket over other international cricket actually exist or more accurately does it still exist? The possibility of England's new ball attack being rested for the last West Indies Test leaves this open to question.
The two cases concerned tell different tales. The first, that of James Anderson, is the more nuanced and thus the more easily defendable from a selectorial viewpoint. Anderson apparently has a niggling thigh injury. According to national selector Geoff Miller, the rest would give Anderson the chance to "overcome several minor injuries" and was "in the best interest of the team and James himself". Now for all I know the selector's have received medical advice that, at the very least, suggests that bowling another 50 or 60 overs would risk aggravating the injury(ies) and risk Anderson's missing the first Test against South Africa on 19 July. If so then fair enough, it is good, professional player management. In last summer's blue riband series, India went into the series with a half fit opening bowler, he took three wickets in the first morning and then hobbled off never to return. We know what happened next. England do not want to make the same mistake.
Anderson, however, seems less than convinced. He claims to be suffering from neither fatigue nor injury. On the contrary he has declared himself fit to play. Now no player wants to miss a Test match or indeed any international match and so player estimations of their own health must be taken with a pinch of salt. But Anderson is no fool. As has been suggested, somewhat ungenerously, he may have regarded the Third Test as an opportunity to pick up some cheap wickets ahead of bigger challenges, but in fact like all top sportsmen it is for the biggest challenges that he plays the game. The South African series will be only a fraction down on the itensity of an Ashes series and more than a fraction up in terms of quality. Is he likely to risk missing that? One thing's for sure, in terms of preparation he is no Zaheer Khan.
The second and more troubling case is of Stuart Broad, for whom no such injury concerns have been expressed. He is in the twelve man squad but remains an uncertain starter. It is not in debate that Broad (and indeed Anderson) has a busy period of cricket between now and the first South African Test - eight ODIs and one T20 to be precise - but how can that possible justify resting a fully fit bowler who has already been forced to miss one Test match this year through injury? If he is fit, surely he must play.
But listening to England's Head Coach it seems increasingly likely that Broad will not play. In fact Andy Flower has put forward a strong defence of the policy of rest and rotation. One, however, that dispels any myth of the absolute primacy of Test cricket. "We came into this series with one goal and that was to win the series," Flower said. "We've achieved that goal so our priorities do shift. I'm not intending to demean the importance of this Test but, since we won the series already, our priority on the Test front does now shift to the South Africa series. There is also a slight shift to the West Indies one-day series because that series stands at 0-0. We haven't won that series, we've won this one. Part of our decision making is based around those reasons"
He may not intend to demean the importance of this Test but he does. No matter how superficially attractive some of his arguments may seem (there is merit in his desire to increase the "pool" of fast bowlers as well as in his observation that the selection of Finn and Onions would hardly weaken the team) they just don't stack up. In particular, rationalising the decision in the light of the South Africa series does not wash. If priority had truly shifted to that series then Ravi Bopara, who will surely take Jonny Bairstow's place then, should have played now. But instead Bairstow is rightly retained.
Referencing resting and rotational practices in other sports does not work either. For one thing, in no other national team sport in the UK is the management granted complete control over their players. With centrally contracted players playing virtually no county cricket these days, and with rest and rotation already being exercised in ODIs, do players' workloads still need further "managing"?
If the answer is yes it can mean only one of two things: that this summer's schedule is grossly overloaded or that central contracts are not working. I prefer to blame the schedule, not only because the one-day series with Australia is so palpably pointless but because, as much as I try, it is hard to argue with a number one ranking.
Kevin Pietersen's retirement from all one-day cricket has served only to fling further mud into these murky waters. But whatever Pietersen's motivation it should not be overlooked that one of the superstars of the modern game, and a "great" fan of T20, has made a decision designed to keep him playing Test cricket for for the forseeable future. In these uncertain times let us just be happy about that.
Pretty logical I would have thought and entirely fitting with the basis on which the whole expensive idea was sold in the first place. Not only that but with the team ranked number one in the world and with a seventh consecutive home series victory assured, these central contracts have clearly worked.
But as Atherton was perhaps gently implying, does this prioritisation of Test cricket over other international cricket actually exist or more accurately does it still exist? The possibility of England's new ball attack being rested for the last West Indies Test leaves this open to question.
The two cases concerned tell different tales. The first, that of James Anderson, is the more nuanced and thus the more easily defendable from a selectorial viewpoint. Anderson apparently has a niggling thigh injury. According to national selector Geoff Miller, the rest would give Anderson the chance to "overcome several minor injuries" and was "in the best interest of the team and James himself". Now for all I know the selector's have received medical advice that, at the very least, suggests that bowling another 50 or 60 overs would risk aggravating the injury(ies) and risk Anderson's missing the first Test against South Africa on 19 July. If so then fair enough, it is good, professional player management. In last summer's blue riband series, India went into the series with a half fit opening bowler, he took three wickets in the first morning and then hobbled off never to return. We know what happened next. England do not want to make the same mistake.
Anderson, however, seems less than convinced. He claims to be suffering from neither fatigue nor injury. On the contrary he has declared himself fit to play. Now no player wants to miss a Test match or indeed any international match and so player estimations of their own health must be taken with a pinch of salt. But Anderson is no fool. As has been suggested, somewhat ungenerously, he may have regarded the Third Test as an opportunity to pick up some cheap wickets ahead of bigger challenges, but in fact like all top sportsmen it is for the biggest challenges that he plays the game. The South African series will be only a fraction down on the itensity of an Ashes series and more than a fraction up in terms of quality. Is he likely to risk missing that? One thing's for sure, in terms of preparation he is no Zaheer Khan.
The second and more troubling case is of Stuart Broad, for whom no such injury concerns have been expressed. He is in the twelve man squad but remains an uncertain starter. It is not in debate that Broad (and indeed Anderson) has a busy period of cricket between now and the first South African Test - eight ODIs and one T20 to be precise - but how can that possible justify resting a fully fit bowler who has already been forced to miss one Test match this year through injury? If he is fit, surely he must play.
But listening to England's Head Coach it seems increasingly likely that Broad will not play. In fact Andy Flower has put forward a strong defence of the policy of rest and rotation. One, however, that dispels any myth of the absolute primacy of Test cricket. "We came into this series with one goal and that was to win the series," Flower said. "We've achieved that goal so our priorities do shift. I'm not intending to demean the importance of this Test but, since we won the series already, our priority on the Test front does now shift to the South Africa series. There is also a slight shift to the West Indies one-day series because that series stands at 0-0. We haven't won that series, we've won this one. Part of our decision making is based around those reasons"
He may not intend to demean the importance of this Test but he does. No matter how superficially attractive some of his arguments may seem (there is merit in his desire to increase the "pool" of fast bowlers as well as in his observation that the selection of Finn and Onions would hardly weaken the team) they just don't stack up. In particular, rationalising the decision in the light of the South Africa series does not wash. If priority had truly shifted to that series then Ravi Bopara, who will surely take Jonny Bairstow's place then, should have played now. But instead Bairstow is rightly retained.
Referencing resting and rotational practices in other sports does not work either. For one thing, in no other national team sport in the UK is the management granted complete control over their players. With centrally contracted players playing virtually no county cricket these days, and with rest and rotation already being exercised in ODIs, do players' workloads still need further "managing"?
If the answer is yes it can mean only one of two things: that this summer's schedule is grossly overloaded or that central contracts are not working. I prefer to blame the schedule, not only because the one-day series with Australia is so palpably pointless but because, as much as I try, it is hard to argue with a number one ranking.
***************************************************
Kevin Pietersen's retirement from all one-day cricket has served only to fling further mud into these murky waters. But whatever Pietersen's motivation it should not be overlooked that one of the superstars of the modern game, and a "great" fan of T20, has made a decision designed to keep him playing Test cricket for for the forseeable future. In these uncertain times let us just be happy about that.
Sunday, 4 March 2012
Sri Lankan tour is a test of preparation for English guinea pigs
Despite a 3-0 defeat to the world's fifth ranked test team, it was of little surprise that the England squad announced last week shows only one change to their batting line up. For the optimists it's confirmation that the second half of their UAE adventure put to rest many of the doubts raised by the first; for the rest, it is evidence that the selector's had few real options but to continue with the existing group, who, it must be acknowledged, were being feted as world beaters only six months ago.
Although an optimist by nature, I find it hard to see much credibility in the former view. It is less than a month since a cumulative and consistent failure of England's middle order resulted in a 3-0 test series defeat. In the aftermath, the management's attempts to fight spin with spin, so to speak, have failed to deceive.
Noble words and sentiments were expressed by captain and coach about progress made. Firstly between the second and third test and then during the limited overs series. Certainly the batsmen put up a better effort in the last Test, but it was really only Andrew Strauss who made any significant step forward (both literally and metaphorically). Despite employing his legendary work ethic to the problem, Kevin Pietersen never gave off a sign of permanance or comfort at any point of the test series. Ian Bell was much, much worse. Blame was also deflected towards that ever useful batting scapegoat "the scheduling" - too few matches, the wrong sort of cricket, and this time even the length of break between series. Like all the best lies, they convince because they have elements of truth about them, but they are still lies.
The success in the limited over series is also a red herring. Test and limited overs cricket are like apples and oranges - performance in one is a useless guide to likely performance in the other. The personnel are often different and even DRS is applied differently - one review per innings leaves no margin for error and it was noticeable that Misbah was a good deal more cautious in its use. Instead psychological factors, be it the need to atone for test defeat, or the mental disintegration caused by such a defeat (as was the case with India's tour of England) are often more relevant.
In short, this line-up could have netted every day from September to January, flown out a month before, had six practice matches, played the one-dayers before the main event, had Graham Gooch on hand 24/7 and they still wouldn't have been prepared for the Tests and they still would have lost 3-0. And yet they are quality players, so what went wrong and how do they put it right?
Andrew Strauss hit it on the head when acknowledging "it's hard to prepare without facing them". They lost the series because they had no previous experience or opportunity to replicate what they were about to face. It's not just England, virtually no one has faced Saeed Ajmal on low bouncing asian pitches with full, predictive ball-tracking, DRS in effect. In Sri Lanka, England will not be confronted by anyone of Ajmal's special talent, but all the other elements will be present.
In some respects England are guinea pigs for this new DRS reality and so their response will closely regarded by their rivals. We know that Strauss and Bell will travel out a week early to Sri Lanka and Andy Flower has promised that preparation will be different for this tour and that of India later in the year. But is this enough? DRS will not be used in either of the two official practice games, meaning that the players will again enter the First Test without any practice under true match conditions. Its absence is understandable. According to ICC general manager Dave Richardson, it costs $10,000 per day for the use of the cameras and ball tracking technology to operate DRS. A significant cost for international cricket boards, and surely beyond state, provincial or county set ups. And yet, if players only face these conditions in Test matches how are they to train and how are selectors supposed to know whether their techniques will cope?
Much has been made, particularly in England, of the need to replicate international cricket as far as possible at domestic level. Three day games became four for this purpose, two divisions was supposed to raise standards; but without DRS these players are playing a different game. It's a particularly uncomfortable fact because there is no easy solution. In the short term, you could argue that having DRS in place for at least one of those two warm up games may have been as valuable an investment for England as a full time batting coach.
Although an optimist by nature, I find it hard to see much credibility in the former view. It is less than a month since a cumulative and consistent failure of England's middle order resulted in a 3-0 test series defeat. In the aftermath, the management's attempts to fight spin with spin, so to speak, have failed to deceive.
Noble words and sentiments were expressed by captain and coach about progress made. Firstly between the second and third test and then during the limited overs series. Certainly the batsmen put up a better effort in the last Test, but it was really only Andrew Strauss who made any significant step forward (both literally and metaphorically). Despite employing his legendary work ethic to the problem, Kevin Pietersen never gave off a sign of permanance or comfort at any point of the test series. Ian Bell was much, much worse. Blame was also deflected towards that ever useful batting scapegoat "the scheduling" - too few matches, the wrong sort of cricket, and this time even the length of break between series. Like all the best lies, they convince because they have elements of truth about them, but they are still lies.
The success in the limited over series is also a red herring. Test and limited overs cricket are like apples and oranges - performance in one is a useless guide to likely performance in the other. The personnel are often different and even DRS is applied differently - one review per innings leaves no margin for error and it was noticeable that Misbah was a good deal more cautious in its use. Instead psychological factors, be it the need to atone for test defeat, or the mental disintegration caused by such a defeat (as was the case with India's tour of England) are often more relevant.
In short, this line-up could have netted every day from September to January, flown out a month before, had six practice matches, played the one-dayers before the main event, had Graham Gooch on hand 24/7 and they still wouldn't have been prepared for the Tests and they still would have lost 3-0. And yet they are quality players, so what went wrong and how do they put it right?
Andrew Strauss hit it on the head when acknowledging "it's hard to prepare without facing them". They lost the series because they had no previous experience or opportunity to replicate what they were about to face. It's not just England, virtually no one has faced Saeed Ajmal on low bouncing asian pitches with full, predictive ball-tracking, DRS in effect. In Sri Lanka, England will not be confronted by anyone of Ajmal's special talent, but all the other elements will be present.
In some respects England are guinea pigs for this new DRS reality and so their response will closely regarded by their rivals. We know that Strauss and Bell will travel out a week early to Sri Lanka and Andy Flower has promised that preparation will be different for this tour and that of India later in the year. But is this enough? DRS will not be used in either of the two official practice games, meaning that the players will again enter the First Test without any practice under true match conditions. Its absence is understandable. According to ICC general manager Dave Richardson, it costs $10,000 per day for the use of the cameras and ball tracking technology to operate DRS. A significant cost for international cricket boards, and surely beyond state, provincial or county set ups. And yet, if players only face these conditions in Test matches how are they to train and how are selectors supposed to know whether their techniques will cope?
Much has been made, particularly in England, of the need to replicate international cricket as far as possible at domestic level. Three day games became four for this purpose, two divisions was supposed to raise standards; but without DRS these players are playing a different game. It's a particularly uncomfortable fact because there is no easy solution. In the short term, you could argue that having DRS in place for at least one of those two warm up games may have been as valuable an investment for England as a full time batting coach.
Thursday, 2 February 2012
Is cricket ready for Ajmal and his new best friend?
Unless your shoes are covered in red clay from the time you could walk, winning the French Open is likely to be the toughest task in tennis. McEnroe never managed it, Sampras never even made the final and even Federer, regarded by many as the best ever, can count only one victory amongst his 16 Grand Slam titles. Winning a Test series on the sub-continent is cricket's equivalent. It was beyond even Steve Waugh's great Australian side and has proved way beyond the world's current number one team.
The capitulation of the English batting line-up in Abu Dhabi on Saturday made for particularly strange, if compelling, viewing. I had the feeling of witnessing something profound, a changed game. Now of course cricket is always evolving, or indeed revolving, but its essence has always remained the same. Having watched DRS' impact on that last day's play, I am no longer sure.
The general consensus is that the onus remains on the English batsmen. They must sharpen up. On the sub-continent, with DRS, the margin of error is much smaller. They must improve their judgment, particularly of length, and more generally come up with a strategy that will achieve more than just survival. All this being said, has the balance may not have swung back too far in the bowler's favour. Has that margin of error been reduced too much?
The LBW law was first introduced in 1774 for reasons of fairness - to prevent negative pad play. In 1883 the MCC vowed to "discount and prevent this practice by every means in their power". Amended many times, there is now little argument as to its correctness. What has never changed, partly because it is not written down, is the discretion granted to umpires to give the benefit of the doubt. Technology, firstly in the form of the 'landing strip' and then Hawkeye, has however served to reduce this doubt. Umpires, with Darrell Hair very much a pioneer in this regard, have become much more confident in giving batsman out on the front foot, with spinners like Graeme Swann the chief beneificiaries. Nevertheless before DRS, where there was doubt it was still the batsmen who received it. Whilst that benefit remains with the review system, it is the umpire who is now the recipient rather than the batsman - a decision will only be overturned if Hawkeye shows a clear error.
And we are yet to see the full effect of DRS. Even if it has been around several years, it has never been used consistently or uniformly on sub-continental pitches. It was not even used in Pakistan's series victory over Sri Lanka in the UAE less than four months ago. Furthermore in the post Murali/Warne era, even where such conditions have arisen there have been few bowlers skillful enough in terms of accuracy and deception to exploit them fully. In Saeed Ajmal, Pakistan now have such a bowler.
Ajmal is the perfect soldier for a new kind of warfare. Bowling relatively straight to maximise the doosra's effect, Ajmal's subtle and seemingly indicipherable variations have bamboozled the English batsmen. He is not a huge turner of the ball which is to his advantage. LBW is his preferred method of dismissal and for that a bat's width is sufficient - any more than that he risks falling foul of DRS, his new best friend. Eleven of his seventeen wickets in the current series have come in this manner.
In the finest spinning bowling tradition, from William Clarke, to Bosanquet to Warne, Ajmal also uses psychology to throw batsmen off guard - he didn't even coin the phrase 'teesra' (Saqlain Mushtaq did that a few years ago) and certainly there is no clear evidence that he has developed a new ball - which he then backs up with wonderful control to create stiffling pressure and, in the case of England's batsmen, near paralysis. With a batsman's mind so befuddled, a straight ball can be as deadly as viciously turning one, something which has benefited not only Ajmal but his fellow spinners too.
Earlier in the week Mike Atherton suggested that the DRS may actually lead to the teaching of different batting techniques. He was referring to younger players but from an English perspective such remedial work cannot wait till next week let alone until the next generation. As Alistair Cook amongst others has already noted, some techniques, namely those which involve a reliance on pad play, simply do not work any more. With DRS the pad is more a landmine than protective armour.
The solution though is not simple. Much is made of the skill and success of two members of the England coaching team, Andy Flower and Graham Gooch, in playing spin. Both however relied heavily on the sweep shot, a positive tactic which can serve to disrupt a bowler's rhythm. But that was pre DRS. Playing across the line and across your pad is now a very dangerous tactic as Kevin Pietersen has found. Others advise batsmen to use their feet and indeed this can be very effective - both in negating spin and in disrupting a bowler's rhythm. But it is also very dangerous if you don't know which way the ball is spinning and in any case, unlike Graeme Swann, Ajmal tends to bowl quickly and relatively flat making a chassis down the pitch all the more difficult.
In effect for the first time in cricket's history, DRS is ensuring that the lbw law is properly enforced and batsmen, at least the English batsmen, are struggling to adjust. It is initially tempting to view this as a return to the purity of cricket's origin - a simple game of bat and ball. But cricket is not a simple game and the LBW law is perhaps the least simple aspect of it. The law originated when such definitive judgment was inconceivable and my concern is whether such enforcement, particularly on sub continental pitches, ensures a fair balance between bat and ball. The 16 LBWs in the match was the third highest total in 2032 Test matches. Will this become the new norm?
Of course it is far too soon to come to any reasonable judgment on this, and certainly too early to predict a doomsday like scenario. For all we know DRS may lead to the emergence of more bowlers of Saeed Ajmal's skill and not just in the sub-continent. By consequence, more countries may be encouraged to produce pitches that take spin earlier in the game. Can this be a bad thing? From a batting perspective we may also see a revolution in technique and in particular footwork, with batsmen regularly advancing down the pitch, Trumper-like, attempting to impose their own will on the game. Does this not sound like a glorious future? It may be the reality, but it also may not.
The capitulation of the English batting line-up in Abu Dhabi on Saturday made for particularly strange, if compelling, viewing. I had the feeling of witnessing something profound, a changed game. Now of course cricket is always evolving, or indeed revolving, but its essence has always remained the same. Having watched DRS' impact on that last day's play, I am no longer sure.
The general consensus is that the onus remains on the English batsmen. They must sharpen up. On the sub-continent, with DRS, the margin of error is much smaller. They must improve their judgment, particularly of length, and more generally come up with a strategy that will achieve more than just survival. All this being said, has the balance may not have swung back too far in the bowler's favour. Has that margin of error been reduced too much?
The LBW law was first introduced in 1774 for reasons of fairness - to prevent negative pad play. In 1883 the MCC vowed to "discount and prevent this practice by every means in their power". Amended many times, there is now little argument as to its correctness. What has never changed, partly because it is not written down, is the discretion granted to umpires to give the benefit of the doubt. Technology, firstly in the form of the 'landing strip' and then Hawkeye, has however served to reduce this doubt. Umpires, with Darrell Hair very much a pioneer in this regard, have become much more confident in giving batsman out on the front foot, with spinners like Graeme Swann the chief beneificiaries. Nevertheless before DRS, where there was doubt it was still the batsmen who received it. Whilst that benefit remains with the review system, it is the umpire who is now the recipient rather than the batsman - a decision will only be overturned if Hawkeye shows a clear error.
And we are yet to see the full effect of DRS. Even if it has been around several years, it has never been used consistently or uniformly on sub-continental pitches. It was not even used in Pakistan's series victory over Sri Lanka in the UAE less than four months ago. Furthermore in the post Murali/Warne era, even where such conditions have arisen there have been few bowlers skillful enough in terms of accuracy and deception to exploit them fully. In Saeed Ajmal, Pakistan now have such a bowler.
Ajmal is the perfect soldier for a new kind of warfare. Bowling relatively straight to maximise the doosra's effect, Ajmal's subtle and seemingly indicipherable variations have bamboozled the English batsmen. He is not a huge turner of the ball which is to his advantage. LBW is his preferred method of dismissal and for that a bat's width is sufficient - any more than that he risks falling foul of DRS, his new best friend. Eleven of his seventeen wickets in the current series have come in this manner.
In the finest spinning bowling tradition, from William Clarke, to Bosanquet to Warne, Ajmal also uses psychology to throw batsmen off guard - he didn't even coin the phrase 'teesra' (Saqlain Mushtaq did that a few years ago) and certainly there is no clear evidence that he has developed a new ball - which he then backs up with wonderful control to create stiffling pressure and, in the case of England's batsmen, near paralysis. With a batsman's mind so befuddled, a straight ball can be as deadly as viciously turning one, something which has benefited not only Ajmal but his fellow spinners too.
Earlier in the week Mike Atherton suggested that the DRS may actually lead to the teaching of different batting techniques. He was referring to younger players but from an English perspective such remedial work cannot wait till next week let alone until the next generation. As Alistair Cook amongst others has already noted, some techniques, namely those which involve a reliance on pad play, simply do not work any more. With DRS the pad is more a landmine than protective armour.
The solution though is not simple. Much is made of the skill and success of two members of the England coaching team, Andy Flower and Graham Gooch, in playing spin. Both however relied heavily on the sweep shot, a positive tactic which can serve to disrupt a bowler's rhythm. But that was pre DRS. Playing across the line and across your pad is now a very dangerous tactic as Kevin Pietersen has found. Others advise batsmen to use their feet and indeed this can be very effective - both in negating spin and in disrupting a bowler's rhythm. But it is also very dangerous if you don't know which way the ball is spinning and in any case, unlike Graeme Swann, Ajmal tends to bowl quickly and relatively flat making a chassis down the pitch all the more difficult.
In effect for the first time in cricket's history, DRS is ensuring that the lbw law is properly enforced and batsmen, at least the English batsmen, are struggling to adjust. It is initially tempting to view this as a return to the purity of cricket's origin - a simple game of bat and ball. But cricket is not a simple game and the LBW law is perhaps the least simple aspect of it. The law originated when such definitive judgment was inconceivable and my concern is whether such enforcement, particularly on sub continental pitches, ensures a fair balance between bat and ball. The 16 LBWs in the match was the third highest total in 2032 Test matches. Will this become the new norm?
Of course it is far too soon to come to any reasonable judgment on this, and certainly too early to predict a doomsday like scenario. For all we know DRS may lead to the emergence of more bowlers of Saeed Ajmal's skill and not just in the sub-continent. By consequence, more countries may be encouraged to produce pitches that take spin earlier in the game. Can this be a bad thing? From a batting perspective we may also see a revolution in technique and in particular footwork, with batsmen regularly advancing down the pitch, Trumper-like, attempting to impose their own will on the game. Does this not sound like a glorious future? It may be the reality, but it also may not.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)