Samir Chopra wrote eloquently yesterday about his unease at the England team having a bonding session in the cemeteries of Flanders. I share many of his qualms, though not all, and have a few of my own.

One factor which mitigates the gimmickry aspect is that they did gather to lay a tribute at the grave of Charlie Blythe, one of cricket’s near-greats. There is something entirely appropriate about an England team paying collective homage to one of their fallen predecessors.

I can just about see the point of capturing that rite on film for posterity but the rest of the photo coverage was, I firmly agree with Samir, tasteless. The existence of the photographs means that there was an observer who was concentrating on taking pictures rather than paying his own respects to the war dead. And some of the photographs which have been published look posed, which would mean that the subject of the picture was breaking off from contemplating whatever thoughts the rows of gravestones occasioned to make sure that he would look good on camera.

Samir’s point about encouraging these young men to go and visit memorials in their own time is well made, but is there not also a value in a collective experience? I’m with Samir when it comes to visiting war graves as a corporate management training away day, but I suspect he would have no principled objection to a school organising such a trip for 16 of its pupils, and there is an argument that a lot of young professional cricketers are little more than school kids when it comes to life outside sport.

So while I certainly object to the publicity (and am acutely conscious of the hypocrisy involved in even looking at the photos), I am less sure than Samir that the event was flawed in principle.

But Samir appeared to be addressing the issue of war graves in general rather than specifically the First World War graveyards in Flanders, whose significance is now somewhat ambiguous.

Historians argue about the rights and wrongs of WW1 breaking out, but nearly all of them agree that the actual prosecution of the war was a disaster. The armies were commanded by men who had learned soldiering in the days before mechanised heavy artillery, machine guns and air power. The troops who died in their hundreds of thousands on Flanders fields were famously described (on both sides) as lions led by donkeys, who died for no great cause but because their commanders were boneheads unable to adapt to what war demanded of them in 1915 rather than 1885. Many cast their eyes over the endless acres of the Flanders cemeteries and see a monument to the horrifying consequences of human stupidity rather than a tribute to heroism.

If there is an analogue in today’s world of cricket, it’s that the cricketers are the poor bloody infantry being shoved around the world for 7-match ODI series by national boards run by twerps who either think or wish it was 1975, but this seems an unlikely lesson for the ECB to want to instill. But this is to go down the road of making sport comparable with war, and Samir was extremely persuasive on the undesirability of that.

I cannot bring myself to condemn the England management in 2009, nor the Australian management who led their team to WW1 memorials on previous trips: the players who have been have spoken of the humbling and thought-provoking nature of the experiences, and they may well have benefited in wholly laudable ways. But I do still wonder whether they were wise.

	'I don't think sports teams should be using war cemeteries as venues for training' © Getty Images

I come from a military family (more precisely, of air force pilots). Thus, I'm generally inclined to agree with sentiments of recognition directed towards the service of war veterans, the commemoration of the war dead, and more broadly, with a sympathetic take on folks who serve in the military. Still, I would be lying if I did not say that both the Australian team's visit to Gallipoli in 2001, and the English team's visit to Flanders yesterday filled me with some unease.

What bothers me about these trips is the idea that paying a visit to war cemeteries or memorials is a "bonding exercise" for sportsmen about to engage in a major sporting encounter. This notion is deeply problematic on two counts.

First, it encourages a facile identification between sport and war (note, I'm not saying the visits do it - they just encourage it). This identification has already infected sports journalism - what with its language of "sporting battlefields", "fierce battles", "thrashings", "humiliating defeats", "gallant resistance", language that is the stuff of headlines and which often makes me cringe. Some of the borrowing of this language is unavoidable; I'm sure it slips into my blogging as well.
After all, sports is a competitive encounter with winners and losers; war is a "competitive encounter" as well. But there the similarity should end.

The terrible realities of war are a far cry from even the fiercest sporting rivalry. Rick McCosker, broken jaw and all, would be the first one to acknowledge that his "battle" with the English pacemen in the 1977 Centenary Test bore as much resemblance to war as a passing shower bears to a category five hurricane. Given this dissimilarity, it would be nice if all of us could ease up on the "sport is war" analogy-making. It dangerously elevates passions in sport, and it trivializes an activity that is perhaps mankind's most terrible invention. No matter how fierce the 2009 Ashes will be, they are tiddlywinks compared to war. (Cue Keith Miller's comments on pressure here).

Secondly, at the risk of sounding like an old conservative fart, I don't think sports teams should be using war cemeteries as venues for training. Whatever the expressed emotion, these visits are clearly some coach's brainchild, part of a strategy to prepare a team for a game. But if you visit a cemetery, come to pay your respects and nothing else. Do not use the cemeteries as a means to an end, to facilitate some sort of organizational success. Who wouldn't find it tacky if we heard a corporate board was visiting Ypres as a bonding exercise, as part of a day-long "strategy planning retreat"?

If you feel your wards are in need of a little maturity, and should appreciate that no matter how tough their lives, other young men had it much, much worse, then encourage them on their own time to visit war museums and other memorials and read some history (perhaps buy them all a copy of John Keegan's The Face of Battle). But this programmed, publicised with photo-ops package tour, which uses the graves of thousands of men as part of an elaborate training routine is lacking in some desperately needed good taste.

By all means, pay your respects to the men who died in distant lands, often fighting for causes they only dimly understood. By all means acknowledge the horrendous toll in life that wars have exacted, and remember the men who could not have full productive lives, and the families who lost them. But to be truly respectful to them, leave your agendas out of it. Especially if those are part of a new-wave sports coaching plan.

My recent post about Queensland replacing Western Australia as the production line for fast bowlers, got me thinking about why such patterns emerge and what factors may trigger change. Why has the West Indies’ factory come to such a shuddering halt for example? There was a time when some of the guys who could not make their first XI would have been snapped up by any other international team. Chaps like Sylvester Clarke, Wayne Daniel and Ezra Moseley were genuinely scary but couldn't regularly crack the top team.

As much as Australia and South Africa continue to churn out good quicks, why is it now the case that some of the best fast bowling talent is emerging from the subcontinent? It’s a much a cultural shift as anything else – fast bowlers are no longer viewed as the quick entrée before the main meal. Is it down to coaching, nutrition, equipment or even a change in the physique of the Asian male?

To get some answers from someone who has recent experience of the art of fast bowling in Australia and India, I hunted down Joey Dawes, former Queensland and Middlesex fast bowler and the current fast bowling coach of the Queensland Bulls. Just in case there was any doubt about his commitment to the ‘club’, Joey also runs a specialist business which converts 'joggers' into fast bowling shoes by spiking them according to the individual’s running style, heel pattern, bowling action etc. It’s a pretty scientific operation, in consultation with podiatrists and other health professionals. His clients include Brett Lee, Mitchell Johnson and Jimmy Anderson. Not surprisingly, his business is called Fast Bowlers United. They’re a close knit bunch these dumb, quick bowlers!

Joey’s view on the modern coaching philosophy is part scientific, part gut instinct. His program includes enormous emphasis on ‘core strength’ (from abdomen to upper thighs) to enable his young charges to be able to get into the best possible position at the point of delivery to then allow their natural skills to flourish. Without good core strength, he believes the bowler’s action gets corrupted at that crucial point when the wrist needs to be behind the ball to enable it to swing.

Not only does poor core strength cause injury concerns but from a pure performance perspective, it might explain why some bowlers stop swinging the ball or “hitting the deck” (another buzz word in the fast bowling lexicon) when they start to get a bit tired. One of Joey’s pet projects is to get his protégés bowling equally sharp second and third spells, late in the day. In the contemporary game, a new ball bowler who is ineffective with an older ball later in the day, due to fatigue or not swinging the old ball, soon becomes the twelfth man!

Gone are the days though when the secret to being a genuine fast bowler was merely attributed to physique and muscle mass, thereby virtually rendering the smaller Asian frame obsolete. It’s clear now that the most open-minded coaches readily accept that there’s so much to the art than looking at such simplistic measures. There have been too many quality fast bowlers with wiry physiques and whippy actions to hold such a prejudiced and narrow view. From Kapil to Imran to Akram and more recently to Vaas’ guile, Malinga’s sling and a host of quality exponents like Akhtar, Zaheer, Gul and a host of others, it is a fool who continues to think that fast bowlers can only come from the one factory. Pace, swing, cutters and slower balls are now as much a skill-set in the subcontinent as on hard, bouncy or seaming wickets elsewhere.

Joey firmly believes that while the basic skills have remained remain constant for a hundred years (eg: core strength and good wrist position), the clever coaches now accept that there is an art form that is developing in the subcontinent that has contributed enormously to fast bowling lore. Twenty years ago, who would have thought that fast bowlers (and coaches) from around the world would descend on Chennai to hone their craft?

That’s exactly where Joey Dawes is headed this week – the MRF Pace Foundation in Chennai. He’s taking a few young fast bowlers with him, hoping that some of the Indian expertise will rub off on them. Interestingly, he reckons it’s not the physical skills that he’s looking to learn; there are a whole lot of mental skills that come with the territory. Patience, variety, reverse-swing, coping with heat and bowling to batsmen who play in ‘different areas’ on Indian pitches are some of the lessons that bowlers need to understand if they are to succeed in global conditions. With the lure of the IPL, every young quick bowler can now see the value in becoming an effective exponent on these pitches. There’s also a real sense that to succeed in the Subcontinent, you must first learn to appreciate the other cultural aspects like the food, the history and the deep-rooted passion for the game. I sensed his enthusiasm for the week ahead was a lot more than technical analysis.

I’d love to be a fly on the wall this week in Chennai, listening to all these fast bowlers exchanging ideas. For all their so-called ‘skill acquisition” gobbledygook, I bet they all share one common love – the sight of batsmen ducking and weaving, wearing bruises on their ribs and cracked helmets. The more things change, the more they stay the same. Fast Bowlers United indeed!

I’m hoping to have Part 2 of this story after Joey returns from India. I still think too many of our youngsters here in Australia get 'over coached' so I'm interested to see what Joey thinks of the system in India. At what point does raw talent need to be refined? With better equipment (like tailor-made shoes), will that make a massive difference to the number of athletes coming through the system? I'll ask him soon...

Just when I thought it was safe to assume that Shahid Afridi’s career as a genuine all-rounder was well and truly extinguished, he finds a maturity in his game that I was convinced he did not possess. Perhaps now, nigh on ten years after his stunning entry into the international game in Nairobi, we might yet see the sort of cricketer his talent always promised. If his last two Twenty20 innings is any indication of the new Afridi, strap yourselves in. This could be a wild ride!

The great irony of the Twenty20 triumph is that it now offers Afridi no more excuses for wasting his batting talents. For too long, he has taken refuge under the convenient umbrella of being classified, perhaps wrongly, of being a one-dimensional slogger. It has been an excuse that he has probably been only too happy to use because it afforded him immunity from those who tried to convince him that he was selling himself short by trying to slog every ball out of the ground. No more excuses Mr Afridi. We all know now that you’ve got the class, the patience and the shot selection to play much more meaningful innings than the brief cameos that you’ve become all-too-famous for.

His bowling has improved out of sight but that’s always been a steady part of his game. He rarely bowls that astonishingly quicker delivery that is through the batsman before he is on his downswing but is more consistent even without that variety. I remember Greg Blewett being completely dumbfounded by his Exocet missile in an ODI in Australia early in Afridi’s career but I can’t remember his googly being anywhere near as effective as in the last few months. In tandem with Ajmal, those middle overs now belong to Pakistan again, something they’ve missed since Saqlain Mushtaq finished up.

It’s Afridi’s batting though that interests me. What the Twenty20 championship has proved to everybody, perhaps even to Afridi himself, is that he is doing himself a massive disservice if he continues to swing like a barn door at every ball he faces. He showed us that he has delicate touch shots like the sweep and the punch down to long-on to take the single that’s on offer when the ball is not in the slot. His power has never been questioned so the boundary shots are always threatening but now that he has discovered the art of subtlety, he’s virtually impossible to bowl to. If only someone could convince him that the longer he’s at the crease, the more runs he’ll score. It’s hardly rocket science but it doesn’t seem to have registered with Afridi. Yet.

Pakistan need to do him a favour though and allow him to bat in the top order when the fielding restrictions are still in. It allows him to get away with the odd mis-hit and also allows him to score quickly with fewer risks, thereby calming the beast within. Once he’s over that initial 20 ball period, he tends to settle in and bat with a bit more commonsense (by his standards anyway!). It’s just a matter of giving him every chance to survive those early moments when his brain is running faster than the game situation dictates. Let’s face it – a fielder on the boundary has never stopped Afridi from taking him on anyway so why not send him in early when there are less fielders in the outfield.

Admittedly, he sometimes struggles against the moving ball and the shorter one directed at his ribs but then again, who doesn’t? Now that he has found a new lease of life, perhaps he will eschew that ridiculous pull/hook/hoick off the front foot and deal with the short one by backing away and slashing over point. That forces them to pitch it up and we all know what’s going to happen next.

It’s easy to forget how young Afridi still is. It feels like he’s been around forever, thrilling and disappointing us in unequal measure. It’s time now for the Grown-up Shahid Afridi to take us on the ride that he’s been promising for so long. Consistency and Fireworks are not necessarily mutually exclusive bedfellows. He’s proved that in two brilliant knocks when it mattered most in the Twenty20 Championship. Wild Child meets Self Belief – what an explosive combination. This kid could be anything.

Yesterday, Mike Holmans found the singing of the national anthems before the Women's Twenty20 final tear-inducing. And a week or so ago, Rob Steen wrote that the singing of the national anthems before the WC T20 games was a "tacky and transparent attempt to assert the primacy of the international game". But Rob is also someone, I think, who would like the primacy of the international game to be maintained (if I'm mistaken, please correct me). As someone who quite likes the national anthem ritual before sporting encounters, I feel obliged to throw in my tuppence.

Perhaps part of the reason Rob does not like the performance of the national anthem is because it is an overtly nationalistic gesture (in a time when a prima facie reaction to nationalism is that it is pretty darn unfashionable). Perhaps the disagreement is just about tactics. Rob might want to assert the primacy of the international game, he just doesn't want it done via the national anthem route. Fair enough. But I'd like to argue that national anthems aren't tacky and transparent and in fact, when it comes to trying to frame the international game in terms of some pomp and circumstance, it's a very good option (compared to the alternatives we have).

Now, I'm in an odd position when it comes to speaking up on behalf of national anthems. I don't live in my country of birth; while I stand for the US anthem at public events where it is played, I don't do the hand-over-the-heart routine; and in general, I dislike sanctimonious patriotic clap-trap as much as anyone else. So what is the deal?

Quite simply, I like national anthems before international sporting encounters, for quasi-aesthetic reasons, if they form part of a relatively simple nod to nationalist sentiment before the game (i.e., I'm not in favour of trotting out war veterans, politicians, screaming jets lighting their afterburners, parades etc). National anthems hush the crowd momentarily, which is always a good thing for getting the atmosphere of tension and anticipation just right; they remind everyone present that this game is played by national representatives; for spectators, national anthems can be marvelously evocative, largely because of childhood memories I suspect, in a way that other nationalist gestures simply aren't; and lastly players get a kick out of the anthems because it sets up the prizefighter-chomping-at-the-bit imagery quite well.

Compared to other nationalist gestures, the national anthem is relatively tasteful: some of them are harmless little ditties about how beautiful the respective countries are, which isn't too far from the truth, really, if you think about it; some are slightly triumphalist but I don't think any of the cricketing nations anthems do too badly on that account. For instance, Jana Mana Gana; Quami Tarana; Advance Australia Fair; God Defend New Zealand; the South African hybrid of Nkosi Sikelel' iAfrika and The Call of South Africa etc are relatively harmless and unlikely to cause offence. Indeed, the people most likely to complain about these national anthems are folks from their respective countries themselves because they find them boring or archaic or whatever.

And my attitude is that if it doesn't cause offence, and it helps to assert the primacy of the international game, then I'm all for it. Because one thing we don't have too much of these days are attempts to do just that. And international cricket needs it. Just like it needed this great Twenty20 World Cup.

	It was a privilege to be able to stand in the Long Room and applaud a winning England team back to their dressing room © Getty Images

While the public stands were only sparsely occupied for the women’s ICC World Twenty20 Final, the Pavilion End was packed. Admittedly this was mostly because seating for MCC Members and their friends is unreserved so those wanting a good viewing spot for the afternoon’s proceedings were obliged to turn up early, but the prospect of seeing an England team in a final they were actually expected to win made this far less of an inconvenience.

I had not realised how much I cared about it until the national anthems. I had stood for them before the men’s games at Lord's, respectful but unmoved – except when the Pakistan and Sri Lanka teams stood interleaved with one another in solidarity before their group game – but as the British dirge struck up for the women, I felt the tears welling. Not that I hadn’t been paying attention to the women’s progress: when those headlines about Edwards being a doubt for the semi-final appeared on Cricinfo mid-week, my first reaction to was to panic about Charlotte’s availability for England rather than be concerned about Fidel’s for WI.

But though the MCC were out in force for the final, they do not go in for community singing. Instead, about three dozen women at the Nursery End took on the onerous duty of representing the Barmy Army. I am no fan of their anthem - in its customary form as a baritone bellow it resembles a herd of cattle protesting at being woken up; as rendered yesterday it sounded more as though a fox had got into the henhouse. On the other hand, I usually like the songs for individual players, and the rewording of the old favourite “Michael Vaughan, my Lord, Michael Vaughan” for Jenny Gunn was felicitous.

In the event, the game was rather ruined as a spectacle by Katherine Brunt. A spell of 4-2-6-3 is liable to be pretty significant in any game of cricket, but as an opening burst in Twenty20 it is a gamebreaker. In the afternoon, following a start almost as bad for Sri Lanka, Kumar Sangakkara and Angelo Mathews were able to hit lustily enough to establish a total that was at least slightly competitive, but the New Zealand women were unable to achieve anything that gave them any realistic hope of salvation.

Being honest, though, one must admit that the women’s game is never likely to be spectacular. There may be women physically strong enough to bowl at 140kph or hit the ball high into the stands, but none of them are playing international cricket and one suspects that they would anyway be too bulky to be of much use in the field. People who enjoy watching the likes of Mahela Jayawardene, Ramnaresh Sarwan or Ian Bell batting well will find plenty to appreciate in women’s cricket – and since I am one, I much enjoyed Claire Taylor’s innings – but there are no Chris Gayles or Boom Boom Afridis to tonk the non-existent Lasith Malingas, Dale Steyns and Brett Lees around.

The pleasant corollary is that there are equally no Luke Wrights or Brendon McCullums. They are powerful enough men that when they mishit a wild slog, it is quite likely to clear the ring and fall safe, but a woman with abominable technique stands no chance at all, given that the women field well and look pretty safe catchers.

It is a pity that the game was not as exciting as the England v Australia semi-final, which was clearly the match of the tournament, but for English fans used to watching embarassing failures in World Cups, the sight of an England team cruising to a world crown was deeply satisfying.

So congratulations to Charlotte Edwards and her team, and thanks. It was a privilege to be able to stand in the Long Room and applaud a winning England team back to their dressing room. You did us proud.

	MS Dhoni is a man who is comfortable in his own skin © Getty Images

What’s not to like about MS Dhoni? Even as an outsider, a neutral, someone who just watches cricket for the sheer pleasure of the sport without any patriotic leanings, I find myself drawn towards a character like Dhoni. He is hard to dislike.

Reading his post-match interviews after India’s surprising exit from the World T20 Championship, it is clear that Dhoni is a man who is comfortable in his own skin. He offers reasons, not excuses. He accepts blames, shares it sometimes but never looks to shift it. He concedes mistakes, both by himself and from his team without appearing to be too self-effacing or disloyal. He has a quiet dignity that is able to accept defeat with relative grace whilst still showing the right measure of pain and disappointment. The captain of India needs to walk this line carefully. Too many self-recriminations and the knives will be out. Too blasé and they’ll accuse you of not caring enough. Dhoni looks to have found the right balance.

It was interesting to see that the first person he singled out for blame was himself. He admitted to not doing as well as he would have liked, to not playing the sort of explosive innings that his early reputation was forged on and for getting it slightly wrong with certain tactical decisions. He wasn’t necessarily apologising because he doesn’t need to. Why apologise? He didn’t mean to bat poorly or make tactical errors – it just happened. That's T20 cricket for you - it's a very fine line between winning and losing. So he didn’t apologise but he still expressed regret and took responsibility.

Even on the field, there’s a lot to admire about his captaincy style. He manages to strike that delicate balance between being animated and excited without crossing the line to becoming hyper-excited or irrationally emotional. Watching from afar, you sense the players trust him, respect him but do not fear him. Chris Gayle errs on the side of being ‘ultra cool’ although the word on the street is that his players adore him. To be fair, his style tends to suit the West Indian cricketing culture where almost all of their captains were strong men who rarely got flustered. I can’t think of the last Windies skipper who ‘lost it’ in public, despite some terrible floggings in recent times. Even Lara, tortured genius that he was, displayed great manners and dignity throughout his difficult reign.

Back to Dhoni though – I just hope that the post-mortem from the T20 disappointments don’t go too far and see him removed from the job. He’s a breath of fresh air for the game and it continues India's recent tradition of captains who command respect. Dravid and Kumble were both men who believed that to be strong did not mean you had to throw your weight around like a bully. Both quintessential gentlemen. Like them, Dhoni appears strong enough to stand up to any international captain but affable enough to make every effort to get on with them too. You get the sense that he commands genuine respect from the opposition.

He might have to look at his own game and ponder on whether the captaincy is curbing those wonderful attacking instincts that announced his arrival on the world stage. He is probably more reliable these days but does India need that from him? I would prefer to see someone else playing the Mr Reliable role and Dhoni returning to being the powerhouse middle-order batsman who can transform a game in a few brutal minutes. He is probably less feared today than he was two years ago. Ask most opposition teams which Dhoni they’d fear more and I suspect it would be Dhoni Mark I.

The partnership with Gary Kirsten should be a good one for India. Kirsten was an uncomplicated player without frills or ego but his effectiveness as a very fine batsman was never questioned. Like Dhoni, he seems to be an essentially decent man who operates without histrionics and public displays of petulance or triumphalism. For India’s sake, I hope the partnership is allowed to continue. For the sake of world cricket, it’s important to have two strong men of integrity leading the most influential team in the world, on and off the field.

I just hope the team balance allows the real MS Dhoni to show himself again. I’m talking about the man with wrists of steel who uses a short backlift to muscle the ball over the boundary. India has plenty of others who can play the percentages but when a player like Dhoni comes along, it would be a crying shame to shackle his instincts. Maybe that’s what captaincy does for you. Maybe that’s why Adam Gilchrist never really fancied the job. Mind you, it hasn’t worried Chris Gayle too much – he still only knows one way and it is that reputation that makes teams nervous. Just knowing that Gayle might go off is enough to put you off your game. Dhoni has that same power but it's been locked away for some time. Unleash the beast I say.......

	There may have been more to Younis Khan's candid admission that Twenty20 was 'fun' © Associated Press

At some point in the build up to this World Twenty20, Younis Khan would have assembled the rest of the Pakistan team think-tank to pore over the tournament's list of fixtures. Shoaib Malik would have been there along with Misbah-ul-Haq, Shahid Afridi and Kamran Akmal.The coach would probably have not been around, this being the kind of meeting where you only invite those you can call upon when it hits the fan out in the middle.

There would have been an intense seriousness to this meeting, a sober atmosphere that Pakistan's cricketers, with their trademark devil-may-care attitude, are loath to display in public. There would have been an implicit recognition of what was at stake. After the visiting Sri Lankans were attacked by terrorists in Lahore in March, John Stern, Editor of the Wisden Cricketer, questioned in an interview on CNN whether Pakistan would even be able to play in the World Twenty20. Stern's was only one prominent voice among many fussing about Pakistan's threat of cricketing isolation. The nucleus of Pakistan's team saw clearly, as indeed did the rest of the country, that the World Twenty20 would be their last chance to push back.

After digesting the schedule of fixtures for a few minutes, one of them would have pointed out, as is obvious to everyone now, that five victories could get you the title. A mere five victories, of which four need to be against authentic Test nations. In the event, Pakistan have had the easiest ride of the tournament so far, with wins against two associate nations, plus New Zealand, which has traditionally been the weakest of the authentic Test sides. By the looks of it the cricket gods are finally smiling, perhaps offering a long overdue break to the country that has seen more turbulence in the last two years than in the rest of its six-decade history.

Back at the pre-tournament meeting, Younis would have contemplated this campaign knowing he was up against much more than just cricketing opposition. He had to lift spirits, sharpen everyone's focus, and blot out the hype that inevitably accompanies the likes of India and Australia and was bound to undercut his own team's morale. He knew he had to prepare everyone by modulating expectations, which he delicately calibrated by announcing that reaching the semi-finals would be good enough. He would also have been mindful of the potential for the Daniel Vettoris of the cricketing world to behave as sore losers, and he would have been conscious of the deafening criticism that would erupt from Pakistan's unforgiving press and public at the first defeat. Younis knew he would need a terrific Plan B, something as powerful and galvanising as Imran Khan's 'cornered tigers' appeal from 1992.

After the Group B defeat to England, he unveiled it, telling a bemused media contingent that Twenty20 is 'fun cricket'. Younis was addressing his own team of course. Take it easy, close your eyes, relax. You can easily picture him sticking to the same theme as the toughest test yet awaits. Sure, its the semi-final and South Africa is some seriously tenacious opposition, but don’t let that get to you. Imagine you're just playing a league match in Lahore. Enjoy yourself.

	Batsmen, and not the batting order, should be flexible in the approach to a match situation © Getty Images

Adaptive flexibility, I never tire of reminding the students in my foundations of artificial intelligence class, is a good thing; its what seemingly separates us humans from the lower rungs of the cognitive ladder. The Indian captain MS Dhoni, and the Indian team's brain-trust clearly thinks this virtue is paramount when it comes to batting orders, for if there is one constant in the Indian limited-overs team, it is this: the batting order is inconstant.

It is not my intention here to offer a full-fledged post-mortem of India's early exit from the ICC World Twenty20. All I would like to do is to point out a mistaken emphasis in India's planning for its batting line-up. Which is that the Indian captain seems to think that flexibility in approaching match situations is achieved by changing the batting order. I'd like to suggest that the flexibility should inhere in the batsmen themselves, and not in the order in which they are sent in.

That is, a cricket team should concentrate on making sure the batsmen in the batting order are flexible in their approaches to a particular match situation. If you are a No. 3, and an early wicket falls, you play a little differently than you do if there are a hundred runs on the board. If you are a No. 6, and the team is in trouble, as opposed to looking for a declaration, you bat a little differently. And so on.

Yes, I know, its obvious. But if it's so obvious, then why can't the Indian team settle into a stable batting order, with instructions to its members that read, "When you go out to play, keep in mind the match situation and play accordingly?" Why, instead, does the standing rule appear to be "We'll send in different batsmen in every game, depending on how things are panning out in the middle?" The latter doesn't seem to indicate great confidence in the batting order's ability to be flexible and capable of raising their level depending on a given match situation. And a batting line-up that is not capable of responding to a variety of match situations doesn't sound like a very good side.

I realised, with a little start of surprise, as this World Cup went on, that I have absolutely no idea of what the Indian batting order, is, or has been, for a while. I've associated Sehwag and Gambhir with the opening position. The rest is a bit of a blur. Who is our No. 3? Who is our No. 6? I have no clue. Do the batsmen in the team know which position they will be playing in on a given day? Sure, sending them in at different positions challenges them. But why not give them stability in their expectations of where they are to play and instead demand adaptiveness in their responses to match situations?

The game of cricket throws many, many, variants at its players. The good teams adapt and alter their game in response (as do the good players). The Indian team has the right idea. But the tactic it has chosen, that of constantly chopping and changing the order, is backwards. Make a player own a position, and tell him he needs to change as the game demands. He
will be a better player for it; and the team, having established some stability in one part of its tactical arsenal, can get on with planning around it. Having to decide, before every single game, what the batting order is to be is an unnecessary increase in workload for both captain and coach. A relatively stable batting order would be one step towards enabling a greater focus on improving cricketing skills (such as fielding and playing the short-pitched ball, for instance). Which really seems to be where the Indian team's attentions should be directed at this point in
time.

	Ashley Noffke is the latest in the list of fast bowlers moving to Western Australia © Getty Images

“Go West young man”. It appears to be the new anthem for any fast bowler in Australia looking for a new home. Western Australia, long considered to be the breeding ground for fast bowlers, is now the migrating home for disillusioned 'quicks' seeking opportunities on pitches long considered to be the fastest and bounciest pitches in the world.

Ashley Noffke is the latest quick bowler to join the Western Australia Warriors. Nurtured in Queensland, Noffke has had a very public falling-out with the locals and has decided to move to Perth to begin anew the quest to add to his solitary ODI cap. A fine bowling allrounder with a high action and a good outswinger, he joins a West Australian attack that is virtually entirely "Made in Queensland". Steve Magoffin and Ben Edmondson were both fringe players in the Queensland system when they left home, unable to crack the pedigree attack of Michael Kasprowicz, Andy Bichel, Joey Dawes, Mitchell Johnson and Noffke himself. For Queensland, an embarrassment of riches has now become a fast bowling kindergarten again, having lost the first three of those players to retirement and the latter two names to the West.

Noffke’s defection seems to be the bitterest pill to swallow, judging by local reaction. The public appear to be pretty ‘dirty’ on the Queensland Bulls administration, blaming them for a lack of loyalty in only offering Noffke a one year contract and for suggesting that he be left in cotton wool for the longer version of the game only. To be fair to Queensland, it must be noted that it is their preferred policy to offer one year contracts to most senior players. It’s a curious tradition but one that Noffke is well aware of. Shunned by Australian selectors after a brief taste of international cricket and crippled by persistent injury last season, he clearly felt slighted by the offer of a short contract and decided to call a very public bluff by releasing a media statement through his manager. As far as ransom notes go, it fell flat. Hello Perth, hello Fremantle Doctor. Noffke will take plenty of wickets at the WACA if he stays fit.

It’s difficult to pinpoint exactly why the fast bowling factory in Western Australia has dried up in recent times. There was a time not long ago when it was a fertile breeding ground for the best 'quicks' in the country. Dennis Lillee, Terry Alderman, Bruce Reid, Jo Angel, Brendon Julian and Chris Matthews came through that halcyon period. Ironically, Western Australia’s three most recent Test fast bowlers have all come from interstate – Matt Nicholson, Brad Williams and Mitchell Johnson (who moved to Perth to be closer to his partner). Even more ironically, Western Australia’s most recent Test bowlers have actually been spinners; Brad Hogg and a bit of part-time stuff from Marcus North. In the Lillee heyday when the WACA was by far the most feared pitch in the world, that would have been unthinkable.

Mind you, such ironies are not restricted only to Australia. West Indies captains have always turned to their giants to restrict opposition batsmen but who would have thought that it would be a slow left-arm orthodox bowler? Suleiman Benn is now the most reliable bowler available to Chris Gayle. What next – a 200 cm Indian fast bowler with a Bon Jovi hairstyle and a vicious bouncer? Never......

Whilst Queensland supporters are irate at their system for allowing Noffke to fly the coop, I can see why the CEO decided to hold his ground and not be held to ransom by one player. In an era where ‘player power’ rules supreme, it is a refreshing change to see a situation where a CEO sticks to a decision made on principle. This week, in the midst of a global recession when ordinary Australians are being asked to make sacrifices, our cricketers have just been given a pay rise and even the WAGs have been granted flight upgrades. They will no doubt regret losing a player of Noffke’s ability but at least the rest of their young squad realise that the selectors have enough faith in them to let him go without caving in to pressure from managers and blog sites. A glass is either half-full or half-empty. This is Queensland’s chance to show that the HQ of the national fast bowling factory is still in Brisbane.

Will there ever be another dynasty with the calibre of Rackemann, Kasprowicz, Bichel, Dale, Noffke, Johnson, McDermott, Muller etc? The name McDermott rings a bell….his son, Alister made his debut for the Bulls last season. There must be something in the water here!

	Wasim Akram's commentary has failed to measure up to his bowling © AFP

Wasim Akram was capable of bowling a truly nasty bouncer. Every now and then he would unleash it, targeting the center of the throat or the spot on the forehead right between the eyes. Even the most competent batsmen have acknowledged that there was no getting away from it. Like a guided missile, it just kept coming at you relentlessly.

Akram has now left the bowling crease and planted himself behind the commentator’s mike. One notes with a certain resignation that his commentary is not as penetrating or targeted as his bowling. I say ‘resignation’ and not disappointment, because it is impossible for Akram to disappoint. Even if he said nothing and just sat behind the mike and every so often we saw him smiling, that would make our day. Why? Because he’s Wasim Akram, that’s why.

Still, it would be pleasing and fitting if Akram’s commentary career carried some of the same zest and punch as his cricket career. In cricket, he moved the ball around as if he had it on a string and, when the mood was right, hit it miles with the bat. In contrast, his commentary seems the equivalent of gentle long hops delivered with an unmotivated, burdensome action.

To be fair, occasionally he will indeed say something quite insightful. He’ll scan the field and recommend an adjustment that leaves you fascinated. He will also occasionally entertain, saying something dismissive or curt in his signature Lahori drawl. More often, though, he shies from opinion and analysis and just passes on trivialities.

Of the three Pakistani ex-players currently on the international commentary circuit – Rameez Raja, Waqar Younis and Wasim Akram – Akram’s persona behind the mike is the most jarring and anomalous. Rameez’s commentary is pleasant and agreeable, more or less like his batting career. Waqar started out awkwardly as a commentator but somewhere along the way found his inner focus to deliver fluent and polished commentary peppered with zingers.

Even though Akram has been doing this for a while, he still seems an inhibited soul. It doesn’t help that he often gets partnered with Harsha Bhogle, a voluble man whose theoretical command of cricket is incisive as well as encyclopedic. This contrast with a more natural commentator makes Akram look even worse.

There is more to Wasim Akram than this. All of us who have followed his career and kept track of all the news he has generated and continues to generate, sense deep down that there is a far more interesting commentator in him yearning to break through. This inner commentator is more talkative, witty and opinionated. He is free of reserve and self-consciousness.

One possibility is that Akram isn’t adequately engaged in the commentator’s role, that he isn’t trying hard enough. The truth, I feel, is the reverse – he’s trying too hard. He’s not being himself. Someone needs to tell him to loosen up. Perhaps he’s been coached. If so, whoever has coached him has done him a disservice.

Unlike out in the middle, where there was a captain like Imran Khan to get the best out of him, behind the mike Akram is alone. Only he can pull himself out of this rut. He should get the sense of being in the spotlight out of his head and imagine he’s in a drawing room watching cricket on TV surrounded by friends. Wasim Akram was always at his best on the pitch when he let his natural flair and aggression come through. The commentators’ box is no different.

	Andrew Symonds is entitled to make his own lifestyle choices and accept the consequences © Getty Images

Apparently Andrew Symonds may have a slight issue with alcohol. Shock, horror. After months of denials from his management team, an assurance from his counsellors that he was ready to take up life in the public spotlight again and complete confidence expressed in him by the selectors/team-mates, apparently there may still be a lingering problem. Really?

Apparently he now faces the very real possibility of having his Cricket Australia contract ripped. Gosh, we never saw that one coming!

Apparently the team and the administrators feel that he’s had enough chances. Apparently the new team culture cannot make any more allowances for someone with an alcohol problem. This surprising revelation came from Ricky Ponting, looking solemn and sad and ever-so-slightly ridiculous in his VB cap and VB team shirt. No place for alcohol in this environment Roy. Not for public consumption anyway!

Apparently the terms of his contract had a special clause to help him deal with this slight penchant for a beer. What do you do with someone who may have a wee drinking problem? Of course - allow him to drink with team-mates in the dressing room or in the hotel but for goodness sake, don’t let him be seen in public. He can drink if he likes but he just can’t be seen to be drinking.

Apparently that will fix the problem. Just ask any expert in that area (not that I am one!) and they’ll tell you that the best thing for someone in Symonds’ position is to allow him to drink in private but ensure he isn’t seen doing it in public. Yeah right. Make sure someone is always assigned to look after him 24/7 and frogmarch him back to his hotel room if things go a bit pear shaped. There’s a great alcohol management plan! Apparently.

It’s hardly like this latest showdown is any great surprise. Blind Freddy (not Flintoff in the Caribbean on a pedalo)) could have predicted this without the benefit of counsellors and psychologists. Here is a guy who is clearly battling with what he wants out of life. No secret there. I predicted this situation back in September 2008 and a few weeks ago when the Ashes squad was announced. Surely those closest to him would have seen this coming?

Symonds is entitled to ask himself; are these friends, managers, counsellors and employers actually interested in my welfare or do they just want to use my marketability and skill until I become a liability? Any contract that merely requires me to maintain a public image while turning a blind eye to a growing problem in private sounds more like a PR exercise than a genuine effort to help me find any long-term solutions to whatever it is that is bugging me.

It’s probably time now to give him some time to make his own decisions and then treat him no differently to any other member of the squad. Everyone should know the rules and the rules should apply to equally to everyone. Simple as that. Grown men taking responsibility for themselves without having to rely on having a ‘minder’ to watch over them. If that’s what it takes to control one individual in a team environment, what does that say about the culture of that organisation?

That might be exactly what Symonds needs. He can make his own choices and choose his own ‘inner-circle’ of people who are prepared to support him through those choices. He won’t feel that sense of betrayal and confusion about his Jekyll & Hyde image problem. He can be free to be himself, whoever or whatever that is and his employers can decide if he fits into that culture. With or without a VB cap.

The best place to look for truth is in front of the mirror. For Symonds, there’s nothing to be gained for yearning wistfully for the days of Lillee, Marsh, Boon etc and the baggy green culture that prevailed then. Whether we agree with it or not, those days have gone. The memories of poorly paid cricketers, flying economy-class and working part-time jobs have also long gone. You take the good with the bad.

He’s entitled to make his own lifestyle choices and accept the consequences. This is a man who jumps on wild pigs in the outback, just for something to do to pass the time of day. If he wants to have a beer or ten and turn his back on cricket, surely that is his prerogative.

On and off the field, he was always prepared to play big shots and take his chances. Death or glory. That’s Andrew Symonds. So long as he understands that his actions are his own responsibility and that it is not upto anybody else to protect him, cover for him or chaperone him. In public or in private.

	Netherlands' performance was one of committed enterprise, England’s one of nervous inhibition © Getty Images

Regular readers will recall that I predicted two months ago that England would pick the wrong team and get beaten by Netherlands, and so it has come to pass. Discussion of England’s incompetence can wait until they have been eliminated; today is for lavishing praise upon the Dutch.

Netherlands won because they entered into the spirit of Twenty20 and their opponents did not. Theirs was a performance of committed enterprise, England’s one of nervous inhibition.

Their preparation was no doubt enhanced by the experience of Dirk Nannes, the Australian whose Dutch parentage makes him eligible for the Netherlands’ team but also allowed him to play for Middlesex last year as a non-overseas player. The sight of him opening the bowling from the Nursery End was thus very familiar. Nannes has real pace, but he was also accurate enough to prevent Bopara exploiting it.

The rest of their attack is really rather ordinary, but it has the advantage of not being very quick. The boundaries in use at Lord’s (and at The Oval, from today’s TV coverage) are the same as in Test cricket, so batsmen have to supply all the power if they are to clear the ropes off the Dutch bowling – and though Luke Wright tried, his timing and technique were not really up to it.

The combination of tigerish fielding and bowling that made fast scoring slightly tricky was enough to restrict the target to eight an over – stiff but by no means impossible.

The first couple of overs did not go well, but thereafter they took their lives in their hands and just went for it. They tried to hit everything, and England placed so much reliance on their fast bowlers that miscues went for four; even more importantly, they ran for everything, especially overthrows and ricochets. Such impertinence sent the England fielders into a tailspin of panic, and the errors, dropped catches and wild throws multiplied.

The shot of the day was Tom de Grooth’s six off Broad. Stepping forward to turn the ball into a half-volley, he played the perfect three-iron over long-off. His innings was a gem, as adventurous and stylish as anything we will see from well-known internationals in the major teams. At the age of 30 he probably has higher priorities in life, but a number of counties will have seen enough to consider offering him a contract at least for next season’s Twenty20 competitions.

The English were frightened of making mistakes, made too many, and worried about them. The Dutch expected that they would make mistakes and therefore ignored them. Twenty20 is about being fearless, and it was the bravest team which won. Pakistan, no strangers themselves to losing World Cup matches to minnows, be warned.

The Dutch victory was not the only example of the cricketing gods’ excellent taste, though. Instead of the opening ceremony which the organisers had planned, we were treated to something far more characteristic of English cricket: the ground staff taking the covers off just in time for the rain to restart, not once but three times over. As entertainment, this was almost certainly superior to the scheduled display of the twelve men’s captains standing on six little daises waving inanely to the crowd while Alesha Dixon sang.

A little World Cup involving twelve teams does not need an opening ceremony to kick it off – a thrilling cricket match was all that was needed, and that is what we had.

Gelukwensen aan de Nederlanders!

Are the best cricketers of our times born with talent or have they been unwittingly dealt the best hands in life, courtesy of their lucky birth date? Millions of people around the world believe in astrology and auspicious dates but could it be much simpler than that? How many potentially great cricketers were never heard of, lost to the game before their talent was allowed to blossom?

In his best-selling book Outliers, Malcolm Gladwell explores the playing rosters of many American and European team sports (ice hockey, basketball, football) and discovers the amazing coincidence of birth dates. In a system that has a junior selection system based on a calendar year (January 1 to December 31), his statistics show that an extraordinarily high percentage of athletes’ birthdays are from the first few months of the year.

His theory is that in junior sport these boys naturally tend to be bigger, stronger and physically more advanced than boys who are born later in that year. At a young age, this is a significant advantage and leads to the same group of boys dominating their junior teams, being regularly selected for the top teams, getting the best coaching and widening the gap between those born later in that 12-month cycle.

His is a convincing argument which also suggests that the younger kids get discouraged by that disparity in physical maturity (and not getting selected for junior rep teams) and they tend to drop out of that sport, thereby fulfilling the prophecy of the older boys who continue to make all the top teams through to adulthood.

It made me wonder if cricket has a similar story to tell. Do the best international cricketers owe something to their birth dates and the natural advantage it gave them at a young age? Does physical maturity and size matter for a non-contact sport like cricket? After all, most of the best batsmen are relatively small fellows (Brian Lara, Sachin Tendulkar, Don Bradman, Allan Border, Ricky Ponting, Sunil Gavaskar etc).

In order to test this theory in a very non-scientific way, I decided to look at the current World Twenty20 squads of every major cricketing country and see how many of the 15 squad members were born in the first or second half of the year. Here are the results:

Current World Twenty20 squads

Team	January-June	July-December
Australia	5	10
New Zealand	5	10
South Africa	9	6
England	11	4
West Indies	7	8
Bangladesh	7	8
Sri Lanka	8	7
Pakistan	6	9
India	1	14

Oh well, there goes that theory I thought. Most countries, England apart, are inconclusive or lean strongly towards the reverse of Gladwell’s theory. No advantage in being born earlier in the calendar year.

It then occurred to me that most countries, England apart, have cricket seasons that mirror the Southern Hemisphere summer. At junior levels, do they select age-group squads from a July or September cut-off date? If so, does that go some way towards explaining the bias in countries like Australia, NZ, Pakistan and India towards boys born in the second half of the year? India especially has an amazingly high ratio, 14/15 of their current T20 squad born between July and December.

Now I’m the first one to admit that looking at a single Twenty20 tournament only tells a tiny fraction of cricket’s long history. And I’m not even sure if these countries do indeed have junior cut-offs that runs from say September 1 to August 30 for example. I’d be fascinated to hear from people around the world who may be able to shed some light on this question. Perhaps there’s more to this theory after all!

And if England’s junior age cut-off operates according to a calendar year, that makes it even more interesting…..are we on to something here? Their stats show a leaning towards players born in the first six months.

Going back in time, let’s look at the World Cup winning teams and runners-up (if it involves Australia, New Zealand, England or the subcontinent) from 1983 to 1992. This safely eliminates anybody currently playing in the World Twenty20. I’ve looked at New Zealand’s semi-final team from 1992 too.

World-cup winning teams and runner-ups

Team	January-June	July-September
India 1983	3	8
Australia 1987	7	4
England 1987	6	5
Pakistan 1992	5	6
England 1992	6	5
New Zealand 1992	3	9

The pattern still seems to be (largely) holding true. England’s statistics from that period are slightly misleading because so many of their players from that era were not born in England and may have started their junior careers under some other country’s system (Gladstone Small, Graeme Hick, Allan Lamb, Chris Lewis, Philip DeFreitas and many more). If you take out those ‘foreign born’ players, the figures support this theory even more.

Confining my analysis to these four countries (India, Pakistan, Australia and England), I had a quick look at the top 10 players in the current ICC rankings for Tests and ODI’s. For players from these nations, batsmen and bowlers, the trend is still consistent:

Teams with players in the top ten in the Test and ODI rankings

Country	January-June	July-December
India	0	5
Pakistan	1	1
Australia	2	6
England	2	1

Even if the cut-off dates do not support my theory, it is quite odd that all countries that play cricket between September-March seem to have more cricketers born in the second half of the year. Why is that? Unless there's some unusual factor in play, the results should be roughly 50/50 but India especially has nowhere near a 50% ratio. It's massively skewed in favour of players born in the second half of the year. What's the reason?

Another interesting fact is that when a player defies the broad trend for his country, it is usually a child protege, someone who was always destined to make it. These are the rare talents who were always likely to be much better than their age cohorts. It didn’t really matter if they were competing with older boys. Shahid Afridi, Michael Clarke, Tendulkar, Hasan Raza and Vinod Kambli for example are all born in the first half of the year (opposite to the trend). Their genius (at a young age) was never going to be denied by anything, least of all a favourable birth date.

Gladwell’s examples aren’t just restricted to sport. He cites numerous research studies in mathematics, science, reading and university education where the statistics are significantly skewed in favour of the oldest children of that year batch. It’s a natural advantage that seemingly begins at a young age and keeps repeating itself over a person’s lifetime as they continue to benefit from the common mistake of comparing maturity with ability at too young an age. There is no doubt that in most aspects of life, a child is advantaged by being the oldest in his/her age group and if this means they keep getting selected in the ‘gifted’ stream or team, their improvement continues with the best coaching, encouragement and opportunities. Their inevitable success is almost a fait accompli.

If this phenomenon is actually true in cricket, the long-term answer might be in having a rolling cut-off date for junior cricketers. It might be Jan 1 followed by July 1 the next year and so on. Theoretically, this should give all youngsters a fair chance to compete with boys of their own size and maturity. It could mean that we have twice as many talented kids to choose from once that maturity/size factor evens out.

For Australia and New Zealand with small populations where cricket competes with other sports for the best athletes, this may be a crucial tool in talent retention. For India with a billion-plus people to whom cricket is clearly the number one sport, perhaps it doesn’t really matter. From what I’ve seen on the maidans and alleyways in India, a shortage of talent is never going to be a problem in that part of the world!

	Daniel Vettori took three wickets and effected a run-out to seal a nine-run win for New Zealand against India © AFP

The difference between Clark Kent and Daniel Vettori is that Clark Kent took his glasses off before saving the day.

India had slowed down a little but were still ahead of the rate, seemingly cruising to victory when Vettori brought himself back on for the 17th over. Yusuf Pathan could not make much out of the first two balls, but latched on to the third, sending a screamer back over the bowler’s head. A certain four, quite likely six. Except that SuperDan leapt, stuck both hands in the air and despite being knocked sideways by the force of the blow, was still clinging on to the ball when he hit the ground.

It was a stunning catch. The remaining Indian batsmen seemed dazed as they pushed and prodded for singles and scrambled twos when boundaries were needed. The crowd in the Upper Compton stand, which had been shouting loud enough for an entire full house, stopped mid-yell and sat in shock as the game slipped away.

Catches indeed win matches – even in a form of the game where wicket-taking is theoretically optional.

Not that this was Vettori’s only influence on the Indian innings. Gautam Gambhir and Rohit Sharma had started well, Gambhir falling at the end of the fifth over with the score on 42 to bring danger man MS Dhoni to the crease. Dhoni began with dot-four-two and then Vettori brought himself on for the first over after the powerplay. By the end of the over, he had disposed of both Dhoni and Sharma, and India wobbled slightly. Since Raina and Ravindra Jadeja soon picked up the pace, it did not seem to have mattered all that much; in hindsight, perhaps it left them a batsman short right at the end. And of course it was Vettori whose sharp pick-up and throw ran out Irfan Pathan to extinguish India’s remaining hopes.

Other than Vettori, the rest of the participants in the game mostly did what you probably expected them to. Raina and Sharma hit the ball sweetly, Ross Taylor and Scott Styris aggressively, and Brendon McCullum batted with the grace and subtlety of an out-of-tune Motorhead.

I do not demand classical purity of technique. I’ve watched in awe as Brian Lara and Kevin Pietersen invented shots I’d never seen before. I’ve weathered, just, the storm as Viv Richards the Master Blaster unleashed his elemental power. I love it that the unorthodox jostles with the technically correct to enrich this wonderful game.

But that does not mean I have to approve of McCullum’s batting.

Effective it may be – when it comes off – but it is ugly, ugly, ugly. I do not for a minute accept that Twenty20 is some horrible mutant as the form’s most vehement detractors would have you believe, but McCullum is the sort of unhelpful evidence the defence does not need to have brought before the court. At the very least, his innings ought to be regarded as not suitable viewing for impressionable young minds – but since the whole idea of this tournament is to get the kids watching, I fear that a whole generation may be corrupted while such menace is allowed out on a cricket field.

Over the next three weeks we will see brilliance and incompetence, thrilling games and bad ones, beauty, courage, comedy, athleticism, determination, clumsiness, impudence, passion, triumph and despair. And McCullum’s batting.

We got most of those at Lord's on Monday evening. As a warm-up, India v New Zealand was just about perfect.