tag:blogs.espncricinfo.com,2012:/diffstrokes//139 2012-02-07T06:20:04Z Movable Type 3.34 tag:blogs.espncricinfo.com,2012:/diffstrokes//139.27333 2012-02-07T06:12:23Z 2012-02-07T06:20:04Z

Michael Jeh Saving up for a mad dash in the final overs isn't always recommended on Australian grounds © AFP
I'm no mathematician. Messrs Duckworth & Lewis clearly have brains vastly superior to mine. Until yesterday, I have largely agreed with their complex system of making a rain-affected target a fair outcome for both teams. Looking at it from a pure layman's perspective though, I cannot understand how India's target the other night at the MCG remained unchanged. Someone, educate me....please. When the rain came, Australia were struggling at 2 for 35 off 11 overs. India had already benefited from their skill at this point of the game, taking two key wickets at roughly 3 runs-per-over. Australia then batted superbly to score at almost 9 an over, losing only three more wickets in the process. I would have thought (clearly mistakenly) that the brilliance of their post-rain innings would have resulted in a target that was more than the 216 they eventually posted. India had already taken two wickets, so by getting rid of David Warner and Ricky Ponting, they had effectively reduced Australia's firepower. Sadly for them, and great credit to Matthew Wade and the Hussey brothers, Australia were able to recover from this poor start and stage an impressive comeback. Where was the reward for that great recovery? From a commonsense viewpoint, it seemed to me that India would need to have chased at least 10-15 runs more to compensate for the fact that they knew all along that it was only 32 overs. They could afford to play shots from the very outset because they didn't have to try to bat 50 overs, which is what Warner and Ponting thought they were doing at the start, hence the cautious approach (and some fine bowling from the Kumar duo). In the end it didn't matter because India were realistically never in the hunt after they lost early wickets. It was the sort of chase that needed a Virender Sehwag or Yuvraj Singh presence. MS Dhoni may have been able to score at that pace but on a big Australian ground, it was always going to be tough to hit sixes at will. I was surprised at Dhoni's reticence to go for the big shot, I must confess. I know he favours the approach of getting within striking distance and then trying to win it in a mad dash but I don't think that works in Australia. The boundaries are too big and you generally won't get too many overs of spin bowled at you at the death. Pakistan batsmen love this approach and they're pretty good at it too but I think Dhoni is making a serious miscalculation by letting the run rate drift too high before launching his assault. He doesn't have the lower-order support to be able to do that over an extended target. Perth might be one of the few grounds where you can hit sixes straight down the ground and score at 10 an over at the end of a game. Homebush in Sydney, where the first Twenty20 game was played last Wednesday has similar potential for a late flourish. But if India keep choosing to chase runs and adopt a strategy of waiting for the last five overs before they go ballistic, I don't think that strategy will work in this country. Even if Duckworth-Lewis doesn't hurt them in the way I expected it to on Sunday night. Looking forward to your thoughts on whether Duckworth-Lewis got it right on this occasion. ]]> tag:blogs.espncricinfo.com,2012:/diffstrokes//139.27240 2012-02-04T03:48:52Z 2012-02-07T06:20:21Z

Shanaka Amarasinghe Leslie Mathew Brad Hogg: happy to be on the field than off it © Getty Images
That really is the question, isn’t it? Serena Williams recently went on record saying that she dislikes tennis and would much rather shop. The irony is that tennis has made her close to $35 million in prize money, which in Sri Lanka would provide for a large portion of the national health budget. Once you get over the fact that some professionals probably don’t enjoy the fame, the stardom, the money, the glamour, the paparazzi, and realise that with all that comes the pressure, the constant travelling, being away from loved ones, high-profile failure, media attention and disproportionate dislike from some segments of the population, you begin to realise you’re really better off at your desk. Serena also went on to say she “doesn’t like working out” and also doesn’t really fancy any sort of physical activity. That said, she doesn’t have such a bad record for a couch potato. She is also not alone in taking a large chomp at the digits that provide her sustenance. Andre Agassi, one of the few men to win all four grand slams (five, if you count Steffi Graf), said in his book: “I hate tennis, hate it with a dark and secret passion, and always have.” Imagine what he may have achieved if he actually liked what he did? Trolling through ESPNcricinfo’s excellent Quote Unquote section, I stumbled across a contrary view from the irrepressible Brad Hogg. “There are people out there digging holes for a living and we're actually playing cricket. So stop whingeing,” he is reported to have told Melbourne Stars coach Greg Shipperd, who criticised the scheduling of the Big Bash League. Despite Williams' and Agassi’s admitted dislike of their sport, they are clearly the more celebrated superstars than the ever-smiling Bradley Hogg. Rightly so, one may argue, because they are both champions many times over, while Hogg is "merely" a good bowling allrounder. Isn’t that the problem, though? Some of those international sportspeople we don’t look at twice may just be the ones we should be looking at. We love the entertainers, the ostensibly successful, on a superficial level. Hogg will always remain etched in my memory as the perennial competitor. Bowling, as he does, in chinaman style, with that unwavering wide grin on his face, he played the international game in the spirit in which all sport should be played. I remember the incident vividly from several years ago, when Hogg chased a ball to the boundary, slid in to scoop it back, and went into the boundary wall feet first. His technique was impeccable, except that his left foot didn’t land squarely on the wall. As he sliding into the wall, at full pelt, with the camera behind him, we saw replays of Hogg’s ankle turning 180 degrees and the sole of his foot pointing towards the back of his head. The replays confirmed that it was a pretty horrific injury. In real time however, despite suffering that break, Hogg saved the boundary, got up, limp-sprinted back to the ball, got it into his keeper before collapsing in pain. Even he couldn’t bowl that day though. In an era where we see players who are paid hundreds of thousands of pounds a week, falling over in the European Football Leagues and writhing in pain when replays confirm that they were barely touched by opposing players, it is unfortunate that we don’t venerate the tenacity of players like Hogg. Of course, there are others like him – but they are in the minority. Recently the Sri Lankan cricket team’s travails, both on and off the field, were well-documented. South African players said they were surprised the team was playing without being paid. In that regard the Sri Lankans deserve a pat on the back. On the flip side however, the delay was with respect to central contractual payments. Match fees and per diems were being paid on time. And a single match fee for, say, an ODI, is worth close to about five middle management executives' monthly wages in corporate Colombo. It’s hardly like the Lankan team were functioning amid the opprobrium of poverty. So does anybody really like their job? And for us cheering from the sidelines, does cricket mean more than it actually should? Hogg’s perspective certainly seems rational. You don’t get miners complaining of having to work an extra shift, because they generally could do with the pay. Cricketers complaining of “too much cricket” really need to take a long hard look at themselves lest they appear as distasteful as Serena and Andre. Yes, there is a lot of cricket being played. But the last I heard, none of it was being played for free. Also, given that one half of the game – on average - is spent (unless you’re AB de Villiers) in the dressing room with your feet up, it hardly seems the most physically demanding of sports. In a relative sense, cricket has got to be one of the least physically demanding of sports. The recent South Africa v Sri Lanka series coverage sported the “Player Tracker”, which analyses how much sprinting, jogging or walking a player does. For the fast bowlers this would go occasionally up to nearly a kilometre of sprinting over a session. Compare that with a football midfielder, who runs close to 15 kilometres, almost non-stop, over 90 minutes. Cricket’s superstars need to do more to enhance their status as role models. Proactively. Merely not getting caught with your pants down is not enough. Especially in South Asia, where it has far fewer sports to compete with, cricket can be a primary tool in shaping social attitudes. In Australia, England, South Africa and New Zealand, rugby, football and several other sports share the limelight with cricket. Asia’s sporting ambassadors have little or no competition, and like Spiderman before them, they must discharge their great power with great responsibility. Sachin Tendulkar, regardless of his place on batting’s Mt Olympus, has conducted himself exemplarily in this regard. But do we have enough Sachins? Has Sachin too, apart from being the face of everything, from eggs to car batteries, done enough to promote the sporting values that we should seek to cultivate? Individually his work rate and dedication would suggest he has. It is not his sole responsibility, though. It is also time that we as fans ask ourselves what we expect from the objects of our adoration. Mindless entertainment as a result of their lovelessly honed skill, or role models that we can proudly valourise for our children. ]]> tag:blogs.espncricinfo.com,2012:/diffstrokes//139.27110 2012-01-23T11:58:55Z 2012-02-07T06:20:40Z

Michael Jeh George's Bailey's impish smile and twinkling eyes convey a sense of irreverence that befits the shortest form of the game © Getty Images
Some things are meant to be. Some leaders are born that way. The first time I met George Bailey, I had this premonition that he would one day captain Australia. And so it has come to pass. Bailey will break a long tradition in Australian cricket, captaining his country on international debut. Apart from in the very first Test that Australia played in the late 19th century, has there has never been another cricketer who has made his international debut as skipper? Lee Germon captained in his first Test for New Zealand, but he had played an ODI before that. Naturally, any country playing their first ever international match, or their first match after a hiatus, will have a captain making his debut, but for an established team, can anyone think of another debutant skipper? To George Bailey then - what do we know of him? Decent cricketer of course, not in the best form of his life but that can soon change in Twenty20 cricket; an excellent fielder (who isn't these days amongst Australian batsmen?) and clearly rated as an astute tactician. Many cricketers could lay claim to these qualities of course so George has no absolute monopoly in this regard. What struck me when I first met him as a young man attending the Centre of Excellence in Brisbane were his standout leadership qualities. I had never seen him hit a cricket ball at this point but something about the easy manners and friendly nature of this young man just stood out. Decent cricketer? Well, clearly he was at the Centre of Excellence so that much was assumed, but it was the decency of his character that really shone through within the first few minutes of making his acquaintance. ]]> If, may well have been written about a boy like this: a cricketer for the old-timers, captaining a format of the game that is all about the young 'uns. He'll walk that fine line with easy grace. ]]> tag:blogs.espncricinfo.com,2012:/diffstrokes//139.27067 2012-01-20T19:16:24Z 2012-02-07T06:21:01Z

Mike Holmans If it was the First World War, England's batsmen would have been lined up against the wall for gormlessness © Getty Images
As Senna the Soothsayer used to say in Up Pompeii, “Woe, woe, and thrice woe!” Except that she was usually wrong, whereas it is the only sensible reaction to England's dismal performance in the first Test against Pakistan, in Dubai. The bowlers have little to be ashamed of: on a pitch of that quality, keeping Pakistan to under 350 was a pretty decent showing, and most of them showed at least some fight with the bat. But the batsmen! In the first innings, Matt Prior showed what could be done by someone prepared to be watchful and play with care – which doesn't mean no boundary-hitting, just that you only attempt the biggish shot when it is properly on and there aren't fielders where you want to put the ball. Jonathan Trott in the second innings looked to have the right idea but was not able to keep it going. Those glimpses apart, the top seven can be glad this is not the British Army in the First World War, or they would have been lined up against a wall today and shot for gormlessness in the face of the enemy. Granted, Umar Gul and Saeed Ajmal are very good bowlers, but there is little need to help them out by wrapping your wicket in fancy paper, tying a ribbon round it and presenting it to them in a gesture of wild generosity.]]> However, I am not yet drawing any conclusions. England not only talk the talk about bouncing back, but have been walking the walk as well. They have won the Tests immediately following each of their last four losses, at least two of which have been as abject as this one. It is an impressive record of reaction to defeat: any assessment of their likely chances in the next game have to take that into account. And it is hard to believe that they will be quite as bad next time round. They have all played enough cricket to know what they are supposed to be doing, even if only a couple of them even gave a hint of such knowledge on this occasion. This is whistling to keep one's spirits up, to be sure, but eternal optimism is the hallmark of the cricket fan – at least until it becomes horribly apparent that the team is in fact dreadful and one just has to start finding humour in their haplessness. Don't get me wrong. I am in no way trying to belittle what Pakistan achieved, nor am I suggesting that they don't go into the next match as deserved favourites. This was my first viewing of them since the unfortunate events in England and they look a good unit. They are well led and have some outstanding bowling. I wouldn't say that their batting line-up is world-beating, but it is equally apparent that it isn't short of character or competence. But, as with England, I'm not going to draw firm conclusions from one match. There is no way of knowing how Pakistan will react to thrashing the world No. 1 team until they play the next game. I am not talking about Pakistan's famed inconsistency – there is not all that much recent evidence of it, after all – but they are talking up the victory in a way ominously familiar to England supporters. England have been known to exhibit cup-final syndrome, following an outstanding win with a lax, overconfident performance next time out, and there's no guarantee that Pakistan won't succumb to the same complacence. If you want to crow about how brilliant Pakistan are and how a team as awful as England does not deserve its ranking, it might be as well to have the grace to wait until that suspicion is confirmed by the match in Abu Dhabi. tag:blogs.espncricinfo.com,2012:/diffstrokes//139.27017 2012-01-17T11:29:30Z 2012-02-07T06:21:24Z

Michael Jeh Australia won the Galle Test inside four days, yet the pitch was slammed © AFP
Let's get a few things straight before I make my point; unequivocally, Australia has clearly been the better team these last few weeks. In all aspects of the game, they have batted, bowled and fielded with superior skill. Michael Clarke has captained astutely, the coaching staff has prepared them superbly, they've handled the conditions much better than India and the selectors have also made the right calls. No excuses - just damn good cricket on all fronts. Unlike most other sports, tennis and golf notwithstanding, one of the great charms about cricket is that it is played on surfaces that require different skills to master. The great players and teams have been able to succeed on whatever pitches they had to play on, even if they sometimes lost a crucial toss and had to cope with a green first-day seamer, a crumbling turner on days 4 & 5, a pitch that developed huge cracks or one that started to shoot through at ankle height. I don't subscribe to the view that there is necessarily such a thing as a "bad pitch" (so long as it is not dangerous). Both teams get to choose their final XI's before the game begins, they have a 50-50 chance of winning the toss and they have to then adapt, even thrive, in those conditions. It's the same for both teams. This notion that there's something nasty and sinister about a "home" pitch is just rubbish. The home team is perfectly entitled to prepare a pitch that suits their agenda and it is up to the opposition to choose a suitable XI to combat those conditions. If they don't have the skills to adapt to those alien pitch characteristics, that's nobody else's fault but their own. That's the beauty of international cricket where we get to see a wide range of skills in vastly differing circumstances. What I do think is laughable is this notion that only pitches that are hard and fast and true are "good" pitches. Who decided on that benchmark? I love watching the ball flying through throat height at the WACA, I love watching the medium pacers nipping it about at Headingley and I love a dusty turner in Mumbai. Watching any of the great players score runs on these pitches gives us mere mortals a glimpse of the versatility of their techniques and of their mental powers. ]]> Perth Test vs India - 701 runs scored, the game finished just after lunch on the third day and no one scored a century in the last innings. India could not score at even 3 runs-per-over, but the pitch was good enough for Australia to score at 4.83, with David Warner making more in one innings than India did in either of their two innings. Good pitch. No excuses. Let's think back a few months to the first Test at Galle when Australia and Sri Lanka met. There was widespread criticism of the pitch but Australia still won the Test because they played better cricket. A total of 841 runs scored and it finished well into the fourth day. The pitch was good enough for Mahela Jayawardene to score a century in the last innings. No excuses. A few years earlier, Australians were much aggrieved with the pitch at The Oval for the final Ashes Test of that series. A total 1213 runs were scored on that allegedly dreadful pitch at a run rate of over 3 per over, it went deep into the fourth day and Michael Hussey scored 121 in the last innings. No excuses? I remember hearing the bleating from 10, 000 miles away. If the pitch was that much of a dustbowl, why did they not select Nathan Hauritz? Whose fault was it that they went into it with a four-pronged pace attack, despite having Shane Watson in the team as an extra seamer. I'm all for fast bouncy pitches in Australia when we face a team that is traditionally weak in that department. I'm all for spinning tracks when Australia face teams who are brim to overflowing with fast bowlers (West Indies in Sydney in the 1980s). I'm all for home teams preparing pitches that suit their strengths and opposition teams who have to learn to cope. But don't tell me that a pitch that only produced 701 runs and finished before the halfway mark is a good pitch because Australia happened to win whereas another pitch in another country where 1213 runs were scored and finished late on the fourth day with a superb Hussey century was a poor one. Good pitches come in all colours - they're not just good pitches because we win on them. No excuses. ]]> tag:blogs.espncricinfo.com,2012:/diffstrokes//139.27008 2012-01-17T06:41:12Z 2012-02-07T06:21:36Z

A terrible racial slur in one culture is your everyday greeting in another

Shanaka Amarasinghe Leslie Mathew Kohli was quite Australian after winning the U-19 World Cup in 2008 © AFP
Recently Virat Kohli was fined for showing his middle finger to the Sydney Hill crowd in response to insults, that Kohli described as the “worst he’s ever heard”. Which brings us to the reference points Kohli probably has, and the cultural dichotomies in a cricketing world that is held together purely and exclusively by its appreciation of the game. History tells us that Kohli is not averse to a bit of good old swearing himself. When but a wee lad, and captain of the U-19 World Cup-winning side some years ago, he came under justified criticism for the hostility of his celebration – one that would have made Captain Haddock blush in its choice of language. Judging by his general demeanour on the field, Kohli looks an intense bloke who can handle himself. But appearances can be misleading. The U-19 victory celebration showed that, for anthropological reasons that we cannot go into here, the release of tension and emotion generally manifests itself in fairly offensive language. Kohli, in taking offence and reacting to the Sydney crowd, seems to be holding them to a higher standard than he holds himself. Aussie crowds are passionate about their sports. They have also been passionate about hating the enemy, and aren’t shy about making that fact known. These are presumably qualities that Kohli shares. So does he have the right to react as he does? Perhaps. Perhaps not. While discussing the whole hand gesture and subsequent fine, a Sri Lankan friend who had spent a lot of his life in Perth disclosed the abuse he took from the crowds at the WACA. He revealed that he and his family had been asked to maybe repatriate to their ancestral homeland - in not so polite a fashion. A discerning cricket fan who had grown up in Western Australia and had been disciplined during his schooldays by Tom Moody’s father (who happened to be his principal at school), he remarked how distressed he was by the fear of imminent physical violence. This sort of abuse is not on, and it is no surprise that evictions of spectators from Australian grounds are commonplace. But this wasn’t exactly Kohli’s experience was it? He was never in any real physical danger, and his lot was not any better or worse than that of any opposition fielder on an Australian boundary line. The fact, though, is that in South Asia, slights against mothers and/or sisters are viewed in a very dim light. This is what riled Kohli. It is the same sort of cultural difference that led to the unsavoury scenes between Harbhajan Singh and Andrew Symonds in 2008. Legend has it that Harbajhan called Symonds a monkey, which can be construed as among the worst racial slurs to aim at someone of Symonds’ lineage. The subsequent negotiations - sorry, investigations - led to the conclusion that Harbhajan had, in fact, used a Hindi phrase that sounds like “monkey” instead. The fact that this word was closer in meaning to what the crowd may have insinuated to Kohli, didn’t seem to matter, because it was not racist. Funnily enough, in Sri Lanka (I can’t speak for other countries), calling someone a monkey is almost a term of endearment or affection. Therein lies the rub. The cultural divide between cultures in the way English is spoken, understood and assimilated will always make cricket, on occasion, a volcano. At other times, though, it is a melting pot – without, I would argue, the need to be sanitised. What is needed is a little education. Asia does not carry the same sort of historical racial baggage that England, Australia or South Africa do. Similarly, the cultural mores and references of Asia are alien to straight-talking, no-nonsense non-Asians. If we all stopped being so uptight about it all and enjoyed the diversity, though, things might become far more interesting and inclusive. A case in point is congenital Western inability to grasp the Asian bob of the head. You know the one. The one that says “yes”, “no” and “maybe” in one economical swivel. It drives tourists bananas (oops, there’s the monkey theme again). Native English speakers in the cricketing world are used to a nod for a “yes”, or a horizontal shake of the head for “no”. This in-between bobbing does nothing but infuriate them, hilariously. And Asian teams will continue to infuriate with their niggle and cheekiness, and non-Asian teams will continue to be dominant and unwittingly offensive for no fault of either party. It’s what makes cricket fun. ]]> tag:blogs.espncricinfo.com,2012:/diffstrokes//139.26988 2012-01-15T11:50:04Z 2012-02-07T06:21:50Z

Michael Jeh He bats, he bowls, he catches ... and he does it all with proficiency © Getty Images
As someone who loves just about everything about South Africa, whenever the conversation turns to anything remotely resembling Africa, I'm all ears. I love the bushveld, the people who forge uncompromising and hard lives in that terrain and the attitude of the modern South Africans who have afforded me understated warmth and friendship. My experiences of its rainbow people make me far from a neutral in writing this article – let me state upfront that I'm one of South Africa's most vocal tourist ambassadors. So, loyalties declared, here's my thesis: is Jacques Kallis the King? This piece was prompted by a conversation I had last night with some of my best mates, Australians all of them, skilled cricketers who have played at a very high level and not usually prone to handing out accolades lightly. It all started with the predictable conversation about whether the great Indian batsmen of the current era were past their prime or not, and it then morphed into equally predictable comparisons between Ricky Ponting, Sachin Tendulkar, Brian Lara, Rahul Dravid and Jacques Kallis. Being knowledgeable cricketers themselves, this debate, pleasantly interrupted by the peeling of giant prawns, was an intelligent and mature discussion, free from the usual jingoistic limitations that can sometimes spoil these moments. All the great batsmen mentioned above are exactly that – no real argument as to their calibre. We added Kumar Sangakkara to that list, along with honourable mentions for the likes of Matthew Hayden, Mahela Jayawardene, Steve Waugh, Kevin Petersen and numerous others who are clearly fine players but just out of that exclusive bracket mentioned in the previous paragraph. When we tried to actually pick our most valuable player from among those batsmen, I was delighted to hear a strong consensus pushing for Kallis as the greatest of them all.]]> It's almost heresy to have this sort of debate and even mention anyone but Tendulkar as the top man. I'm a great admirer of the Little Master, on and off the field, so it's more a compliment to Kallis than a slight to Tendulkar that we even considered Kallis in the same breath. We just came to the conclusion that in all aspects of the game, Kallis is the most under-rated cricketer to have ever played the game. The comparisons naturally turned to Sir Garfield Sobers. None of us could remember watching him play, so we were relying on legend and folklore passed down from our fathers. Again, a bit like Tendulkar, it is apparently a crime against cricket to compare any allrounder against Sobers but, fuelled by prawns and oysters, we were prepared to crunch the numbers. And we still stuck to our estimation that Kallis should be remembered amongst the top two or three cricketers to have ever played the game. His batting average, over a long career, is as good as it gets, barring The Don of course. It is his all-round game though that puts his achievements into context. When you add 20000-odd international runs, 500-odd wickets and over 300 catches (most of them in the slips), you really get a sense of Kallis' mental strength. For most of his career, he has carried South Africa’s batting. Tendulkar has done it to some extent but he had some great allies all through his career, from Mohammad Azharuddin to Sourav Ganguly to Virender Sehwag, Dravid and VVS Laxman. Ponting's genius, too, is undisputed but most of his career has been alongside other prolific and dominant batsmen, as well as a bowling unit that frequently ensured he was playing from a position of strength. Make no mistake – Ponting's innings often set up those situations so it is not meant as a criticism, merely an acknowledgement of his era in the baggy green. Brian Lara was arguably the one who had to carry more than even Kallis' burden singlehandedly and his place among the cricketing gods is secure but crucially, he didn't bowl. It's the bowling workload that clinched it for Kallis, in our opinions. Operating in the 135-140kph range for much of his career, concentrating hard at second slip in between and then batting at number three must have been an amazing burden on his mental and physical state. To his credit, he has rarely had an extended period out of the game through injury. His durability alone makes him worthy of the tag of "greatest cricketer of all time". His detractors will point to a relatively low scoring-rate and the perception that he may not have changed the course of a game with a breathtaking assault on a bowling attack, in the way that Tendulkar, Lara and Ponting have. Fair point, but this was also a man who contributed with the ball. His impact on a game of cricket may have been more subtle but no less valuable only because it was a slow-burn fuse. Comparing him to Sobers' Test record, the stats alone make it hard to split them apart. I could not determine Sobers' strike-rate but despite the romantic memories of yesteryear, I wonder if he scored much quicker than in the modern era. He would probably have scored quicker than Kallis' strike-rate of 45, but how much quicker? In terms of hundreds and fifties, Kallis has scored 96 in 150 Tests, at a rate close to 66%. In other words, he makes a score 50 or more in two out of three Tests that he plays in. Sobers has a similar rate, perhaps slightly lower. In 93 Tests, he got to 50 or more on 56 occasions. Not a whole lot separating them here. On the bowling front, Kallis' strike-rate is significantly higher than Sobers, 68 compared to 91. Kallis is also a shade ahead on average: 32 versus 34. Their catching records are equally impressive, more than one catch per Test. So Kallis loses nothing in comparison on a purely statistical basis. You could argue that Sobers played in an era when there was a lot less cricket played, therefore opposition teams were a lot fresher. Fair point but that argument works both ways. Sobers himself would have been less fatigued. You could argue that as a batsman, Sobers played in an era before the third umpire replays were in operation, therefore, if umpires honoured the tradition that benefit of the doubt goes to the batsman, he might have escaped the odd close decision that Kallis did not survive. The standard of fielding is generally accepted to be much higher in the modern game but that is probably balanced out by the smaller boundaries and better cricket bats that Kallis has enjoyed. You can reverse those arguments when talking about their bowling records. A few hundred prawns the wiser, we moved on to more important topics like which one of us had behaved more disgracefully on past cricket tours and which one of us was the worst player among our group of friends. I won the latter category with some ease – there was no need to debate that one for too long. This was not so much about demoting any other cricketers’ achievements but to elevate Kallis to the highest possible plane, to recognise him as one of the very greatest cricketers to have ever played the game. For neutral Australian cricket fans to unequivocally endorse this fact, says it all really. For us, last night, Kallis was indeed king. tag:blogs.espncricinfo.com,2012:/diffstrokes//139.26962 2012-01-13T19:17:13Z 2012-02-07T06:22:05Z

Mike Holmans Chris Tremlett has acquired an aura of genuine menace © Getty Images
Tim Bresnan's injury is a big problem for England in only one respect: they lose their mascot. Every Test in which Bresnan has played has been an England victory, so whatever talismanic luck he brings will be gone. It's also fair to say that none of his potential replacements offers as much with the bat, but England bat pretty deep even without him. From the two warm-up games – and how pleasant it is to see England carrying on with playing properly competitive games of cricket in the lead-up, Duncan Fletcher's 14-a-side two-day net affairs being properly consigned to the dustbin – we know that Steven Finn is the fastest, Chris Tremlett the awkward-bounciest, Graham Onions the swingingest and Monty Panesar the spinningest of the candidates and that they are all in pretty good nick. So it's going to be down to the captain and coach to decide what they want, and that will presumably depend a bit on what the pitch looks like. In the absence of detailed acquaintance with the surface, I shall plump for Tremlett. I am very well aware that there are strong cases for Finn and Panesar, but I think Onions is a couple of yards behind them in the queue.]]> As a bowler, Tremlett is the most likely of the England bowlers to produce the nasty bouncer – the one that rears up from a fairly full length into the ribcage. And the best thing about it is that he doesn't do it all that often: somewhat unusually for a very tall bowler, he spends most of his time threatening the stumps rather than send the ball whistling spectacularly but generally harmlessly past the batsman's head. He knows the value of making the batsman play. However, I think his greatest quality now is his scariness. It was not always thus. When he first played for England against India in 2007, it wasn't that he didn't bowl decently but that he didn't look as though he believed he ought to be there. He seemed like the fellow who was surprised to get an invitation to an exclusive party and then spends his time doing his best to look inconspicuous. There was nothing about him which made a batsman quake. The most obvious change in him when he returned to the colours on last winter's Ashes tour was that he had acquired an aura of genuine menace. There is nothing shy about this big, quiet man: he is obviously quite composed, a serious man going about serious business. As he patrols his part of the field, he has the air of someone for whom crowds instinctively part because it does not look at all wise to get in his way. Tremlett does not have Curtly Ambrose's glare, but there is much else which is very similar in his demeanour. I sometimes thought he was an escapee from a mafia movie, in which he would be accompanying Don Strosso as the godfather politely informed someone that it would be appreciated if they would settle their debt otherwise Tremmo here would be paying them a visit, an outcome which would be most regrettable. [Cut to close-up on face of debtor as all the colour drains out.] This is not a case of “working on his body language”, as the saying goes. Body language is simply a physical expression of a mental state: of course one can act for a time, but no-one can keep up an act for a whole day in the field. His demeanour is simply evidence that he is now completely comfortable with being a top-class pace bowler. If he gets the nod, he will no doubt be determined to do well enough to make himself the incumbent who won't be dislodged. I'm betting that he can do it. tag:blogs.espncricinfo.com,2012:/diffstrokes//139.26910 2012-01-10T05:37:13Z 2012-02-07T06:22:21Z

Michael Jeh Plain silly © AFP
Watched Luke Wright bat in a Twenty20 game for Melbourne Stars yesterday. Watched Luke Wright score a very good hundred. Watched Luke Wright kiss his Melbourne Stars helmet. Thought "how ridiculous", switched the telly off and watched an African safari documentary instead. Watched an impala escape a lion's clutches and waited for celebration. Nothing happened. Impala went back to feeding. Watching my two young sons, six and eight years old, playing cricket in the backyard and taking 'classic catches' in the swimming pool this morning. Mental note: must have quiet words to them about watching too much TV and excess celebration after every achievement. They hyper-celebrate every wicket, every catch and every boundary with actions that exactly mimic what they see from the big boys. Can't be having that in this household! My earliest memories of on-field celebrations date back to the West Indies teams of the early 1980s when their high-fiving style set new standards in 'cool'. They did it with nonchalance and a certain calypso panache that just oozed with the sort of reggae rhythm that fitted in so perfectly with the way guys like Joel Garner, Michael Holding and Viv Richards moved. The high-five is now part of every cricket celebration at any level, even in backyard cricket, testament no doubt to the powerful legacy of cool that those West Indians left behind them. It has even found its way into other sports and into mainstream life where any achievement is heralded with the obligatory high-five. In an ironic way, it has devalued the gesture at the same time as it has elevated it to the ultimate compliment to those West Indians giants who were actually so smooth, so cool, so arrogant almost, without even trying too hard. It just seemed to come so naturally to them.]]> pose when he had that amazing period a few years ago. Something about his physique and the way he played the game allowed him to pull it off when he made a crucial breakthrough that changed the course of an Ashes series perhaps. The pose lost its power to inspire as it went from being a spontaneous gesture to an orchestrated personal brand. Shahid Afridi just looks plain silly when he does it after every catch, every run-out and every chewed ball. Perhaps the very first time he did it was at a crucial point in a match when emotions were running high and his googly completely fooled a batsman and so changed the course of a game - most of us tend to love the unscripted drama of those sort of moments. Now that it has become a standard routine that he probably practices in the nets or in the mirror, the romance has gone I'm afraid. He just looks vain and self-centered. Imran Tahir carries on in similar vein whenever he gets a wicket, even if it's a tail-ender. It devalues the moment when he actually takes a big wicket. Hashim Amla on the other hand is almost the opposite - his celebrations are muted and seem to come from a deep sense of inner-peace. Fidel Edwards’ celebrations are clownish. From the aeroplane imitation to the Corey Collymore patented 'windscreen wiper' thing, they just look rehearsed and artificial. All the more ridiculous for someone like Collymore, nothing more than a handy medium-pacer by international standards, creating his own personal style of celebration. Malcom Marshall, Michael Holding, Curtley Ambrose - different story altogether but Corey Collymore? Brett Lee's piledriver action or his airborne 'heel click' thing was good to watch the first few times or when it was an important breakthrough after a sustained piece of fast bowling. It looked cheap when he once went through the routine after a batsman was caught at long-off. Fortunately, age has mellowed him and he now seems to know when to perform.]]> tag:blogs.espncricinfo.com,2012:/diffstrokes//139.26839 2012-01-05T11:49:42Z 2012-02-07T06:22:33Z

Mike Holmans Andrew Strauss may have to rest James Anderson or Stuart Broad for a game in the UAE © AFP
It looks like I picked the wrong time to come back to Test cricket. I took a break from keeping a detailed eye on it, and a whole rash of close and exciting Tests broke out. Now that I'm back in cricket-obsessed mode, though, we have two Tests going on where the excitement, such as it is, lies in personal milestones: as I write, neither Sri Lanka nor India stand an earthly chance of winning their games and it's merely a question of whether they can stave off defeat. There is some talk of the visitors being at a great disadvantage because of the unfamiliar conditions, but in India's case it just won't wash: Virender Sehwag, Rahul Dravid, Sachin Tendulkar, and VVS Laxman have been to Australia often enough before. Sri Lanka have somewhat more excuse, but they have already won a match in the series, so they haven't failed dismally. Of course, one reason I'm not very sympathetic is that this is going to be the year of unfamiliar conditions for England. ]]> They will be playing nine of their 15 scheduled Tests in 2012 in the UAE, Sri Lanka and India. Should they succeed in their endeavours, it will be impossible to deny that they deserve to be World No. 1; should they fail, we can all start pointing fingers and talk about them being home-track bullies. It is unfamiliar territory for the fans, for sure. It has been over 50 years since England have been the top Test team for any length of time (they were probably No. 1 briefly at the end of the 1970s when most top players were contracted to Kerry Packer), so it's very odd to have to contemplate each series as one they are supposed to win rather than worrying about how they will frustrate the huge threat posed by the opponents. From the behaviour of Australian and Indian fans during their periods at the top, apparently it is required that England fans indulge in lots of chest-puffing and blowhard declarations of eternal supremacy, but most of us are so out of practice that we have little idea how to go about it. Forgive me if what follows has insufficient braggadocio. On paper, certainly, England ought to trounce Pakistan in Dubai and Abu Dhabi (I have a horrible temptation to think of these places as Flintstone-land and just call them all Yabba-dabba-doo, but I'll try to resist it). However, as India have been finding these last few months, Test cricket is played on surfaces composed of varying quantities of grass and mud rather than paper, which puts a rather different complexion on things. While plenty of attention is being paid to England's batsmen's alleged weaknesses against quality spin, to me the real question is how they intend to manage the fitness of their pace bowlers. The head-to-head match-up between Graeme Swann and Saeed Ajmal ought to be a real treat, but neither of them can bowl from both ends, and England's second spinner is exceedingly likely to be Kevin Pietersen, at least until he discovers an injury which prevents him from bowling. I simply don't see them picking Monty Panesar and dropping a batsman – because the logical one to leave out is Jonathan Trott, as he is the least proficient against spin, and they are not going to do that. So there looks like being a great deal of work for whichever three of James Anderson, Tim Bresnan, Stuart Broad, Steven Finn and Chris Tremlett get picked for any one game. A great deal of work on bounceless pitches with no hope of swing assistance from a heavy atmosphere, in temperatures which pasty Europeans find most uncomfortable. Consistency of selection has served England very well this last year or so, but I think they are going to have to be very hard-nosed about resting pace bowlers. The Two Andrews, Strauss and Flower, enjoy enough respect from the squad for them to be able to rest Anderson or Broad or whomever without causing major resentment, but expect a lot of transparent flim-flam about bowlers picking up minor niggles while taking five-fors: 5 for 132 is a lot more exhausting than 5 for 48. Whoever plays for England, I expect an entertaining series. Pakistan know they are underdogs but their pre-series talk has been all about being up for the challenge of exceeding their previous bests, which bespeaks a confidence that was entirely lacking in most teams' hopeful noises about giving the Australians of the last decade a good game. The general advice in The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, apart from “Don't Panic!”, is “Expect the unexpected.” In my copy, the entry for Pakistan Cricket Team repeats that advice in upper-case bold underline. I'm looking forward to it. tag:blogs.espncricinfo.com,2011:/diffstrokes//139.26740 2011-12-28T11:25:31Z 2012-02-07T06:22:45Z

Shanaka Amarasinghe Leslie Mathew This year has been the gestation period for Test cricket's rebirth © Getty Images
Apparently the end of the world is signalled by the rise of two suns. Now this hasn’t happened yet, but a year with two World Cups in it comes uncomfortably close for my liking: 2011 saw the cricket World Cup played in March, and the rugby World Cup in September – so perhaps the end of the world as we know it, is nigh? Hopefully not, though, for there are plenty of stars rising on the Test cricket horizon to herald not an end but a new beginning for the original format of the game. This year also saw two subcontinental cricketers of substance making their voices heard. Kumar Sangakkara, indisputably Sri Lanka’s greatest Test batsman, and Rahul Dravid, arguably India’s equivalent, called with passion for the revitalisation of Test cricket. Their plea may or may not have fallen on deaf ears as far as the game’s administration is concerned. The long-awaited Test Championship seems to be a non-starter, and the traditional powerhouses seem to be dictating who plays whom, where and when. Sri Lanka have long been requesting more tours to England, South Africa and Australasia, and when those opportunities are provided, perhaps, Test cricket will be a more equal-opportunity genre. However, until the ICC wakes from its short-format slumber, Dravid’s and Sangakkara’s peers have taken it upon themselves to raise the profile of Test cricket. It may be that the cricketers have been influenced by the astrological shifts taking place unbeknownst to us. The sages have led us to believe that 2012 will usher us into the Age of Aquarius. A more enlightened, spiritual, philanthropic age (i.e. Test cricket), freeing us from the shackles of the Age of Pisces, which is marked by organisational structures pursued and protected through violent means (i.e. the birth of T20 cricket). So perhaps the end of the world in 2012 is not really the end of the world, merely the end of the world as we know it. Dravid, during his Bradman oration, lamented the fact that he was playing Test cricket, and sometimes even ODI cricket, to sparse houses in India. With the following it has in the subcontinent, it seems inexplicable that Eden Gardens should not be packed to capacity every time India plays. But that, Dravid evidences, is the state of things as they are. There can be no doubt, assuming that Sangakkara and Dravid speak for a majority of their colleagues, that Test cricket is the preferred format for players themselves. It is what they consider the toughest test. Test matches are a cricketer’s Wimbledon. ]]> Be that as it may, perhaps the recent upheavals in Test cricket have led to some introspection. And with the planets contributing their collective might, Test cricketers have become more altruistic, more Aquarian. The not-quite-tied Test between India and West Indies was second to none for its drama. The low-scoring yet tense second Test between the Black Caps and the baggy-green caps was a riveting affair, and the Boxing Day matches, in both South Africa and Australia, are proving to be superb contests. I’m not sure whether it’s just me, but close, tense, hard-fought Test matches are far more memorable than down-to-the-wire ODI or T20 games. Similarly, the frequency of close Tests, as opposed to closer short games, has taken a major leap forward. The ODI that goes down to the last over with both teams still very much in it is a scarce commodity. More so the T20 game that does so. Instead of fulfilling the promise of excitement on tap, a vast majority of T20 games end up being decided fairly early on in the piece - meaning spectators have to be satisfied instead with the number and size of sixes hit, a swashbuckling individual score or scantily clad cheerleaders. Given the nature of the formats, it stands to reason that T20s and ODIs should probably be decided in the final over more often than not. The marked absence of such results can lead us to conclude either that the balance of power in world cricket is lopsided, where some teams are very good and others average, or that the formats are flawed. I seek to draw no conclusions, merely mention something that seems empirically incongruous. Going back to newly reborn Test cricket: we have seen some stellar new performances. Vernon Philander has four Michelles in three Tests, plus a match bag. Virat Kohli’s performances look like he will be one for the Indian future. And Marchant de Lange and Dinesh Chandimal have signaled their intent on debut with seven wickets and an attacking fifty. I’ve been involved in recent Facebook discussions on what a good target for a fourth-innings chase might be, and friends call to ask whether I saw that last spell by Pattinson, Steyn, or now even Umesh Yadav. Ravichandran Ashwin, after making a name for himself in limited-overs cricket, has become a century-scoring offspinner who adequately fills the Harbajhan void. The world of Test cricket is exciting. It’s not the end, it’s a new dawn. Hooray! tag:blogs.espncricinfo.com,2011:/diffstrokes//139.26722 2011-12-27T07:22:31Z 2012-02-07T06:23:02Z

Michael Jeh Everyone, including Hussey, knew the rules of engagement before that match started © AFP
Here we go again - another Border Gavaskar Trophy on the line and it starts to get "tasty" after just one day. The Internet era merely serves to heighten the tensions because unlike the old-fashioned 'Letters to the Editor' which were usually written with more eloquence and vetted by editors, online blogs are much more raw and unfettered in both passion and vitriol. It's a classic Beauty and the Beast situation where we get to see what people are really thinking, protected by anonymity and distance, unhindered by rules about grammar and spelling, unafraid to vent opinions that range from sincere passion to patriotic fervour gone mad. I've seen some of that already this morning with reference to the DRS controversy. Some of it has been entertaining and illuminative whilst some of it has been just plain idiotic. That's the world wide web for you. From what I've read this morning, it seems to me that some bloggers have just lost their sense of balance and perspective, blinded by their bias for or against the two countries involved. Here's my attempt to bring some common-sense and logic back to the debate, arguing from a neutral position of indifference as to who wins but with a strong desire to see the Indian and Australians fans not rip each other to pieces with emotive arguments that go beyond mere cricketing matters. Many incidents over the last few years have unnecessarily damaged relations between us, starting with the infamous Sydney Test when Harbajhan Singh and Andrew Symonds clashed and extending off the field to more serious incidents involving student bashings and loose talk on both sides of the Indian Ocean. Let's start with the silly comments being bandied regarding the DRS not being used because it allows the Indians to cheat. It's not the ICC who are necessarily to blame, neither are the Indian cricketers themselves culpable. It was a decision agreed to at board level. Regardless of whether the BCCI has too much power or not, a topic for another debate altogether, the cricketers themselves are simply playing by the rules that were agreed before the series began. It's not like the Indian players suddenly introduced the playing condition when Michael Hussey walked out to bat. Everyone, including Hussey, knew the rules of engagement before that match started. Umpires make mistakes. That happens. Disappointed as Hussey may have been, surely he is not suggesting that he has never benefited from similar decisions going in his favour, either as individual or as a team. The accidental fact that it was a first-ball duck when his career is on the line shouldn't change anything. I'm not even sure if Hussey is complaining too much, apart from that initial show of frustration for which a man of his calibre and disciplinary record can surely be forgiven. It's the irrational fools with short memories who are quick to start labelling the opposition players as cheats who are the real cheats in my opinion.]]> Short memories? Anyone remember when these teams last met during the New Year’s Test? Symonds smashed the cover off the ball and chose to stand his ground. He was simply playing by the rules and any Indian fan who called him a cheat should be similarly embarrassed today. Symonds' innings defined the course of that Test match but the bottom line is that he was simply playing by the rules of the day. He was no more or less of a cheat than anybody was yesterday (unless Symonds himself is one of those mystery bloggers hiding behind a ridiculous pseudonym, venting irrational spleen to fuel tension). What about the Peter Siddle no-ball incident today when he castled Rahul Dravid? The replay reprieved Dravid, just like it did for Michael Clarke at the Gabba a few weeks ago. Dravid didn't ask for the replay - the umpire called for it himself because he was unsure, just like he did for Clarke who went on to score a big hundred. Both teams were aware that the umpires had this option available to them. It's not like Marais Erasmus made it up on the spot just to try and favour India. The only person at fault was Siddle for not keeping his foot behind the line. Australian supporters are entitled to be disappointed with the Hussey dismissal yesterday but if you hail from a cricketing culture that has always played by the code where batsmen do not walk and leave all decisions to the umpires, surely you have to accept that you take the rough with the smooth. How does yesterday's chain of events make the Indians cheats? Does that also make the Aussies cheats when they nick one and don't walk? I find it particularly amusing when Australian fans complain about genuine umpiring mistakes. As far back as I can recall, from junior cricket ranks upwards, our kids have been brought up on the notion that you only walk when your car has broken down. Leave all decisions to the umpires and if it's your lucky day, that's cricket. That system is fraught with hypocrisy because I've seen many batsmen scream like stuck pigs when they get a bad one, I've seen many fielding teams happily accept decisions when they acknowledge amongst themselves in the team huddle that the umpire clearly got it wrong and most amusingly, I've seen fielders who give the batsman an absolute gobful for not walking when he nicks it! If that's not hypocrisy, what is? Surely a system that is built around living with the umpire's verdict is inherently in danger of choking on its own words if they abuse batsmen for not walking when he gets away with one? Under these rules, the only ones who are cheats are the ones who want the rules to work both ways. And they accuse the BCCI of opportunism? Everyone's so busy accusing each other of dastardly deeds that they forget that it was a genuine mistake by the umpires. That happens. It works both ways. I read some ridiculous comments overnight that seemed to insinuate that the Indians opted against using DRS because it would allow them (the Indians) to get away with cheating. Where's the logic in that comment? That logic only holds true if the BCCI can somehow exert enough influence to infiltrate the game with crooked umpires. If that's the accusation, it is a very serious one indeed and completely destroys the fabric of the game. It's also a gross insult to the umpiring fraternity who clearly make mistakes on the field (as do the players) but would be appalled to think that the some cricket fans actually believe this is so. Any serious cricket follower who has watched the actual on-field umpiring incidents could not possibly think that there is a corrupt system in place that favours India more than other teams. It's just plain ridiculous. The long-term solutions lie in getting the respective governing bodies to agree on a system that is acceptable to all stakeholders, cricketers, fans, umpires and cricket boards alike. There's a much bigger debate to be had as to whether the technology is reliable enough to be used universally and whether the BCCI should be allowed veto rights based on their power alone. That's a political debate though and one that doesn't really figure in some of the blog comments from all fans who seem hell-bent on accusing each other of racist bias. What's new about a system that is controlled by the most powerful? We live in a world that runs entirely along those principles where the major industrial nations write the rules and everyone is forced to play by those rules. Those who choose to play by different rules get bombed into submission. One man's terrorist is another man's liberator. The debate about whether the BCCI has too much power or not is a worthy cause to contribute to but it has nothing whatsoever to do with whether players or umpires are cheats. All parties agreed to the system before the first ball was bowled. Just because yesterday's decisions may have come at the start of Ed Cowan's career and the end of Hussey's doesn't make it an act of foul play. By the end of the summer, I am sure the Indian batsmen too will cop some poor decisions so let's hope we don't see a repeat of the sanctimonious hand-wringing and ugly accusations against the umpires or the team who dare to appeal for a nick. Even if it involves Sachin Tendulkar. If he doesn't want to risk a poor decision, tell him not to make a mistake then! Clearly that's what we expect of umpires these days. So to those vitriolic and irrational bloggers out there who seem to thrive on cowardly insults across a forum where daft nicknames hide their true identity, try not to confuse on-field decisions with agreements made by cricket boards and the ICC. Those are systemic decisions that are as much about politics and power as it is about what is best for the game. I'm certainly not one of those who believes that any governing body, BCCI and Cricket Australia included, necessarily act in the best interests of the game. They act in the best interests of themselves. But let's divorce the players and umpires from some of the grubby individuals who skulk in the corridors of power. Some men are still honourable. Some men still make mistakes. They make honourable mistakes. That's not cheating. tag:blogs.espncricinfo.com,2011:/diffstrokes//139.26681 2011-12-23T08:35:23Z 2012-02-07T06:23:15Z

Michael Jeh If a pure performance-based system came into operation, players could become selfish and honest mistakes could harbour lingering resentment © Getty Images
Lost amid the hype of the launch of the Big bash League has been a much more interesting and significant event in Australian cricket – the suggestion that Cricket Australia might move to a more performance-based contract system. This will be a radical move for a system that has long been rooted in the notion of the aura surrounding the baggy green cap (substitute canary yellow for ODI's). The suggestion is reckoned to have its genesis in the Argus Report but I fear that if taken too far, it will fail to have the sort of effect that similar strategies may have in the corporate arena that Don Argus is familiar with. To a certain extent, the performance-based system is already in place anyway. A 25-man contract list that is refreshed each year is clearly based on the most highly rated players, though with an eye to the future more than a reflection of the past. If it was based purely on performance rather than potential, there can be no reasonable explanation why Brad Hodge hasn't been in this list for the last few years; his limited-overs form has been nothing short of brilliant in recent times. So clearly the performance-based system that is currently in place is a forward-looking exercise, mindful no doubt of past form but not tied exclusively to such easily measurable statistics like runs and wickets. Just ask Simon Katich. Actually, don't ask Katich – he might speak his mind and that's a breach of corporate protocol apparently. Hell hath no fury like an opening batsman scorned and all that jazz …]]> It would be unrealistic to pine for a system that was based on the incredibly strong Sheffield Shield structure that has been in place for many years, most notably in the late 1980s and early 1990s. That was a performance-based system too in the purest sense but it had its roots in Grade cricket. There were no real contracts in place, just state squads that you dropped in and out of based on form. If you consistently scored runs in 1st Grade, you got selected for your state team. If your form dipped, you went back to club cricket. With the need to now provide some form of job protection or security for professional cricketers, that system is no longer viable in that pure form. I fear, though, that it might go too far in the other extreme if Australian contracts became performance-driven to a level that creates uncertainty and fear instead of stability and job security. The problem I have with this proposed new system is that it might make players too selfish, nervous or jealous. It's only human nature to safeguard your own livelihood and that generally works in a normal office or factory environment, where it's not part of the job to run the risk of dropping catches off your colleague, running him out or sacrificing yourself for the team cause. If a pure performance-based system came into operation, there exists the very real possibility that players would naturally become selfish and honest mistakes would harbour lingering resentment. Take Katich for example – he's been involved in a few run-outs with Shane Watson. Katich has lost his place while Watson is a fixture in the team. Who's to say that if Katich had not been the batsman dismissed in those incidents, he wouldn't have scored heavily and would still be wearing the baggy green? "That's cricket," I hear you say, but it becomes harder to shrug your shoulders and write off your career with that careless catchphrase anymore. Likewise Mitchell Johnson, who was hanging on by the skin of his teeth in South Africa recently. Not only did he have to contend with the odd dropped catch but he might also start to question why he wasn't bowling downwind or into the rough or at the tail or with the new ball. So many conspiracy theories or bad luck stories can creep into the mindset of these guys who fear that they're going to be judged purely on numbers. If we had a system based purely on numbers, perhaps Shane Warne may never have got his chance at all. His Shield record wasn't spectacular but the selectors at the time recognised a streak of genius and backed their instincts. Under a new system that is purely performance-based (logically, that can only be retrospective because you can't perform in advance), Warne may have taken a lot longer to be called-up to the Australian team. Nathan Lyon is winning rave reviews now but clearly his selection was based more on nous than on numbers. The rotation system will need to be scrapped too if performance-based contracts come into play. Which player is going to happily agree to rest against a minnow team? Which top order batsman will volunteer to sit out a game on a green top against Dale Steyn, Vernon Philander and Morne Morkel? Which fast bowler will complain of some convenient hamstring soreness after he sees a flat pitch at the SSC in Colombo? Unless you can come up with a system that can also measure these variables, including qualities like courage, peer-respect and selflessness, you will have a yardstick that is utterly unsuited to sport. Cricket is not like athletics where you can simply measure someone against the clock or against the rest of the field in the same conditions. Winning or losing a toss can change a career. Team instructions, like "we need to score quickly to set up a declaration" might require a disclaimer to be signed before the batsman agrees to the T and C's. Cricket, by its very nature, despite being a numbers game that can be measured statistically, has too many variables to be judged by commercially accepted performance or HRM benchmarks. You need a system that still allows for genius and raw talent, and that something special that defies an accountant's scrutiny. It still needs to be a system that is underpinned by runs and wickets, though, because a complete disregard for those fundamentals just leaves players very confused about what they have to do to gain selection. Ed Cowan's selection is great news in that respect – he has done all that can be expected of the next cab in the queue and when another player lost form, the selectors showed every Shield cricketer in the country that there is a unerring logic to their process. That builds faith in the system. Paul Marsh, the astute and straight-talking boss of the Australian Cricketers' Association, has an excellent point when he asks if anyone else in the cricket set-up is subject to the performance measures that the administrators seem to be keen on imposing on the cricketers. If the 'suits' are keen to bring corporate incentive structures into the mix, does that apply to the hierarchy in Jolimont St too? After all, while the cricket team has undergone significant change since they slipped from being champions in all forms of the game, some if it through natural attrition (Warne, McGrath, Gilchrist, Hayden, Gillespie, the Waugh brothers) and some of it through culling (Katich, Hauritz, Hodge, Krejza, Hughes, Khawaja, Beer, the list goes on), has the same sword been wielded in management circles? I genuinely am unaware of the answer to that question so I have no hidden agenda for asking it, but it's merely to make the point that it is disingenuous to commission things like the Argus Report that tries to hold the cricketers accountable for the dip in the team's performance unless all 'team members' also wear the pain. What about the management team that presided over that period of disappointment? Is Katich entitled to ask if they are still holding on to their jobs? Generally speaking, I'm not a big fan of applying overtly corporatised HRM principles to a 'profession' that is still essentially a sport, with all the glorious uncertainties and vagaries that come with it. I worked for many years at a university where I saw brilliant academics promoted to managerial posts. They might be brilliant at analysing atoms under microscopes but they were woeful at running a business. It's hard to apply one set of benchmarks to a totally different skill-set. Bottom line question – will the new system lead to better performance? I doubt it. Try convincing me that Sachin Tendulkar will score more runs if he is offered more money. Likewise Kumar Sangakkara who hasn't even been paid his salary in full yet – I can't see a man of his calibre trying any less harder in Durban next week just because he received his long overdue paycheque. There's no easy solution but when business tries too hard to apply text book principles to sport, it just doesn't work. Some things defy logic. Cricket has long been a beast of that ilk. And I love her all the more for it. tag:blogs.espncricinfo.com,2011:/diffstrokes//139.26618 2011-12-19T04:27:57Z 2012-02-07T06:23:28Z

Michael Jeh To expect the fans to follow artificially created franchises (not teams) and engender the sort of tribal passion that characterises AFL and Rugby League is a serious error of judgement © Getty Images
Okay, I'm going to go out on a limb and state my predictions upfront. Right or wrong, at least I won't be accused of pretending to be wise after the event. This post is bound to alienate as many people as it resonates with, so let's just hope we can engage in a civilised dialogue and light-hearted banter. After all, this article is about Twenty20 cricket, so what could be less serious than that? There we go – first shot fired! I know for a fact that I'm not the only person out there who thinks that the Big Bash League will end up being a flop. Many knowledgeable cricket folk I have spoken to share that view for a number of different reasons. So for the record, let me articulate why I think it is a doomed experiment, regardless of how long the experiment will be persevered with, through sheer bloody-mindedness if nothing else. Edwin Land, the inventor of Polaroid and a man who probably knew a thing or two about developing quick copies, had this to say about the sort of process that led to the birth of the BBL in some think-tank, possibly at an executive retreat on a beach on a tropical island: "it's not that we need new ideas but we need to stop having old ideas". Firstly, unlike the IPL (which I still think has a limited shelf life but at least enjoys 'first mover advantage'), the BBL is a cheap copy of a product (the IPL) that operates in a cricket-mad market and attracts the very best players in the world. Australia just doesn't have the sheer numbers who will continue to watch BBL games ad nauseaum. The IPL has proved that it doesn't require significant external interest in the event. Domestic consumption alone is enough to feed the beast, although I'm not quite sure how long it will take before that menu too will start to look a bit tired. But that's another debate altogether. From our perspective here in Australia, domestic interest in the event will wane as soon as the initial novelty wears off. Quality products stand the test of time. You can't throw enough money at a cheap imitation to keep it afloat, regardless of how many bells, whistles and Hollywood starlets you throw at it.]]> Cricket Australia's marketing gurus are relying upon the sort of tribalism that keeps football clubs throughout the country in plenty of coin. Well actually, even some of those tribes are in serious financial difficulty these days but I think they have totally misread the Australian sports fan. To expect them to follow artificially created franchises (not teams) and engender the sort of tribal passion that characterises AFL and Rugby League is a serious error of judgement. I just can't see a backyard barbeque or dinner party where someone keeps making an excuse to dart into the TV room and check on the score and then return to the patio with all the other blokes waiting to hear the score. That's tribalism. BBL may satisfy the entertainment segment of the market for a short time but it won't get thousands of fans living and breathing every run and wicket, crying tears of joy and pain over their franchise's performance. For a small market like Australia, you will need that die-hard fan base to sustain a viable franchise. The timing of the BBL is also wrong. Yes, I understand why they need to schedule it for the holiday period but it clashes with too many other things too. Like the Boxing Day Test, the New Year's Test in Sydney, the Australian Open, beach holidays and social gatherings where it would be deemed almost rude to have the cricket playing in the background at an evening family barbeque. In my family for example, if we have guests over for dinner, the television stays off. It's slightly different over a long lunch if the Test cricket is on or if Australia were playing in an ODI but I'm sure there would be many families who would not care for the distraction of a meaningless clash between the Sydney Sixers and the Melbourne Stars dominating the sanctity of a dinner party or evening social engagement. Further on that point, if the BBL can only survive on the back of garnering interest during the holiday period, doesn't that say something about the whole tribalism thing? None of the football codes that the BBL is trying to emulate needs holidays and good weather to sustain fan interest. In fact, tribalism is best exemplified by the fact that footy fans will turn up in droves on a bitterly cold, wet and windy winter's night to watch their favourite team get flogged every weekend. That's tribalism. Timing wise, the fact that we have this ridiculous situation in which Cricket Australia has to schedule a so-called 'Batting Camp' before the Boxing Day Test, just underscores how ridiculously out-of-synch our priorities are. Batting Camp? It used to be called Sheffield Shield cricket my friends! You know, that quaint old system that was arguably the best domestic competition in the world? You know, the testing ground where players had to take wickets and score runs before they got selected for a Test match? Bit old-fashioned, I know, but it worked quite nicely for a hundred years or so. Here we are, about to face one of the powerhouses of cricket (India) and our best players have to attend a batting camp to get themselves prepared for the Boxing Day Test? And they keep trying to tell us that Test cricket is still our number one priority. Yeah right. The over-the-top marketing messages I see from Cricket Australia have clearly been borrowed from our sycophantic obsession with the American marketing machine – it may attract a certain type of audience, but is this where they see the future grassroots support for cricket coming from? They talk about trying to engage with the new generation and that's an admirable ambition, but the danger lies in alienating one loyal set of fans in order to attract an entirely different segment of the market who may only ever consume cricket in this fast food format. I refute the theory that you will be able to migrate these new fans to a longer format of the game. Why would they? Their first experience of cricket will be music, colour, costumes and short attention spans. How do we ever hope to get them to appreciate a brilliant spell of outswing bowling by a Pattinson to a Dravid who is doing everything possible to leave as many as he can without losing his off stump? Where's the fun in that to somebody who has only ever been weaned on a boundary every over, with rap music accompanying every big hit? Finally, for all those brilliant marketing strategists who reckon that the 'side entertainment' is what attracts people to the game, I have this question to ask of them? What sort of high quality product needs so much diversion to attract a sustainable following? Is the product so inferior that the only way you can sell it is to dress it up in fancy uniforms, loud music and all the circus tricks? Is the product not worthy of standing on its own? Especially for a game like Twenty20, which is so fast-moving, is the audience that bored between each over and each fall of wicket that you have to seduce them with some other form of entertainment to keep them in their seats? Is it not enough that high-quality athletes are smashing sixes, smashing noses (in Brendon McCullum's case) and performing acrobatics in the outfield (Steven Smith on Friday night)? Our old friend Edwin Land of Polaroid fame sums it up rather succinctly when he said "marketing is what you do when your product is no good". Last night's pantomime at the MCG just about said it all. Has our cricket dropped to such a low level that we're reduced to having an ageing star of yesteryear being the biggest crowd-puller and his girlfriend tossing the coin? We needed to see Shane Warne pashing Liz Hurley to give this BBL product true legitimacy? How long before we run out of famous ex-cricketers with fake blonde hair, dodgy mobile phone etiquette and Hollywood partners? There's talk in the local newspaper of Shane and Liz being the star attractions for the game in Brisbane on Tuesday night. Gosh, and we've even arranged to mind his kids for him while he supervises Liz tossing! And this is the future that the BBL is banking on for long-term viability? Clearly the cricket itself isn't exciting enough to get people in the door so we need to have the likes of Liz Hurley tossing the coin and playing tonsil hockey with our great leg spinner? This is the vision for the high quality, long-term sustainable product that is going to attract investors and compete with the IPL? To those marketing geniuses in focus groups, understand this – a BBL franchise will never be a team. It will never be like following the Tigers or the Bulldogs (choose your footy code – same difference). People will see through this tribalism rubbish for what it is. If the product isn't good enough to stand on its own two feet without the distractions, even the new punters you seek to attract will vote with their feet and move on to the next teeny bopper craze. tag:blogs.espncricinfo.com,2011:/diffstrokes//139.26568 2011-12-15T09:51:49Z 2012-02-07T06:23:41Z

Michael Jeh If this Test had been played in New Zealand, with the same viewer voting system in place, no prizes for guessing who would have won the award © AFP
The great Man-of-the-Match debate after the Hobart Test … my first reaction when I watched it live was a bit of surprise. I would probably have gone for Doug Bracewell but could see why the judges chose David Warner. Once it dawned on me that it was a viewer-driven poll, though, I was less sanguine about the decision. "How stupid," I thought. Of course it was only ever going to go one way if that was the way it was decided. My next thought was, "Honestly, who really cares?" Clearly, I'm in the minority. Clearly, lots of people do care. So let's look at both sides of the argument then. This MOM award thing is such a fine line. Especially in such a close game. If this Test had been played in New Zealand, with the same viewer voting system in place, no prizes for guessing who would have won that award. Even if Warner had got Australia over the line, Bracewell may have won the vote. I don't think Australians are the only folk who would have voted for their own man in a tight call. Let's look at it another way; in Hobart, if Warner hadn't taken that last single, exposing Nathan Lyon to the strike and smashed two boundaries instead (if anyone in world cricket is capable of doing that, surely Warner would be close to the top of that list), would that have changed everything? It would have meant that Australia would have won the match, Warner would have scored a few more runs and Bracewell would have taken five wickets instead of six in a losing cause. So, would eight extra runs have changed our opinion on the whole matter? What if it wasn't Warner who hit those extra eight runs? What if Lyon had snicked a couple of boundaries or even played one of those delightful Mark Waugh-esque flicks through midwicket? Would that have made us less critical of the popularity contest verdict? ]]> My point is that in a game that was so close, it was a marginal call anyway as to who would get the MOM award. Personally, I would have chosen Bracewell but it wasn't the 'no-brainer' that some people suggest it was. After all, here was a bloke in only his second Test, often pilloried for being a Twenty20 slogger, carrying his bat through a tense fourth-innings chase on a pitch where the next-highest individual score was less than half his 123. It was a pitch that suited bowlers after all so perhaps, if you wanted to be devil's advocate, it could be argued that Warner's effort was more meritorious than Bracewell's bag of wickets. Do the players themselves really care all that much? Sure, we remember the MOM from a World Cup final but do we really remember each Test match award? It's only a temporary title after all. The circus moves on and today's MOM is yesterday's forgotten hero. How many cricketers trade their reputations on official MOM awards? They play so much cricket these days and each award ceremony is nothing more than an attempt by sponsors to get some gormless, star-struck chief executive or marketing manager on stage to hand over some hideous looking trophy or gold-plated carving. The compere asks the player insightful questions like "how do you feel?", the player responds by thanking the sponsors and acknowledging the contribution of "the rest of the lads" and another memorable (not) ceremony winds up with a mug shot of the aforementioned chief executive trying to shake the hands of anyone who had anything to do with the match, including the groundsman, umpire or bus driver. Real cricketers don't really care about these awards, not to the extent that the public seems to anyway. Cricketers are not like politicians who care more about what other people outside their 'industry' think. To cricketers at this level, the respect of their peers is more important than any award. Bracewell knows that he has the respect of his team-mates and more importantly perhaps, he has earned a new level of respect from the Australian team. That's probably his most satisfying emotion - knowing the opposition team rates him. MOM awards are all very good but honestly, they'd trade all of those awards for that deep sense of respect and being rated by the opposition. Cricket at this level doesn't need titles to confer legitimacy. Their achievements transcend such cheap thrills. Cricketers tend to value quiet respect and admiration from inside their community much more than popularity contests conducted by mobile phone companies who make money from every vote. Warner, clearly crestfallen at losing the match, should be applauded for not whooping it up when he got the award. The Australian team were dignified in not going over the top when handed the Chappell-Hadlee Trophy. The New Zealand side were dignified and gracious in victory, aware that in young Bracewell, they had a champion of the future. Dignity, respect and a quiet sense of a job well done. No need for anything else.