Sir Vivian gets up on his high horse, obviously without a saddle or helmet...
"The guy who got hit and still tried to get in line, then gets hit again, that's the guy I will take with me on the field every day."
Unless he's laid up in hospital with a fractured skull of course...
"There are individuals out there who use the body protection as a form of staying power, to go on as long as possible. That's the worst way anybody can be thinking, that you should cover yourself in a suit of armour, to make yourself brave, or to enable you to hook – when you never hooked in your life – just because you've got a helmet on. That's rubbish. Even though they say cricket is a gentleman's game, it's a man's game."
Right on, Viv! And whilst we're at it, let's do away with pads - they just encourage batsmen to push their front leg down the pitch. And those gloves can go too, they're for wimps. And real men shouldn't need to wear a box should they Viv?
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Some Fantastic Place
Lords already gets at least one test match a year - it also gets more than its share of one day internationals, plus any one day finals that happen to be taking place - international and domestic. The only exception is 20/20 Finals Day which, perhaps explains why that is one of the liveliest and enjoyable events in the cricket calendar.
In the coming summer, Lords is getting a third of all the days of international cricket taking place in England, based around the rather tired premise that 'all international touring sides want to play at Lords' - which ignores the obvious retort of 'tough, they can't.'
Yet, the MCC still aren't happy.
Actually, the MCC will only be truly happy if the whole world is put in a time machine and transported back to 1895. But I digress...
I'm not suggesting that Lords be denied a test match in any summer - a Lords test is an integral part of any sporting year, but lets please lose the assumption that they have to host every side that pays a visit, and have to have more than their fair share of ODIs dolloped on top of that.
Other venues around the country have lashed out big bucks on improving their facilities - all without the 'guarantee' of future internationals.
As a venue, yes, Lords is a special place, but it's not that special.
In the coming summer, Lords is getting a third of all the days of international cricket taking place in England, based around the rather tired premise that 'all international touring sides want to play at Lords' - which ignores the obvious retort of 'tough, they can't.'
Yet, the MCC still aren't happy.
Actually, the MCC will only be truly happy if the whole world is put in a time machine and transported back to 1895. But I digress...
I'm not suggesting that Lords be denied a test match in any summer - a Lords test is an integral part of any sporting year, but lets please lose the assumption that they have to host every side that pays a visit, and have to have more than their fair share of ODIs dolloped on top of that.
Other venues around the country have lashed out big bucks on improving their facilities - all without the 'guarantee' of future internationals.
As a venue, yes, Lords is a special place, but it's not that special.
Monday, November 16, 2009
Too Many Cooks
I wonder if the thought ever crossed Alistair Cook’s mind that maybe he shouldn’t have opened England’s innings on Sunday?
To have any chance when chasing a big score you need to give your best T20 batsmen the chance to score as many runs as possible. Eoin Morgan has proved he can steam along at two runs per ball – so logic would dictate that you need to let him face as many balls out of the 120 available you can.
Spare me the nonsense about openers needing to face the quick bowlers first up. Morgan’s not naïve enough to think he would be able to blast away from ball one, but by the end of the first over he’d have had a couple of sighters so that by the time he’d faced half a dozen balls he could well have be ready to put his foot down in the third over – half way through the powerplay, rather than chewing on his bat handle in the dugout.
It’s probably a moot argument when you’re chasing 240, but another time it might be a 200 run target where a few extra balls for Morgan, or KP for that matter, could mean an extra ten or fifteen runs and the difference between victory and defeat.
It’s a simplistic way of looking at things, but percentages are, by definition, simple things. You look to do as much as you can to give yourself the best possible chance to win the game based on the statistics you have available. Statistics are surely more relevant in the shortest format of the game where there are fewer opportunities for random chance to have an effect. Of course, Morgan could have opened and been out to the first ball he faced, which would have killed the theory stone dead, but at least he would have been in the position to have received as many balls as possible in the first place.
Actually, I doubt the idea of dropping down the order ever penetrated Cook’s mind. He’s been an opening batsman ever since school, so he’s not going to change now. Plus he’s already been anointed ‘next England captain’ so doesn’t need to demonstrate any radical tactical thinking – 'his future is as good as sealed…'
Let’s save the arguments about whether he should be in the T20 squad at all for another time.
To have any chance when chasing a big score you need to give your best T20 batsmen the chance to score as many runs as possible. Eoin Morgan has proved he can steam along at two runs per ball – so logic would dictate that you need to let him face as many balls out of the 120 available you can.
Spare me the nonsense about openers needing to face the quick bowlers first up. Morgan’s not naïve enough to think he would be able to blast away from ball one, but by the end of the first over he’d have had a couple of sighters so that by the time he’d faced half a dozen balls he could well have be ready to put his foot down in the third over – half way through the powerplay, rather than chewing on his bat handle in the dugout.
It’s probably a moot argument when you’re chasing 240, but another time it might be a 200 run target where a few extra balls for Morgan, or KP for that matter, could mean an extra ten or fifteen runs and the difference between victory and defeat.
It’s a simplistic way of looking at things, but percentages are, by definition, simple things. You look to do as much as you can to give yourself the best possible chance to win the game based on the statistics you have available. Statistics are surely more relevant in the shortest format of the game where there are fewer opportunities for random chance to have an effect. Of course, Morgan could have opened and been out to the first ball he faced, which would have killed the theory stone dead, but at least he would have been in the position to have received as many balls as possible in the first place.
Actually, I doubt the idea of dropping down the order ever penetrated Cook’s mind. He’s been an opening batsman ever since school, so he’s not going to change now. Plus he’s already been anointed ‘next England captain’ so doesn’t need to demonstrate any radical tactical thinking – 'his future is as good as sealed…'
Let’s save the arguments about whether he should be in the T20 squad at all for another time.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Five Alive
Five Ashes Tests...
Five main, free to air, terrestrial TV channels...
Seems obvious to me.
Five main, free to air, terrestrial TV channels...
Seems obvious to me.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Closure
Not entirely unexpected news in the Grauniad this morning confirming that Observer Sports Monthly is going to be closed.
With the current state of the economy, plus the fact that buying a daily paper is a fast fading habit, it’s hardly a surprise, but this is very much opportunity squandered over a period of years.
When OSM first launched it was an absolute revelation. A good quality read, not overwhelmed with adverts like, for example, the Guardian Weekend Supplement which is virtually unreadable. Topical, in depth, analytical articles where the quality journos in the Observer stable were given space for longer articles than you’d get in the paper itself.
Alongside these were some jokey features, the right level of nostalgia mixed in with good quality action photography and the all-around feel of a quality product. It was the nearest thing I’ve seen over here to Sports Illustrated and The Sporting News in the US, and was compulsory reading on a monthly basis.
The quality was such that for the first couple of years, it could have easily been sold on the newsstands as a standalone publication.
But then, bizarrely, it went downmarket at such a rate of knots that you could only assume that they’d got the editor of Loaded in to run it.
The long quality features disappeared and, instead, we were treated to a series of badly written pieces about nothing at all, and a bizarre over-concentration on dangerous ‘sports’ – like cliff diving or running with the bulls in Pamplona – which is as much of a sport as bear baiting or cockfighting.
Typical of the direction it was going in was a new feature - ‘how I got my body’ where a sportsman was given the opportunity to preen himself in public whilst the rest of us wondered how soon it would be before someone dropped the word 'steroid'.
Then there was the gratuitous sexism. Every time they published a photograph of a female sportsman, the woman in question was wearing as little clothing as possible – and in the case of Victoria Pendleton on the front cover for heaven's sake – nothing at all. Any sportswomen appearing in the pages seemed to have to be party to a Faustian pact where the deal seemed to be ‘we’ll give you some publicity to help you attract sponsorship, but in return you need to get ‘em out for the lads’. Leaving aside the fact that they were talking to some of the most successful and committed sportsmen in the country – to quote Adam Faith (Spinal Tap) ‘sex sells’.
From a cricketing point of view the pre-Ashes analysis consisted of asking the England squad the most anodyne series of questions imaginable and little else, and then photographing them in dinner jackets, whilst whoever wrote the post series review decided that Andrew Flintoff had beaten the Australians single handed.
The descent to the gutter has proved terminal and a decent product has been ruined and I still don't quite understand why.
With the current state of the economy, plus the fact that buying a daily paper is a fast fading habit, it’s hardly a surprise, but this is very much opportunity squandered over a period of years.
When OSM first launched it was an absolute revelation. A good quality read, not overwhelmed with adverts like, for example, the Guardian Weekend Supplement which is virtually unreadable. Topical, in depth, analytical articles where the quality journos in the Observer stable were given space for longer articles than you’d get in the paper itself.
Alongside these were some jokey features, the right level of nostalgia mixed in with good quality action photography and the all-around feel of a quality product. It was the nearest thing I’ve seen over here to Sports Illustrated and The Sporting News in the US, and was compulsory reading on a monthly basis.
The quality was such that for the first couple of years, it could have easily been sold on the newsstands as a standalone publication.
But then, bizarrely, it went downmarket at such a rate of knots that you could only assume that they’d got the editor of Loaded in to run it.
The long quality features disappeared and, instead, we were treated to a series of badly written pieces about nothing at all, and a bizarre over-concentration on dangerous ‘sports’ – like cliff diving or running with the bulls in Pamplona – which is as much of a sport as bear baiting or cockfighting.
Typical of the direction it was going in was a new feature - ‘how I got my body’ where a sportsman was given the opportunity to preen himself in public whilst the rest of us wondered how soon it would be before someone dropped the word 'steroid'.
Then there was the gratuitous sexism. Every time they published a photograph of a female sportsman, the woman in question was wearing as little clothing as possible – and in the case of Victoria Pendleton on the front cover for heaven's sake – nothing at all. Any sportswomen appearing in the pages seemed to have to be party to a Faustian pact where the deal seemed to be ‘we’ll give you some publicity to help you attract sponsorship, but in return you need to get ‘em out for the lads’. Leaving aside the fact that they were talking to some of the most successful and committed sportsmen in the country – to quote Adam Faith (Spinal Tap) ‘sex sells’.
From a cricketing point of view the pre-Ashes analysis consisted of asking the England squad the most anodyne series of questions imaginable and little else, and then photographing them in dinner jackets, whilst whoever wrote the post series review decided that Andrew Flintoff had beaten the Australians single handed.
The descent to the gutter has proved terminal and a decent product has been ruined and I still don't quite understand why.
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Colourfield
It’s one of the famous cricket photos – so famous that you really even have to look at it to be able to describe it pretty closely.
To begin with, it's always a colour memory, even though the picture is in black and white. That's down to the TV coverage being in colour – so it's probably the first recognised colour Ashes memory. That may sound odd, but consider. Think of Bradman batting - you think in black and white. Likewise any thoughts you have of Hutton, Miller, Lindwall, Benaud bowling out England in 1961, Trueman's 300th test wicket - all black and white images or snippets of film in the mind. Even after this memory, Ashes thoughts are still in black and white - Snow cuddling the fan at Sydney, Jenner getting beaned - black and white. Things only really started going properly technicolour when Lillian Thompson started flashing her bouncers around – better to see the blood on the wicket I suppose.
Anyway, back to the picture. Underwood has bowled, left arm round (something I watched him do either live or on TV thousands of times)
The fielders are playing ring-a-ring-a-roses around the batsman. Everyone is in shot, apart from the square leg umpire. I can see Colin Cowdrey at first slip (and probably second slip too…) Edrich in the gully, The aforementioned John Snow is at short leg.
Sawdust litters both ends of the wicket – so redolent of circuses, you expect to see a clown’s car go across the pitch, with bits falling off every five seconds. Bearing in mind the MCC committee were in the pavilion at the time picking the side to go to South Africa that winter and thus bringing us the D'olivera affair, 'circus' and 'clowns' are apt images.
The ball has hit the batsman in front – though from the still photo it looks as though Inverarity has been hit on the backside whilst facing point and waving his bat at someone on the boundary at third man...
Deadly is appealing, as is Knotty, and every fielder, including Milburn at square leg – though how the hell he can tell whether it’s out or not is totally beyond me...(A pet hate – indulge me!)
The umpire's finger is going up. I think it was Arthur Fagg - like bowler, keeper and slip, also of Kent and England – no neutral umpires in those days.
Of course, it’s the back story that really makes the picture. After all, England beating Australia at the Oval isn’t a rare occurrence, but we’ll remember this picture for longer than we will the latest incarnation of it, which is Cook catching Hussey a few months back. Even though the Underwood wicket didn’t actually clinch the Ashes, but merely tied the series.
It’s the big clean up that makes this what it is – hundreds of supporters helping Cowdrey dry the wicket. A lake at 3pm, play ready to start less than two hours later.
It couldn’t happen today. Player safety is much more of an issue (remember what happened at OT for a 20/20) Then, rather pathetically, we’re not allowed on the outfield - so some officious jobsworth would probably make the players do it on their own, and finally, and most obviously, it doesn’t need to happen. If some much as a pigeon wees on the pitch the the covers come charging on.
Friday, October 30, 2009
Shapes of things
In the first half of the 1970’s, when the words ‘John Player League winners’ seemed to be a permanent prefix to the county name, we regularly used to go down to Canterbury to watch the mighty Kent deal with their Sunday foes.
One time, Gloucestershire were the visitors. We were ensconced near the old elm tree when, in one over, the sublime Asif Iqbal hit three shots through midwicket, all in our direction. The first stopped just short of the rope and was gamely chased and returned by the fielder Gloucester were hiding at mid – on – David Shepherd. The batsmen took a comfortable three. After a single, Asif hit one there again, and this time they ran four – and then off the next ball he repeated the trick and they might well have run nine had the ball not trickled over the boundary – likewise Shepherd.
Someone stood up and offered him a beer – he looked up, face as purple as the proverbial beetroot, dripping with sweat and, according to the guy whose can it was, polished off most of the can.
It’s an odd thought, that through the typical English obsession with eccentricity, he’ll be remembered, not for being one of the most respected umpires ever, but for standing on one leg.
The Ian Anderson of cricket?
One time, Gloucestershire were the visitors. We were ensconced near the old elm tree when, in one over, the sublime Asif Iqbal hit three shots through midwicket, all in our direction. The first stopped just short of the rope and was gamely chased and returned by the fielder Gloucester were hiding at mid – on – David Shepherd. The batsmen took a comfortable three. After a single, Asif hit one there again, and this time they ran four – and then off the next ball he repeated the trick and they might well have run nine had the ball not trickled over the boundary – likewise Shepherd.
Someone stood up and offered him a beer – he looked up, face as purple as the proverbial beetroot, dripping with sweat and, according to the guy whose can it was, polished off most of the can.
It’s an odd thought, that through the typical English obsession with eccentricity, he’ll be remembered, not for being one of the most respected umpires ever, but for standing on one leg.
The Ian Anderson of cricket?
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Chunder!
Andrew Hilditch, the erstwhile 'happy hooker' and now Australia's chief of selectors reckons that their loss this summer gone was simply a 'hiccup'.
A 'hiccup' of the Pete Townsend variety perhaps: -
I stretched back and I hiccupped
And looked back on my busy day
A 'hiccup' of the Pete Townsend variety perhaps: -
I stretched back and I hiccupped
And looked back on my busy day
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Bubbling Under
Due entirely to our refusal to ever appear on Top of the Pops, we don't quite make the Top 20 cricket websites run down in the Telegraph. Tone does though.
We do, however, get a nice mention in dispatches - thanks to regular commentor 'AndyBatt' for the testimonial.
We do, however, get a nice mention in dispatches - thanks to regular commentor 'AndyBatt' for the testimonial.
Feudalshire
As soon as I heard the news about Matthew Hoggard's unceremonious dumping by Yorkshire, I had a deja-vu style flashback to something I'd read years ago about a similar situation involving another ex-Yorkshire international.
I racked both brains and bookshelves, but couldn't find the reference, but now - thanks to the Guardian, here it is -
The Old Batsman has an interesting take on the affair.
Serious point is that Yorkshire have done this to a guy who's been at the county his entire playing career, and who has never given less than 100% when he's been sporting the White Rose. If someone like that can be cast adrift with such limited notice, what about the players at the other end of the spectrum?
I racked both brains and bookshelves, but couldn't find the reference, but now - thanks to the Guardian, here it is -
"John Nash, the Yorkshire secretary, had phoned the previous evening to ask me to go to county headquarters the next day. I had no idea what the meeting was going to be about. I assumed it was some sort of routine matter connected with the team. When I arrived it was a bit of a surprise to find Brian Sellers, The Crackerjack, Mr Yorkshire cricket himself, sat at the end of the table. He looked at me and said 'Well Brian, you've had a good innings.' As soon as he had said that I knew something very funny was going to happen, but I still wasn't prepared for the next bit.
The committee had had a meeting said the chairman. They said my services were no longer required and I had a decision to make whether to resign or be sacked. It happened so swiftly, I had been bludgeoned. Through the blur of battered emotions I heard myself saying 'How long have I got to decide, because I'd like a word with my wife?' 'You've got 10 minutes,' said Sellers. 'Before you leave this office we want to know.'
The full story hasn't come out yet, but Hoggy isn't exactly backward about coming forward (read his autobiography if you need evidence - particularly a revealing insight into what players actually get up to no tour...) so it'll be an interesting read - to say the least.The Old Batsman has an interesting take on the affair.
Serious point is that Yorkshire have done this to a guy who's been at the county his entire playing career, and who has never given less than 100% when he's been sporting the White Rose. If someone like that can be cast adrift with such limited notice, what about the players at the other end of the spectrum?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
