Thursday 29 March 2012

Put it away

England were skittled for 264 chasing 340 for an improbable win in Galle today, a ground where the highest successful fourth innings chase is still just 96. A trademark obdurate century from Jonathan Trott apart, it was a pretty miserable effort with all ten wickets falling to spin, six for Rangana Herath and four to Suraj Randiv, as England brought their form from the UAE with them to Sri Lanka.

Whereas in the Emirates they were undone by the unerringly accurate Abdur Rehman and the talent and mind-trickery of Saeed Ajmal, here there was no talk even of doosras, let alone teesras and carom balls. For all they are skilful bowlers, Herath and Randiv are not mystery spinners in the way Ajantha Mendis is. Neither are they prodigious spinners of the ball in the manner of a Muralitharan. At this particular moment, Sunil Narine looks - outwardly at least - fuller of tricks than this pair. Where they have flourished, however, is with a peculiarly English obsession with the sweep shot.

The curiosity arises because of the coach. Andy Flower was brilliant against spin and also a fine player of the sweep. However he succeeded there as he played the ball on it's merits and brought the sweep out where appropriate. The current England line-up use it in pre-meditated fashion and invariably end up getting out to it. It's a low percentage shot and perhaps indicative of the pressure England's batsmen are putting themselves under against the spinners. Tying themselves in knots playing straight the sweep is used to relieve pressure, the irony being that by playing it badly to balls that aren't there to sweep, it keeps getting them out and piles more pressure on the next man who then resorts to the sweep. It's a never-ending cycle, a self-fulfilling prophecy with an air of the inevitable that Sisyphus would think was a bit much.

England's loss here was down to many things - Mahela's brilliance, dropped catches, not polishing the tail off, one crucial no-ball, the continued absence of Tim "ten for ten" Bresnan - but taking the sweep shot outside and leaving it by the bins would be a good way to start putting things right.

Friday 16 March 2012

Finally - SRT and the statistical bucket

It's not been that long since the completely arbitrary landmark of one hundred international centuries became a thing, but a thing it undoubtedly has become, a thing of such weight and importance that it's loomed large and forebodingly over no such a head as that of the Little Master, Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar.

But he has done it. He's finally done the thing that nobody thought was a thing until he reached about 95 international hundreds in all formats of the game. After the longest century-drought* in his career, he knocked 114 against Bangladesh in the Asia Cup and India basically stopped for an hour.

This thing about doing things 'in international cricket' only seemed to become a landmark when Muttiah Muralitharan was approaching 1000 wickets in all forms of the game. Yes, it's impressive, but does it really mean anything? Maybe with international players playing less domestic cricket it's had to become more of a thing as you're not going to get players scoring a hundred first-class hundreds a la Geoff Boycott, Mark Ramprakash, Jack Hobbs and many others. Denied that, maybe we have to start lumping all international cricket into the same statistical bucket and sieving out the nuggets we perceive to be significant. Is a t20 power-blast even comparable to a ten-hour grind to save a Test match? Or, more pertinently, should it be?

In all seriousness though, it was a huge deal. Since his 99th, the expectation level has gone through the roof and that happened to coincide with one of those dips in form that even happen to cricket immortals such as SRT. It would be nice - statistically speaking - for him to notch another ODI ton and make it 50 hundreds in both ODIs and Tests, but frankly, he's done enough. At times during this last year, it's looked like he's had the weight of the world on his shoulders. He's seen his good friend Rahul Dravid - only a few months older - retire from the game and it would not be a surprise to see Tendulkar call it a day after this tournament.

If he does retire, fine. If he carries on, fine. He owes the cricketing world nothing. Or at least he doesn't until someone reaches into the statistical bucket and discovers another thing that isn't really a thing but is portrayed as a hugely significant landmark.


EDIT: The above was written while the game was still ongoing. It has just finished and India have lost thanks in part to some horrible bowling and some thunderblasts off the bat of Mushfiqur Rahim. This is sort of poetic. It means that Sachin's meaningless hundred that came in a meaningless game in a meaningless tournament against meaningless opposition (if we're being very mean) to reach a meaningless statistical landmark becomes even more meaningless. And that's possibly the most meaningful thing about it.



* - one year and three months. Pfft. This author's century drought stands at 36 years, 11 months and three weeks. And counting.

Friday 9 March 2012

The Wall

The writing was pretty much on the wall (pun completely intended) as six of his last eight dismissals have come by way of being clean bowled. As soon as Rahul Dravid announced that he was to hold a press conference today, it wasn't difficult to guess what was coming. After 164 Test matches, 344 ODIs, 24,000 patiently gathered runs, an astonishing number of catches and, lest we forget, 14 stumpings, The Wall has retired.

One of the true greats, he seemed happy to let Sachin Tendulkar get the headlines, to remain stoic at one end while Virender Sehwag go batshit insane at the other, but he was no less important to that Dream Team of the last decade and more. Moreover, he seemed to shun the limelight away from the field of play. Not for him the armed entourage of SRT, nor the front page headlines when he had a haircut a la MS Dhoni. No swagger or sneer (here's looking at you, Yuvraj), no theatrics, pantomime villainry or Billy Big-bollocks type behaviour. The term 'role model' always sits uneasily when referring to sportsmen, but here is one. He would do anything for the team, including keeping wicket and opening in times of emergency. Team before self every time and, as such, it's difficult to avoid the feeling that his contribution has always been under-appreciated. It began to get the recognition it deserved towards the end of his career, especially in that tour of England when he was the outstanding player of the series, despite being on the end of a 4-0 whitewash.

It remains something of a grotesque legacy that he will continue to play in the pantomime/circus environs of the IPL, his game the absolute antithesis of what t20 cricket stands for, but hey ho. Everyone has to earn a living, right? It also remains a bizarre statistical anomaly that he both made his international t20 debut and announced his international t20 retirement on the same day, a long way north of his 38th birthday.

Of that Dream Team, Saurav Ganguly went some time ago and Dravid has now followed. VVS Laxman surely can't have much longer and Sehwag and Tendulkar are hardly young men. There seems to have been a lack of succession planning and while the like of Virat Kohli and Suresh Raina look good fleetingly in one-dayers, their lack of Test credentials have been horribly exposed by both England and Australia while Gautam Gambhir can only be relied upon outside of the wedding season. The retirement of Dravid denies the younger players the rock around which they can build an innings. They're going to have to start thinking for themselves.

So long, The Wall. If only the next generation of Indian batsmen had cojones like yours.

Wednesday 7 March 2012

Sir Viv at 60

Vivian Richards. The name still conjures great memories and images. Even watching him speak on the documentary Fire In Babylon which was televised free-to-air just a couple of weeks ago, he still commands attention and respect.

The West Indian side of the late 1970s was fearsome. Pace and aggression from the bowlers, power and aggression from the batsmen. Have you ever seen an aggressive wicket-keeper? Well Jeffrey Dujon was, somehow. Gordon Greenidge was brilliant. You wept for bowlers if he limped to the crease. Clive Lloyd and, more latterly, Carl Hooper were languidly destructive. The seemingly never-ending battery of hostile bowlers, from Andy Roberts and Colin Croft through Michael Holding, Joel Garner and the sublime Malcolm Marshall to Courtney Walsh and Curtly Ambrose could frighten the life out of you when watching on TV some 4000 miles away.

But then there was Viv. Probably the most frightening of the lot, he was so much more. He was cool. He swaggered. He owned the game for 15 years. He was the one everybody wanted to be when the bat and ball came out at lunchtime at school, which in a very white Catholic school in North Yorkshire was quite something. He turns 60 years old today and still looks like he could do a decent job out in the middle.

His natural heir is Chris Gayle. Not as talented, but equally as laid-back, destructive and, above all, cool. Gayle is still not being picked by the West Indies, but Tino Best is. Maybe sorting that clear aberration would be the best way to honour the great man on this anniversary.