Stuart Broad Indian diary - an apology

We apologise for the non-appearance of days three to five of our exclusive extracts from Stuart Broad's diary, but we were busy and it transpires anyway that, in light of his comments after the game, particularly those exchanged with Ian Botham, he is completely, totally and utterly unsatirisable.

Stuart Broad's Indian diary - day two

Friday.

I have never been so insulted in my life. Yes, the pitch is a bit slow, but for Matt Prior to stand up to the stumps when I'm bowling? I can barely express my anger. I'm so full of rage, it's all I can do to type.

Needless to say, I was brilliant today. I softened the batsmen up with some short-pitch bowling so that Swanny and Pately could fill their boots. Of course, I should have had some wickets of my own, but my appeals to the umpires for ones going way over the top or a yard down leg fell on deaf ears. I'm not sure these blokes realise who I am. Cooky didn't fancy any reviews either - not sure what his problem with that is. And the shoddy fielding... This is not what I expect. I did everything I could to rally the guys like you expect from the vice-captain - hold out both arms like the Angel of the North, do the double teapot, lots of glaring at people who are simply making it look like my bowling was shit or something with their pisspoor efforts in the field. I fail to see what else I can do.

Unfortunately, I was still seething about Priory's insult when it came our turn to bat, so I didn't even bother to volunteer to open this time. Instead, I offered helpful tips to the procession of team-mates - Comptony, Andersony, Trotty - coming back into the pavilion about what they should have done instead. I tell you, I wouldn't have got out like that on this. There's bugger all in this pitch.

I'll get my own back on Priory though. I'll get one of my mates to set up a spoof twitter account. Everyone loves that, right?

Y

Letter added to the end of an England player's surname to create a whole new and inventive nickname, e.g. Straussy, Cooky, Pately, Nawab of Pataudi-y

Stuart Broad's Indian diary - day one

We have arranged for exclusive extracts from Stuart Broad's diaries to be passed to us by a shadowy intermediary so we can share them here with you, dear reader. Here's the first missive.


Thursday.

Cooky came in and said he'd lost the toss and would bowl. I asked if he was sure he'd lost it and whether he'd considered reviewing it, but he seemed content enough.


So we bowled today. This was very exciting. You see, the regulations have changed to allow two shoulder-high balls per over. I piled loads of short balls down as fast as I could, but for some bizarre reason it didn't work. I mean, I tried everything: glaring at the umpire, glaring at Cooky, glaring at Michael Atherton, glaring at some guy in the crowd who called me 'benchod'.... nothing.   Second spell was just as futile. Tried reviewing a couple of decisions when the batsman got the bat within an inch of the ball, but Cooky didn't seem to fancy it. I got to use the second new ball late on and got one to move away and brush the edge. Again, nothing. Glared at the ground staff, but that was the end of things for today. It was nice to see Yuvraj though. He said something about 'Durban' to me, but I just glared at him. That showed him.   Bobbed out after dinner for a look round Ahmedabad. The tuk-tuk driver was really taking the piss with his fare. Tried reviewing it, but he told me to stop being such a massive pillock and pay up. Glared at him. I think I won that exchange.
So back out there tomorrow and we need early wickets. I'll have a quick net in the morning to sharpen up my short ball. It's a surefire means of success, you mark my words.

A name for Yorkshire

Some years ago, the marketing gurus at the ECB decided that calling counties after the counties from which they come simply wasn't enough. A contrived nickname must be added, they said, and so it came to pass.

This isn't anything really new, but the way it's been applied to cricket hasn't really worked, as evidenced by the number of clubs that have changed that nickname, some more than once. There's no heritage or history behind these names and, as such, they're failing to stick.

Rugby league went through this process some years ago, and that's largely worked. In Australia, old clubs were already known by the names now associated with them; Eastern Suburbs were always the Roosters, Souths the Rabbitohs and so on. Newer clubs began with a nickname which have been stuck with and have become commonly used in association with those clubs. Some of Britain's RL clubs had less successful experiments. Halifax dropped the unloved and unlovely 'Blue Sox' moniker to revert to 'Halifax' while St Helens, rightly, didn't feel the need to add the word 'Saints' to the end of the club's name. Others have become second nature - even Warrington's 'Wolves' which makes those, like this writer, who still call them 'the Wire' seem like the dinosaurs they probably are. But even ones that haven't really caught on - Wigan will never really be the Warriors - have been stuck to.

Yorkshire are about to try and find a fourth such nickname and have opened it up to the fanbase. Initially 'Phoenix', which wouldn't have been too bad were it not for the garish orange outfits, they were subsequently 'Tykes' and latterly 'Carnegie', a product of a tie-up with Leeds Met university, an agreement which has come to an end.

The example of Halifax RLFC is a good one here. They ended up with 'Blue Sox' as an unhappy compromise after the fans were consulted and came up with 'Bombers' which was deemed insensitive and inappropriate. Nobody wanted Blue Sox, but nobody was vehemently against it and it was ushered in with derision and a footnote in history that placed it alongside Swiss football club Neuchatel Xamax as the only two professional sports sides with two Xs in their name. Neither name now exist.

Yorkshire are actively seeking suggestions. Given that three previous artificial addenda have failed to grip the imagination of the Yorkshire public and they want something that fans will be happy to shout from the terraces, there is only one option. Anyone who has been to a Yorkshire game will know that there's only one thing that is ever shouted and, fortunately, that also ties in to the one name that will please everybody. Moreover, it's an opportunity to show that cricket doesn't need these constructs and that clubs are perfectly able to market themselves without having such a contrivance imposed on them.

Yorkshire's new name must be 'Yorkshire'.

Dancing, Strictly Come

Inexplicably popular TV talent show where old cricketers go once they've lost any relevance to the modern world. See also Vaughan, Michael; Tufnell, Phil; Ramprakash, Mark; Gough, Darren

The Pietersen principle

Let us begin this with an apology. Below are a number of words about Kevin Pietersen. Sorry.

If you've ever been systematically undermined in your job, you'll know the plan of attack. It's back to your desk, update the CV and get out of there as soon as. That's a little tricky in international cricket. You can't just swan off and go play for someone else (insert your own joke here about international eligibility rules). You're pretty much stuck. If Kevin Pietersen genuinely feels that he's unwelcome in the England environment, he has little option but to reject the Test contract that will be offered to him shortly and become the new Chris Gayle, the pre-reconciled Gayle, a bat for hire in the various t20 leagues around the world.

The question that arises, of course, is whether Pietersen has been systematically undermined or if he's now challenging David Icke as one of the great conspiracy theorists of the age. If Pietersen is really willing to end his England career over a spoof Twitter account, then he really needs to have a look back over his own public pronouncements and develop a bit of self-awareness. We'll stop short of asking for humility as that isn't a quality high on his list of traits and it's absence, in part, makes him the batsman he is, the swaggering, domineering beast who will dictate terms. If this is the end, then we have to hope there's something else at play rather than just the suggestion - strenuously denied - that one of his team-mates is behind the spoof.

If it's glory and adulation Pietersen desires - and he strikes us a man who likes to be told on a regular basis that he's great and how we can't possibly cope without him - then he'll find that without international cricket and the recognition that goes with it, he will struggle to find it playing in the Indian/Bangladesh/Sri Lankan/Zimbabwe Premier League.

If this is the end, England lose their most infuriating and brilliant batsman of this and (m)any other era. His 158 at The Oval in the Ashes of 2005 was as brutal as it comes. By contrast, his dismissal at Cardiff four years later, when he swept a non-spinning Nathan Hauritz off-break from a good two feet outside off to loop a catch up to short leg, was horrible. "That's the way I play", he implored afterwards. Well maybe it bloody well shouldn't be, playing such a low, low percentage shot when well set. Time and again, we'd hear the "That's the way I play" excuse, normally after holing out at long-on when trying to go from 95 to 100 in one shot. And yet that's also why he's endurably watchable, the pyrotechnics and ugly dismissals both making for great television. Without him, England become weaker - that's undeniable. But cricket's unique dichotomy between the team ethic and the individual nature of batsmanship has never been more starkly demonstrated by one person.

But it's worth remembering that the last time Pietersen threw a massive, flouncy strop led to his removal as captain, Peter Moores' dismissal as coach and the arrival of the Strauss/Flower dream team, successive Ashes series wins and the number one ranking. So it's not necessarily a bad thing.