Isn't Damian Fleming's action a beautiful thing? And what a little cracker to Sachin. Just slightly lazy in his footwork, and it's all over.
Ah, to quote Freddie to Fidel, cricket has a funny way of biting you in the arse. How often, I wonder, would Sachin have got his footwork slightly wrong twenty or thirty times in the course of an innings, and the worst result the odd thick edge to third man? But you get it wrong once, to the wrong ball, and game over. Is batting like life? It certainly seems to share its arbitrary nature. Hard work gets rewarded and sloppy discipline is punished, but it often feels like success or failure are determined by far greater forces than the individual - his contribution is mere quibbling over the details. It's like there's a legal document which either bankrupts you or makes you a millionaire (there is really no middle ground in cricket), and you're fighting over the small print without knowing to what end it pertains.
James Anderson. I was wrong. I saw a lithe kid who bowled nippy away swing and had model looks, and I thought - of course they'll keep picking him. His face fits. He tries hard. He fields well. He'll sell replica shirts. He's quite good. He's usually playing people who are very good. He's going to be one of those fucking bowlers whose primary talent is for getting picked, like Phil Defreitas, and he'll really piss me off. He doesn't really know where it's going, he 'wangs it down and hopes for the best' ((c) M. Hoggard) and if there's no swing he's shit.
For the best part of six years I was right. Then something changed. Quite a lot changed, in fact. First, the pace. He bowled about 82-3mph. Fast if you're a club player, nippy if you're a pro, sluggish if you're Matthew Hayden. Suddenly he went up to 85mph and sometimes touched 90mph and really scared the odd batsman. It was about a yard of pace, but at the upper limits of human reaction time that's a hell of a distance. It doesn't look terrifying on TV but watch him live and unless you're a pro you realise that he is, by your standards, pretty bloody fast.
Then the accuracy. He used to let his head dip at the point of delivery, so he was looking at the ground as he let the ball go. He doesn't quite so much. I've not a clue about biometrics. Maybe he just bowled a lot more balls, suffered less injury and found a better rhythm. Whatever: a sky-high economy rate dipped dramatically.
But in Test cricket a bowler who takes it away from the bat in the mid-80 mphs is still par for the course. We had more than enough of them since 1979, and they all averaged just over 30 and didn't do much when they were up against someone good. But Anderson broke the trend: he mastered the inswinger.
The full magnitude of this achievement has been downplayed. I don't think there's another bowler, ever, who can say they managed it at Anderson's pace. Praveen Kumar, Asif and Ed Giddens did it at medium pace. There are plenty of fast bowlers who found they could dip it both ways via reverse swing, where all that's required is a reversal of the shiny side - Wasim and S. Jones (2005) among the best exponents. And there are plenty who can make the ball hold its line as a counterpoint to the stock ball by scrambling the seam - Hadlee, Alderman. But not one that I can think of with such utmost mastery of seam position. It's something I've tried to master for years now, but I never will.
As of 2009, Anderson genuinely swung new and old ball both ways. I'd never seen that before from a fast medium bowler. I wonder if I will again. There are easier, more reliable ways to get wickets - primarily the Ambrose/McGrath model of bounce and accuracy. Both better bowlers than Anderson. But their gifts were genetically inherited, up to a point, and far less enjoyable to watch.
As long as there is anything in the air, Anderson is near enough unplayable. Have a look at his performances after 2009. In retrospect the turning point was that tour to the West Indies. A tough series on featherbed after featherbed. He bowled and bowled, and tried everything against a pretty shoddy batting line up, for scant reward. When the return series came round in the muggy early English Summer, he was in a beautiful groove. To watch him now is to watch a master bowler in action. Round the wicket, over the wicket, inswing and outswing, conventional or reverse, and now with a wobbly seam ball to test the pitch out when there's nothing coming in the air - there is no bowler with such command of every technique. Dale Steyn is very, very good. Anderson is better.
Those improvements in every area aren't much taken in isolation. A bit of pace, a bit more accuracy, a bit more swing - it doesn't sound a lot, but together they've made him lethal. I single Anderson out because his improvement embodies the reasons England are so good. There are some very good players, but I don't know if any of them will finish their careers as shoo-ins for an all-time great Test side - Trott, Cook and KP have a claim, but it's not their fault their runs have been taken off largely less skilled attacks than the past. As a sum though, I think this team could give any opponent in history a run for its money.
It's all about the small print.
Ah, to quote Freddie to Fidel, cricket has a funny way of biting you in the arse. How often, I wonder, would Sachin have got his footwork slightly wrong twenty or thirty times in the course of an innings, and the worst result the odd thick edge to third man? But you get it wrong once, to the wrong ball, and game over. Is batting like life? It certainly seems to share its arbitrary nature. Hard work gets rewarded and sloppy discipline is punished, but it often feels like success or failure are determined by far greater forces than the individual - his contribution is mere quibbling over the details. It's like there's a legal document which either bankrupts you or makes you a millionaire (there is really no middle ground in cricket), and you're fighting over the small print without knowing to what end it pertains.
James Anderson. I was wrong. I saw a lithe kid who bowled nippy away swing and had model looks, and I thought - of course they'll keep picking him. His face fits. He tries hard. He fields well. He'll sell replica shirts. He's quite good. He's usually playing people who are very good. He's going to be one of those fucking bowlers whose primary talent is for getting picked, like Phil Defreitas, and he'll really piss me off. He doesn't really know where it's going, he 'wangs it down and hopes for the best' ((c) M. Hoggard) and if there's no swing he's shit.
For the best part of six years I was right. Then something changed. Quite a lot changed, in fact. First, the pace. He bowled about 82-3mph. Fast if you're a club player, nippy if you're a pro, sluggish if you're Matthew Hayden. Suddenly he went up to 85mph and sometimes touched 90mph and really scared the odd batsman. It was about a yard of pace, but at the upper limits of human reaction time that's a hell of a distance. It doesn't look terrifying on TV but watch him live and unless you're a pro you realise that he is, by your standards, pretty bloody fast.
Then the accuracy. He used to let his head dip at the point of delivery, so he was looking at the ground as he let the ball go. He doesn't quite so much. I've not a clue about biometrics. Maybe he just bowled a lot more balls, suffered less injury and found a better rhythm. Whatever: a sky-high economy rate dipped dramatically.
But in Test cricket a bowler who takes it away from the bat in the mid-80 mphs is still par for the course. We had more than enough of them since 1979, and they all averaged just over 30 and didn't do much when they were up against someone good. But Anderson broke the trend: he mastered the inswinger.
The full magnitude of this achievement has been downplayed. I don't think there's another bowler, ever, who can say they managed it at Anderson's pace. Praveen Kumar, Asif and Ed Giddens did it at medium pace. There are plenty of fast bowlers who found they could dip it both ways via reverse swing, where all that's required is a reversal of the shiny side - Wasim and S. Jones (2005) among the best exponents. And there are plenty who can make the ball hold its line as a counterpoint to the stock ball by scrambling the seam - Hadlee, Alderman. But not one that I can think of with such utmost mastery of seam position. It's something I've tried to master for years now, but I never will.
As of 2009, Anderson genuinely swung new and old ball both ways. I'd never seen that before from a fast medium bowler. I wonder if I will again. There are easier, more reliable ways to get wickets - primarily the Ambrose/McGrath model of bounce and accuracy. Both better bowlers than Anderson. But their gifts were genetically inherited, up to a point, and far less enjoyable to watch.
As long as there is anything in the air, Anderson is near enough unplayable. Have a look at his performances after 2009. In retrospect the turning point was that tour to the West Indies. A tough series on featherbed after featherbed. He bowled and bowled, and tried everything against a pretty shoddy batting line up, for scant reward. When the return series came round in the muggy early English Summer, he was in a beautiful groove. To watch him now is to watch a master bowler in action. Round the wicket, over the wicket, inswing and outswing, conventional or reverse, and now with a wobbly seam ball to test the pitch out when there's nothing coming in the air - there is no bowler with such command of every technique. Dale Steyn is very, very good. Anderson is better.
Those improvements in every area aren't much taken in isolation. A bit of pace, a bit more accuracy, a bit more swing - it doesn't sound a lot, but together they've made him lethal. I single Anderson out because his improvement embodies the reasons England are so good. There are some very good players, but I don't know if any of them will finish their careers as shoo-ins for an all-time great Test side - Trott, Cook and KP have a claim, but it's not their fault their runs have been taken off largely less skilled attacks than the past. As a sum though, I think this team could give any opponent in history a run for its money.
It's all about the small print.
Nice post. I think Anderson's had an absolutely outstanding few seasons -- since 2009, as you say -- but it remains to be seen whether he will be prove to be a true great over the course of his career. He's not there just yet. He's been fairly fortunate with injury so far, in a way that Damien Fleming wasn't.
ReplyDeleteTendulkar's footwork was a bit lazy in that clip but I think the ball does ever-so-slightly more than just hold its line. Having watched the slo-mo half a dozen times I'm pretty sure Fleming rolls his fingers over for a cheeky little leg-cutter. It doesn't do much off the pitch, just straightens maybe half a bat's width, but as we've said before this is a game of tiny margins, and it's just enough to beat Tendulkar without missing off. He really was a very fine bowler indeed.
Ooh I think you might be right. I really can't tell. But yes you're right, the point is that it's a tiny amount of movement (added to the fact it's pitched on a perfect length).
ReplyDeleteAs a batsman you know you've got the footwork wrong when the back leg follows through and you're walking into the shot - it means you haven't got definitively forward so the weight behind your shot overtakes your stride. If I'm facing good quicks on a bouncy wicket I walk into my defensive shots all the time, which is why if I faced a bowler of Fleming's skill I'd probably last six balls at best.