First up, two excellent pieces, one on the spirit of cricket, another on the Tebbit Test.
There's been a lot said about the M.S. Dhoni/Ian Bell decision, and I've got nothing to add other than to say I thought all the parties were correct in what they said after the event - from Bell's criticism of himself to Dhoni's rationale behind the decision. He'll have raised his status in England and hopefully in the wider cricketing community. These days it's on India, whether they like it or not, to take the lead in terms of conduct, and though they've been below their best in terms of performance, one can't help but be impressed by the dignified manner of Dravid and Tendulkar, and the enthusiasm of the bowlers. Hell, I'm even starting to like Sreesanth, and I never thought I'd say that.
The lesson from the above article is that the 'Spirit of Cricket' is a distinctly mercurial term. It's odd really, because to me, like a joke, it only reveals itself to be abstruse when you sit down to think about how it works.
The below is what I was taught, by coaches and school and club players, and it's easy to realise that what I believe to be self-evident isn't, necessarily, for everyone I play with or against. Never having had to break it down before, the best method is through analysis of a list of times when I've broken my own rules. Which I guess makes a point of its own, doesn't it?
1. The umpire's decision is final. Yes, even if he's given you out LBW to one that pitched outside leg which you edged onto your thigh pad. Chuntering or showing a flash of disbelief is understandable. Anything more than that is not.
I've taken issue with a decision on the field of play only twice. The first occasion, I have no idea why. I was tired, hungover and upset at being out. I felt like absolute turd after I did it. And the best thing? In retrospect, I realised I was out. What a twat. But what if the umpire's from the oppo and deliberately cheating? Then don't let it get to you. Knock the batsman's stumps over. Or let him cheat and don't say a word. It's on his conscience. If he wants to win a game that way, it's his look-out. But if you're good enough he won't, and then the chances are he'll feel doubly shit.
The second occasion is more interesting. Batsman apparently edges it behind. Huge shout, nothing doing. From mid-on, I utter two words, loud enough for everyone to hear: 'Fucking hell.' Umpire turns to me and says he didn't edge it. I respond, 'Ok, sorry.' Regardless of the apology, unacceptable. But there was a reason. It was a league game against a team who'd flogged us round the park and then skittled us for 34 for the week before. I wanted both teams to know that we had a game on, otherwise it was unlikely the opposition would feel any pressure whatsoever. It worked - we won by 3 wickets. Am I proud of it? No. Absolutely not. It was born of desperation, that was all.
2. Don't sledge. Ok, maybe do sledge, but under two strict conditions: only if they start it, and only if you've got a killer, or at least useful riposte. This is as much pragmatism as anything. Scenario 1 - batsman plays and misses six times in a row. Do you tell him he's looking shit, or the bowler he's bowling well? The latter - because the former's likely to make the batsman more determined to stay in. Scenario 2, which actually happened a couple of years ago - CC is batting and can't get it off the square. Wicketkeeper announces to the team that he's boring everyone's arse off. CC doesn't say anything. 20 overs later, CC is 70* and has just hit 15 off an over. Asks the keeper if he's enjoying it a bit more now. That, I think, is pretty good - it's not really going to ruin the atmosphere because it's vaguely funny, but it also makes a point. Mild stuff like pointing out the run rate I guess is fine, but like I say, why bother when it's most likely to be counter-productive?
I can't really think of times I've sledged other than that. A batsman hooked me for six twice and told me I wasn't fast enough to bounce him each time. I bowled him with a yorker, called him a prick and asked if that was quick enough for him. Nasty of me really, because in retrospect I think he was younger than I thought and actually scared of the stuff I was sending down, and that was his response. But at the time you can imagine how much it wound me up. On another occasion a batsman suggested an edged drive was actually a good shot - I said it was bloody good because he'd managed to get the fielders looking one way and sent the ball the other. Again, he'd annoyed me into saying it, and I felt that he was one of the few batsmen who'd really crack if they got some verbals (and he did).
But the bottom line is this - if you have to sledge, try and make it something that'll make both teams laugh.
3. Don't cheat. Because really, what's the point? Do you enjoy scoring runs when you know you're out? You may as well play against children if you don't want a level playing field. If you're certain - and I do stress you must be absolutely certain - that you're out, then get on your bike. I've cheated once, knowingly. I was playing for my second team against a ridiculously good side, and the mismatch was obscene. My second team were at the time reliant on me for about 75% of their runs. I got a thin one, and I didn't walk, because I knew that if I went there probably wouldn't be much more of a game. Two overs later I lost my middle stump, and felt like even more of a bellend. As for appealing, ask if you think it might be out. You don't have to be absolutely certain, because that's the umpire's job. Don't if you don't because the chances are you'll just piss people off. When umpiring, give it out if it's out and wide if it's wide. You'll get stuff wrong every now and again. Professionals get things wrong every now and again. And players often see what they want to see. So don't listen to their complaints.
4. Do what you can to make people enjoy the game. Because ultimately, if everyone does that, then everyone has a good time. Encourage your team mates. Compliment the opposition when they do something good. Try and keep your banter serviceable at the very least.
There we have it: possibly the most sanctimonious and po-faced post I will ever write. Oddly you can't have fun without the serious stuff.
There's been a lot said about the M.S. Dhoni/Ian Bell decision, and I've got nothing to add other than to say I thought all the parties were correct in what they said after the event - from Bell's criticism of himself to Dhoni's rationale behind the decision. He'll have raised his status in England and hopefully in the wider cricketing community. These days it's on India, whether they like it or not, to take the lead in terms of conduct, and though they've been below their best in terms of performance, one can't help but be impressed by the dignified manner of Dravid and Tendulkar, and the enthusiasm of the bowlers. Hell, I'm even starting to like Sreesanth, and I never thought I'd say that.
The lesson from the above article is that the 'Spirit of Cricket' is a distinctly mercurial term. It's odd really, because to me, like a joke, it only reveals itself to be abstruse when you sit down to think about how it works.
The below is what I was taught, by coaches and school and club players, and it's easy to realise that what I believe to be self-evident isn't, necessarily, for everyone I play with or against. Never having had to break it down before, the best method is through analysis of a list of times when I've broken my own rules. Which I guess makes a point of its own, doesn't it?
1. The umpire's decision is final. Yes, even if he's given you out LBW to one that pitched outside leg which you edged onto your thigh pad. Chuntering or showing a flash of disbelief is understandable. Anything more than that is not.
I've taken issue with a decision on the field of play only twice. The first occasion, I have no idea why. I was tired, hungover and upset at being out. I felt like absolute turd after I did it. And the best thing? In retrospect, I realised I was out. What a twat. But what if the umpire's from the oppo and deliberately cheating? Then don't let it get to you. Knock the batsman's stumps over. Or let him cheat and don't say a word. It's on his conscience. If he wants to win a game that way, it's his look-out. But if you're good enough he won't, and then the chances are he'll feel doubly shit.
The second occasion is more interesting. Batsman apparently edges it behind. Huge shout, nothing doing. From mid-on, I utter two words, loud enough for everyone to hear: 'Fucking hell.' Umpire turns to me and says he didn't edge it. I respond, 'Ok, sorry.' Regardless of the apology, unacceptable. But there was a reason. It was a league game against a team who'd flogged us round the park and then skittled us for 34 for the week before. I wanted both teams to know that we had a game on, otherwise it was unlikely the opposition would feel any pressure whatsoever. It worked - we won by 3 wickets. Am I proud of it? No. Absolutely not. It was born of desperation, that was all.
2. Don't sledge. Ok, maybe do sledge, but under two strict conditions: only if they start it, and only if you've got a killer, or at least useful riposte. This is as much pragmatism as anything. Scenario 1 - batsman plays and misses six times in a row. Do you tell him he's looking shit, or the bowler he's bowling well? The latter - because the former's likely to make the batsman more determined to stay in. Scenario 2, which actually happened a couple of years ago - CC is batting and can't get it off the square. Wicketkeeper announces to the team that he's boring everyone's arse off. CC doesn't say anything. 20 overs later, CC is 70* and has just hit 15 off an over. Asks the keeper if he's enjoying it a bit more now. That, I think, is pretty good - it's not really going to ruin the atmosphere because it's vaguely funny, but it also makes a point. Mild stuff like pointing out the run rate I guess is fine, but like I say, why bother when it's most likely to be counter-productive?
I can't really think of times I've sledged other than that. A batsman hooked me for six twice and told me I wasn't fast enough to bounce him each time. I bowled him with a yorker, called him a prick and asked if that was quick enough for him. Nasty of me really, because in retrospect I think he was younger than I thought and actually scared of the stuff I was sending down, and that was his response. But at the time you can imagine how much it wound me up. On another occasion a batsman suggested an edged drive was actually a good shot - I said it was bloody good because he'd managed to get the fielders looking one way and sent the ball the other. Again, he'd annoyed me into saying it, and I felt that he was one of the few batsmen who'd really crack if they got some verbals (and he did).
But the bottom line is this - if you have to sledge, try and make it something that'll make both teams laugh.
3. Don't cheat. Because really, what's the point? Do you enjoy scoring runs when you know you're out? You may as well play against children if you don't want a level playing field. If you're certain - and I do stress you must be absolutely certain - that you're out, then get on your bike. I've cheated once, knowingly. I was playing for my second team against a ridiculously good side, and the mismatch was obscene. My second team were at the time reliant on me for about 75% of their runs. I got a thin one, and I didn't walk, because I knew that if I went there probably wouldn't be much more of a game. Two overs later I lost my middle stump, and felt like even more of a bellend. As for appealing, ask if you think it might be out. You don't have to be absolutely certain, because that's the umpire's job. Don't if you don't because the chances are you'll just piss people off. When umpiring, give it out if it's out and wide if it's wide. You'll get stuff wrong every now and again. Professionals get things wrong every now and again. And players often see what they want to see. So don't listen to their complaints.
4. Do what you can to make people enjoy the game. Because ultimately, if everyone does that, then everyone has a good time. Encourage your team mates. Compliment the opposition when they do something good. Try and keep your banter serviceable at the very least.
There we have it: possibly the most sanctimonious and po-faced post I will ever write. Oddly you can't have fun without the serious stuff.
From the first article, I see your stance on leg play is consistent withe MCC in 1888. The spirit is theoretically defined in the preamble to the laws that has been published with them since 2000. In fact, when it comes to moral compass, I think of the sports I know , rugby union probably has the clearest code of sportsmanship and values, with a clear and defined system of rewards and sanctions policing the game both within a team and from on high. It however does not look as genteel as cricket, and I think it might be the whiter-than-white whites that gave the Victorian muscualr Chirstians something to latch on to in terms of ethics. CLR James elegantly decostructs this when he writes of Matthew Arnold, and comments on why Grace was so often forgiven.
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