The Small Print

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.

Series of which I have no recollection whatsoever #1

Apparently England went to New Zealand in 1997 and the below happened, which was quite interesting. Good video if you like watching Alec Stewart playing ludicrously elegant shots, which I do. Oddly I can almost remember every innings of the 93/4, 94/5 and 95/6 winter tours, but I couldn't even have told you who we played in 97 before I stumbled on this, while clicking around Rob Moody's awesome archive. I guess I must have discovered girls, or weed, or something that year. Anyway, looks like I missed out.

We had so many players who, on song, looked fucking amazing during that period. That made the fact we were rubbish harder to take. Look at the Tufnell spell in the second innings of the first Test. And he averaged about 40 with the ball? Ridiculous. And that comment by Botham about 7 mins in. Jesus. Sums up everything that was wrong with our cricket at that time.

11/08/11 - Audley End

Definite bit of cricket ennui setting in now. Usually does in August, before the realisation comes in September that there are precious few chances left to make something of the season (it's been four years since I got a ton, and that's certainly playing on my mind). 

Bowled really tightly, which came from that HAC game. On a really flat track against good batsmen where you have to hit line and length, a good long spell can set you up for the rest of the season. So while that first spell was 8 overs for 30, the next ones have been five overs for seven, four overs for nine (which became five for 22, but the ball got wet), and this time eight overs for eighteen (and most of those came at the end). The pitch was incredibly fruity and uneven so probably got away with a few long hops, but still, pretty decent spell. 

Little else to say. Other bowlers were terrible, opposition were good, and they set us 260 off 40 to win. Finished a hundred short and we weren't even bowled out, which suggests some of my team mates for the day (I was guesting) had rather given up the ghost and decided to have a net. This when they weren't rowing among themselves over some not-very-controversial umpiring decisions. I asked to go down the order as had some work to do, but didn't get a bat. Lovely ground, even if the pitch is a bit of a shocker - got some good snaps this time round. Weekend off, much needed - when CC returns he'll be far more enthusiastic.

07/08/11 - North Middlesex CC

Or - the problems with orchestrating a game.

Two teams end up playing each other due to a complicated balls-up with fixtures. One is old and very bad at cricket. Let's call them Team A. They are often reliant on CC for most of their runs, and a glance at the title of this blog will tell you how well that works. Accordingly, they've won one game all season. Team B are youthful, exuberant, and good at cricket. 

How do you make a game of this? You play declaration for a start, obviously. thus bringing the draw into it. Team B bat first, obviously, so you get half a game. CC opens the bowling and keeps Team B in check in partnership with the help of one of Team A's other not-entirely bad bowlers, but rain breaks come, and the ball gets wet and increasingly hard to control or field cleanly, and Team B's batsman slap the bowling around with even more vigour than they normally would - after 25 overs they have 175.

Fortunately there have been a whole load of rain delays and an early tea is taken. We're now about half way through the time allocated. There has been some grumbling about our over rate from Team B but I'd cite the following:

1) There have been a lot of rain delays.

2) Most of us are old and slow.

3) And cold and wet.

4) And have had to retrieve the ball from various parts of North London two or three times an over.

So a declaration is agreed. And Team A are set 175 to chase in 35 overs. This is a PERFECT declaration, I think, because:

1) It'll look like we're in the hunt while I and maybe one other player are batting.

2) But we're really not.

3) But we might just cling on for the draw.

But what happens if Team B's seamers are having a bad day, and I get 64 at a run a ball, and what happens if there's a controversial not out followed by someone slogging for the first time in about 5 years, and what happens if some other guy comes out and is a bit harsh on wides even though they let us get away with non-stop filth in between being hit for six, and what happens if Team A scrape over the line but don't feel great about it because it seems they've taken advantage of Team B's benevolent nature? And what happens if on top of that CC forgets to take any photos of the ground and is left with a lingering sense of incompleteness?

Ah, well then everyone finishes pissed off.

The Spirit of Cricket

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.

31/07/11 - Chiswick Civil Service Ground

Let's keep it as short as possible, for fear of sounding like a twat. 64* out of a total of 130 odd. 5 overs 3-7 as we won by 15. And a catch. Yes it took 40 overs, but they got away with quite a few down the leg side and it was a tough pitch on which to time it. With not much going on at the other end I couldn't attack as I'd have liked. I got much slower as the innings went on - I can feel when my technique's going because the bottom hand gets too involved. By the end of the innings I looked like a number 11. And I'll bowl better for worse figures. They missed the good ones and got out to pies. 

It was a great game - a little reminiscent of the one in Wimbledon, but this time two strong bowling attacks faced two weak batting line ups. I had a feeling that if we bowled wicket-to-wicket 200 was a good score and 150 could cause a few jitters. I didn't think 130 was enough - that low a total and it's a simple equation, really: bat 30 overs, keep wickets in hand and you're unlikely to go far wrong. But the trouble with a total like that is that people think they can go out and settle it with one good over. On that pitch, with the ball not coming onto the bat and just offering to nibble around, and with huge boundaries, that big over never comes. So wicket after wicket fell, and panic set in, and the momentum was with us, and to be honest once they were five down I never thought the result was in much doubt.

Actually, there is something. One thing I've learned from this weekend is that there's being in form and there's being in form. I wasn't timing a thing. I must have faced about 250-300 balls this weekend, and didn't middle many of them. But I was in form. At no point did I think that a bowler was going to get me out, and they didn't. And I faced some good'uns this weekend. I might not always have had my feet moving or my balance right, but I felt like I knew exactly what every bowler was trying to do, where they were going to bowl and how I needed to keep it out. So there were a lot of balls hitting me on the pads in this innings, a lot missed down the leg side, and a lot of mistimed drives into the covers. But I hardly played and missed outside off at all, and there was maybe one shout for LBW which I'm pretty sure pitched outside. 

Last night I dreamt of two different deliveries - the off spinner, the inswinger - each heading down at me, and how I needed to play them - in the first case late, just opening the hands with the turn, in the second case late again, stepping down the line of the leg stump and counter-intuitively playing through the line of the ball. When those movements are ingraining themselves on your subconscious and invading your sleep you know you're spending a lot of time at the crease in your waking hours.

I'm in form with the ball too. I know where to aim according to the movement - just outside off stump when there's some swing, firing it at the pads (I bowl from wide of the crease) with a little bit more action on the index finger when there isn't. There's no effort going into the stuff I send down - it's all about rhythm. It's at times like this that I'm not a crap cricketer. I feel I can face or bowl to anyone of any standard - and this weekend I pretty much have. 

To bat well against decent bowling you need three things - experience, form and some base ability - and at the moment the three are coalescing.  They have before - from about 2004-07, when I rarely put a foot wrong. I was a very different, more aggressive player, but the same sense of ease was permeating everything I did on the field. It went really wrong in '08 due to off field stuff. 09/10 went ok, but I was still finding my way back and averaging under 40 at a pretty average level.

It won't last. Of course it won't last - it never does. But that's why I'm glad I'm keeping this diary. Because when something lets me down - probably the talent side of things, but I'll be wont to blame it on form - I'll be in a pretty black mood. Then I can look back and try to remember how I felt on days like this, half glimpsed, in bright sunlight.

30/07/11 - HAC Ground, London

HAC ground a picture in bright July sunshine, the City tranquil on a Sunday. We got our team wrong and were largely outclassed. But...I've played three games for my second team - not the guys I was playing for today - this season. We play on decent if slightly fruity wickets against proper village sides or club fourth teams, and I usually take the new ball. In every game I've been spanked. Not just unlikely to make a breakthrough - I've gone at seven an over. There have been plenty of misfields and edges, but ultimately these things even out and the big picture is: I've been shit. I'm not just talking this season - I'm talking over the course of six years.

And this lot play at a much higher level. Today I took the new ball on a pitch flatter than the one where the Test's being played and opened up to two class batsman, one an ex-public school first team player, the other an Aussie who'd played grade. The keeper - an ex-international - stood up to the stumps for me. I was expecting to get slapped everywhere. They barely got me off the square. I set a cover sweeper, a third man, and bowled everything on a good length on or outside off. They played and missed at a couple, hit a couple of fours, and that was it. I got one with a yorker and could have had a couple more. The new ball swung a little and then I got it to cut just enough. After the game they presented me with a complimentary polo shirt for being the best bowler in the game.

This sounds falsely modest, but it all seemed a bit silly. I am NOT a good bowler. I'm the guy who gets put on in the middle of the innings when you want someone who can vaguely stick it on the spot. I hit 70mph at a push and swing it a bit and don't do much else. It's not the first time - ever since I was 15 I've got good players - much, much better players than me - out. But no one rates my bowling. I don't rate my bowling. And the guys my second team play, most of whom aren't very good at all, really don't rate my bowling, because they face trundlers like me all the time.

I guess I'm not so slow that you can constantly whack through the line, and I guess I've played enough to know that if you hit the right length you're always in with a chance, whoever's at the other end. But I wish I could bowl like this for my second team. I seem incapable of sticking to a simple plan, trying all sorts of deliveries I'd never have tried today. As it happens, they won their first game of the season yesterday., without me.

As to the rest of the game, carnage, really. We chased 260 off 40 overs (given I'd been tight you can imagine how they cut loose). I came in at 3 and faced a guy who plays international cricket (for the world's 25th best team, no less). He was fucking fast. I shudder to think exactly how fast. He hit me on the arm when he bowled short and I turned my head away in abject fear. It really, really hurt and left a wonderful bruise on the forearm. Kept the rest out and even gave a good impression of being comfortable when he pitched it up, but 7 an over off that bowling? No chance - I'm not good enough. A couple of guys on our team might have been, but they all failed. In the end I was run out for 20 odd. I could have made a lot more because we'd all but given up by that stage, but I figured I should try and get on with it.

So not bad. But best achievement of the day arguably the below snaps.