Shoaib Akhtar said he was fit but he has been left out of the tour squad to South Africa © AFP

Osman Samiuddin

If every Pakistani had a paisa for every time they heard "Shoaib Akhtar has not been considered because he is not fit", then the percentage of the entire population deemed to be below the poverty line might not be as high as 35%. We could probably be a first world country now.

Mind you, it isn't always the truth: like explaining flight delays with the time-honoured "We are experiencing technical difficulties", the line that "Shoaib is unfit" actually is often a convenient way of masking all sorts of troublesome issues.

He is "not match fit" again apparently for South Africa, even though he said
recently that he was. Given that his fitness and form were judged on the evidence
presented from three Twenty20 games, one four-day domestic match where he bowled 21
overs and a three-day training camp (as proof, that is about as passable as that
used to justify the invasion of Iraq) you have to think that there must be something
more to it than just fitness. How else can you really explain not taking Shoaib (it
isn't the doping taint either, for then Mohammad Asif wouldn't be going)?

Pakistan are going to South Africa, where pitches are still quicker and bouncier
than most places. Pakistan have also seen India's pace attack repeatedly trouble the
host's fragile top order. Pakistan also know that their batsmen are likely to
struggle so they will be ever more reliant on their fast bowlers to produce results.

Naturally then the best fast bowlers are to be taken and if you have as many as
Pakistan do, then you can afford to gamble on one who is not fully fit. Especially so if you can afford to give Mohammad Sami another chance, who even when he is fully fit, is a bigger gamble altogether. Rana Naved-ul-Hasan is back in ODI form, but apart from
two Tests against England, the jury is still out over how successful a Test bowler
he can be. And who would the desperately out of touch Graeme Smith and Herschelle
Gibb rather face first up: Shoaib or Sami?

If nothing else, surely Shoaib's experience counts for something. We justifiably
bitch about the measly number of Tests he has played in what will soon be a decade
of international cricket, but at 42, it is still only 27 appearances less than the
five fast bowlers going to South Africa put together. Sami apart, he is the only
bowler with experience of those conditions.

The speculation doesn't appear to be entirely unfounded either and there are suggestions that the captain was adamant about not taking him

So it must be, as plentiful speculation in newspapers for much of this week that
Shoaib would not be picked suggested, because officials and team-mates alike are
again unhappy with his attitude. The speculation doesn't appear to be entirely
unfounded either and there are suggestions that the captain was adamant about not
taking him.

If so, then this is a new development, for Shoaib seemed to have been rehabilitated
last year, while helping Pakistan win a series against England and a Test against
India. He had even, very publicly, made up with Inzamam. What has changed since
then, seeing as he has only played four matches for Pakistan in that time? And is he
now that much of a hindrance to the team that his attitude cannot be dealt with if
it helps win a Test series, as it did last winter?

If he has become that problematic, then does it not make more sense for the board
and the team management to just come out and say it, rather than trot out tiresome
and barely plausible excuses? That would mean, of course, that they be honest and
open and because we've had a paisa for each time they did that, it explains
why there is so much poverty in Pakistan. It also explains why Pakistan will never
be able to fully resolve its complex relationship with Shoaib.

Brian Lara made his third comeback as captain early in 2006 and beat India 4-1 in the home ODI series. But selection greivances, he felt, cost West Indies the Tests © AFP

Vanesia Baksh

The February tour of New Zealand for five ODIs and three Tests seemed a pivotal series for West Indies cricket, but time revealed the pivot to be more of a pirouette. Having lost the first four one-day matches, the West Indies avoided a whitewash with a Dwayne Smith 5-45 inspiring victory in the last game.

By the third Test in Napier - with New Zealand already comfortably 2-0 - Stephen Fleming, the New Zealand captain, was dismissing the West Indies as hardly worth a challenge, observing that they made mistakes in "batting, bowling and every facet."

It was the last straw for captain Shivnarine Chanderpaul, controversially appointed barely a year before to replace Brian Lara. He returned to the Caribbean and resigned, prompting speculation over the identity of his successor; the names of Ramnaresh Sarwan and Daren Ganga were raised with equal gusto but it turned out to be Brian Lara, for a record third captaincy.

At the press conference in Port of Spain where the announcement was made, Lara described himself as a "father figure" and a "leader" in the team. This time around, he said, he would define success as producing a leader, improving the relationship between the West Indies Players' Association and the WICB, "turning the corner" for West Indies cricket, and playing well at the World Cup. He also hoped the resurgence would come under his leadership.

He seemed to be making an immediate impact as the team beat the visiting Zimbabweans 5-0 but, in the way Fleming was looking over West Indian heads in preparation for his South African encounter, so Lara was looking over Zimbabwe for the India visit that followed.

Rahul Dravid's men arrived without Sachin Tendulkar, and seemed to be struggling as the West Indies won the ODIs 4-1. But the upcoming Tests were to highlight the true balance of the teams as they moved from match to match with only draws to show. They turned out to be much more closely contested affairs than had been imagined from either side, complete with dramatic twists and sideshows.

It began innocuously enough towards the end of the fourth day of the first Test in Antigua, when a rampant Mahendra Dhoni appeared to have been caught by Daren Ganga perilously perched at the boundary. Did he take the catch or was he on the rope? Ganga thought he did. Lara believed him. The umpires consulted and couldn't conclude and the issue descended into an unpleasant scene with Lara gruffly taking the ball away from umpire Asad Rauf. Eventually, Dhoni walked, but the tension was palpable.

It would get worse during the series as the matches continued to be drawn and Lara began making it known that selectors were ignoring his requests for fast bowlers. Things came to a head on the final day of the fourth Test at Sabina after India had won by 49 runs to take the series - the first time they had won a series in the Caribbean in 35 years.

At the post-match conference, Lara blasted away at "bad pitches and bad selection," finally opening up fully on what he had been suggesting through the preceding weeks. That morning, after a Harbhajan Singh offbreak went past his edge, he'd pointed sarcastic applause with his bat in the direction of the groundsmen. Before reporters, he elaborated his selection grievances. He had not received until June 29 a letter, dated May 28, informing him that he was part of the selection process. All the while he had been complaining about exclusion from the selection process, no one at the WICB had thought to mention this letter to him.

He went on to air his own suspicions about the preparation of the pitch, and said he would have to reconsider the captaincy. Later, he would write an apology for the outburst, saying he had overreacted. But it did not bode well for future relations.

Cancellation of the Stanford Super Star match against South Africa led to some uncomfortable moments between Allen Stanford, organiser of the hugely popular 20/20 domestic cricket, and the West Indies board © Joseph Jones

There was more controversy later in the year, this time over the highly publicised Stanford 20/20 Tournament in Antigua - an issue in which the extent of Lara's influence was revealed. Allen Stanford, a wealthy American based in Antigua, had come up with a lucrative package for cricketers and regional boards to participate in the tournament. Initially, the WICB had been cool towards it but, after considering the couple of hundred thousand US dollars being offered to each administrative board to develop its local cricket, warmth filled the air.

Then the submerged ice began to come up as the timing of the Super Star match against South Africa - which would have generated $5 million - clashed with the West Indies tour of Pakistan in October. Stanford was told the dates were inflexible, and that he could not even be offered a list of the team selected for that tour so he could choose his Super Star team. WICB President Ken Gordon said it was upon Brian Lara's advice the team for Pakistan was not to be named until after the Malaysian tri-nation series.

Several contradictory statements were published from the WICB and Stanford's people, and eventually Stanford cancelled the match. This provoked a bitter response from Michael Holding, who resigned from the WICB Cricket Committee, headed by Clive Lloyd, his former captain.

Before the fury could subside, the team was off again, this time for a four-month-long haul in Asia. They managed to reach the finals of two one-day tournaments - the DLF Cup tri-series in Malaysia and the Champions Trophy in India, losing to Australia in both. In Pakistan, they lost the Test series 2-0 and the five-match one-day series 3-1, before returning home to begin preparations for the regional Carib Cup and KFC Cup competitions scheduled to start on January 4, and of course, the World Cup in March.

New man on the block - Morton matures

Runako Morton's third coming after a turbulent start brought a new attitude and commitment that could develop into the right mix of aggression and composure to make him a potent early batsman. He was the anchor during the New Zealand tour with his first ODI century, and scored another against Zimbabwe. His growing maturity was evident in his 90 against Australia during the ICC Champions Trophy.

Fading stars - Wavell's wavering form

As an inexperienced team (Lara and Chanderpaul excepted), stars haven't blazed steadily enough to begin to fade. Wavell Hinds may find his poor form this year shaking his position on a team looking for new blood. A thoughtful player, it would be a loss, but the signs are ominous. He was dropped after the New Zealand tour, and played only when others were injured, but still didn't find his form.

High point - Lara overruns Kaneria

In almost every year that he has represented the West Indies, Brian Lara has provided some special moment that one can coast along on for a long while. This year, it was a spectacular 122 against Pakistan at the Gaddafi Stadium, replete with magnificent bursts like the 26-run over against Danish Kaneria that included three consecutive sixes and two fours.

Low point - 20/20 blindness

The entire handling of the Stanford 20/20 dispute was a sorry mess that reached a sad low when it degenerated into a war of words between Michael Holding and Clive Lloyd. It was appalling to see legends falling at each other's hands.

What does 2007 hold?

The end of an era. For a decade and a half West Indies cricket has draped itself on the arm of Brian Lara, at some points only stirring interest because he was escorting it to the dance. With his retirement probable after the England tour in mid-2007, it ends a turbulent relationship that has been as passionate, painful and exciting as any truly great love story. Nothing on the horizon suggests a new romance soon.

Epilogues

In March the West Indies hosts the World Cup, with games taking place in nine countries and involving logistics on an unprecedented scale. What it brings immediately and in the long term will inevitably be the post-game subject as West Indians tot up the costs and weigh them against the benefits. Whether it will be a celebration or autopsy remains to be seen but one thing's for sure: Caribbean cricket culture will not be the same afterwards.

Peter English

Glenn McGrath's absence will leave a huge gap for Australia © Getty Images

Late next year Australia will face India without half of their bowling attack. More than 1250 wickets will be missing and the replacements will be fortunate to have five Tests between them. So much for all the talk of carefully planned generational change.

With the retirement of Shane Warne and the departure of Glenn McGrath after the World Cup, Australia will lose their most reliable house stumps. Throw in Damien Martyn's exit and the potential of both opening batsmen to join in and the foundations suddenly look shaky.

In 1983-84 Australia lost Greg Chappell, Rod Marsh and Dennis Lillee to coaching and commentating in the one Sydney Test. It was a gutting experience and the cry of "never again" came quickly. The mid-1980s were one of the worst periods in the country's cricket and after Allan Border manned the life support the next generations were planned and the departures were organised to prevent a rush for the door. David Boon, Ian Healy and Mark Waugh were tapped while Mark Taylor chose his moment perfectly and Steve Waugh waved before the nudge.

Rebel tours to South Africa also emptied Australia of talent in the 1980s, although dwindling stocks are not an issue this time. The next level is apparently strong - selectors, coaches and administrators have to say that - but the long-term stability of the senior team has prevented the key performers from being examined properly. Australia A trips and tournaments are useful as a bridge but, like the domestic first-class games, they are not a stringent guide for international success.

Both Warne and McGrath played only a handful of games before they were promoted into the Test arena and quickly adjusted to the water. Young players such as Tait, Johnson, Cullen and Watson have swum on the domestic scene for at least three seasons without extended promotions in whites. The quartet is an option along with Brett Lee, who grows in significance despite a poor summer, for the first post-champions Test. Add in Stuart Clark, the bowler of the Ashes series, and the six viable options will have played a total of 76 Tests, with Lee accounting for 59. Is anyone else frightened?

Stuart Clark has been outstanding, but by the first Test of 2007-08 will have played only nine games © Getty Images

Australia will miss the experience of Warne and McGrath more than their world-beating statistics, which might give players such as Stuart MacGill, Jason Gillespie and Michael Kasprowicz hope of a recall. It might help at the beginning but a longer outlook would be sensible after the periods of Ashes-induced short-sightedness. The clutch of mid-30s players, who have served incredibly well, has blocked the passage of the younger brigade and the ride could be bumpy. It is good news for India.

After the feast comes the should-have-thought-about-this-before famine. Remarkably, Merv Hughes, the Australia selector, said the day before Warne announced his farewell that it would be irresponsible to let a group of players go at once and they hadn't "nutted out" a succession plan. Three have already left and after the elongated and emotional celebration at the WACA more could be on the way. Andrew Hilditch, the chairman of selectors, might plead for them to stay.

Warne and McGrath deserved to pick their times and have done it when supporters are wishing for more instead of less. Of Australia's greybeards they are the ones who have the right to stay longest. The nation will miss and thank them over the next two Tests while wondering how they can be replaced.

Possible Test squad for 2007-08 Phil Jaques, Matthew Hayden, Ricky Ponting (capt), Michael Hussey, Michael Clarke, Shane Watson, Adam Gilchrist (wk), Brett Lee, Stuart Clark, Mitchell Johnson, Dan Cullen, Shaun Tait.

All that is good and bad about Sreesanth's spunk epitomises the new Kerala © AFP

Anil Nair

He doesn't have the time today, and there's always the fear of being mobbed. Once upon a time, though, before he became an icon in his home state of Kerala, Sreesanth would follow a tiring nets session at Kochi's Durbar Hall ground by accompanying his club coach and mentor, Shivkumar, to the promenade along Marine Drive. They'd walk to the unused jetty at the northern end, lean on its wooden railing and gaze at the Ernakulam-Vypeen ferry make its slow passage along the sleepy river. Under the setting sun and cotton-wool sky, they'd spend the time in contemplative silence, taking in the space.

"Looking at him in the middle of a cricket match I often used to wonder if it was the same kid I knew", Shivkumar recalled. "Even then he seemed to have two distinct personalities - the quiet, shy boy on the one hand, totally transformed when playing, almost demonic."

The latter Sreesanth was in evidence to the world, of course, during the Wanderers Test when he not only bowled a match-winning spell but also displayed the "demonic" side of his character. Once again his penchant for the bruising contest and the big stage was in evidence. From famously removing Sachin Tendulkar in the domestic Challenger Trophy and getting Brian Lara out for a duck at Antigua down to the peach that undid Jacques Kallis at the Wanderers, he's the type who guns for the marquee players.

So how do the two Sreesanths square with each other? The answer lies in the milieu - both cricketing and societal - that moulded him.

The overwhelmingly leftist ideals led to cricket [in Kerala] being seen, as scorned, as elitist. The sprint, the backstroke and long jump, not to mention football at its fast and furious best, seemed better suited to a youth seeking both distraction and a semblance of class conflict

Long before Kerala, Sreesanth's home state, became a tourist hotspot its high literacy levels, remarkably low infant mortality rates, female empowerment and a cultural refinement at par with the first world had prompted the United Nations to propagate the Kerala Model and for the likes of Nobel Laureate Amartya Sen to eulogise the state as "the Mount Everest of social development".

The pretty picture, however, had a seamier side that could be conveniently ignored - a lack of industrial development - as long as State intervention and money from expats in the Gulf kept the near-bankrupt economy floating.

The overwhelmingly leftist ideals led to cricket being seen, as scorned, as elitist. The sprint, the backstroke and long jump, not to mention football at its fast and furious best, seemed better suited to a youth seeking both distraction and a semblance of class conflict. For more than fifty years cricket existed just below the surface, the flame kept alive by a handful of little-acclaimed practitioners.

All this changed with economic liberalisation and the waning of leftist influence and, as business elected itself the new culture, the younger generation began ushering in a strictly functional ethic. Proudly professional, they had no qualms about shifting allegiances and replacing loss. They belonged to Kerala but were new even to themselves, their past locked away and the key lost. The arrival of a cricketer of international calibre was simply a matter of time.

Sreesanth is not afraid of letting his hair down on the field, even if his optimism at times appears naive © AFP

In the Indian team these days optimising one's own effort is balanced by the emphasis on not letting down someone else's. This might be a legacy of the John Wright-Greg Chappell era but for Sreesanth, as with a few others, such attitudes only confirm the new ethos they have imbibed growing up in their own milieu. With Sreesanth there is, though, the danger that his optimism at times is so naïve that it can self-defeating. He himself is aware of it and the occasional restraining hand on the shoulder won't be a bad idea. "I was trying too hard," he said about how he was all over the place just prior to lunch on the second day, having already removed Graeme Smith and Hashim Amla. During the break the coach and captain had a quite word with him and soon he was back to sticking to the correct line and length.

However, what might be less tractable than temperament could be the workings of his own body. "Cricket is so much a mind game, but you also have to listen to your body. When it says 'no', you have to acknowledge it," he had told Cricinfo in May. For the moment, though, as a humbled South Africa will testify, it's a resounding 'yes'.

by Andrew Miller

Click here for a wagon wheel of Gilchrist's innings

After reaching fifty, the Gilchrist of old was stirred into life © Getty Images

Officially, England have yet to surrender the Ashes. On a pitch that's improved with every session, there is still a vain hope that their batsmen might take this Test the same way as last year's match at Perth, and secure the draw that keeps the series alive beyond Christmas.

A vain hope indeed. Nothing summed up the situation quite as emphatically as the WACA's giant replay screen at square leg which, as the teams trooped off at the close, flashed up the menu for tomorrow's play: "Australia win back the Ashes?" it gloated. Presumptuous? Hardly. Premature? Only just.

The terms of England's surrender were negotiated in this afternoon's manic session, when Adam Gilchrist - a man who had come to epitomise all the fears and uncertainties that had crept into an ageing Australian line-up - broke free from his bonds to leather one of the most gloriously cathartic centuries in Test history.

This was the Gilchrist that England once knew and so feared. His maiden Ashes innings, at Edgbaston in 2001, was a similar assassination - 152 from 148 balls, with 20 fours and five sixes - and from that rude awakening, a legend was spawned. Here was a man who transformed the role of the Test No. 7, and made all opponents, but especially the English, wish they had not had the temerity to take that fifth wicket.

The other Gilchrist was the man who went missing in the 2005 Ashes, and for large chunks of this series as well. Until his late gambol at Adelaide last week, he had not made fifty against England in 11 innings and almost four years. England had outthought him and Andrew Flintoff had gained mastery over him, with that simple but oh-so-effective ploy of bowling round the wicket. The demons that once consumed England's fearful cricketers had been turned quite emphatically on their foe.

And that was still very much the case when he was greeted at the crease by a string of five catchers from slip to point and Flintoff pounding in from around the wicket once again. He was on a pair for the second time in three Tests, and so nearly succumbed as well, when one of those typically fierce but foolish slashes just evaded gully and sped away for four. At 5 for 365, an English victory in this mini-contest was realistically their last chance of salvation.

But then it all went flat. Gilchrist carved a boundary an over to sap England's morale and all of a sudden he was on 49 and needed just a single to reach what for him, if no longer for his opponents, was a significant milestone. To aim him in his quest, he was presented with just one close fielder and a ring of men on the boundaries. It was the latest manifestation of Flintoff's short-circuiting captaincy, and within four balls, the full extent of the error had been displayed.

Six, six, four, six was the upshot. Monty Panesar was undeservingly deposited into the record-books with a 24-run over, and England's morale had been as scrambled as at any time in the past twenty years of Ashes hammerings. With Ashley Giles - a consummate team man if no longer a Test stalwart - already flying home to attend to a family illness, a spirit-sapping day had been transformed into a scrap for individual respectability.

Dropped catches are an affliction that daunt teams who are down on their luck, but Geraint Jones's latest aberration was desperate. As he hurtled across the turf to botch a chance that Kevin Pietersen at square leg would have swallowed, he betrayed the anxieties of a man who knows he is running out of chances to impress. As it happens, his actions reprieved Michael Hussey at the very moment he crossed to complete his fifth half-century of the series, but it was by no means as costly as the release of pressure that was offered to Gilchrist.

by Peter English

Michael Hussey proved hard to dismiss, even when below his best © Getty Images

Orderly queues snaked away from the water fountains as the temperature rose. At every interval the clever supporters sought any sort of shade. From the first over hastily-constructed fans were waved on the hills, but they were soon discarded as discomfort was preferred to conserve energy. In the middle session, when Michael Hussey was sweating on his fifth century, the mercury peaked at 39 degrees Celsius and even the batsman was affected by the heat.

Hussey has not failed in five innings against England but this was his most scratchy display. It was also his first Ashes hundred, building on a sequence of four half-centuries, and it was a commendable performance under examining conditions. In the mass of compliments heading Hussey's way another can be added. He is difficult to conquer even when below his best.

England had opportunities but with each miss they wilted like the spectators who escaped to the neighbouring gardens for relief. Drinks were taken every forty minutes and no amount of moisture could re-hydrate the tourists. They struggled, but so did Hussey, and his ability to fight through the subdued patches added to his rapidly expanding status.

"I was definitely going through some times mentally when I was fighting with myself," he said. "I was thinking too far ahead and getting caught up in rubbish. It was very hot, very oppressive and I came in at lunch time almost deflated."

Australia's lead was ballooning by the hundreds and after posting his fifth consecutive fifty the lure of an ice block and an ice bath in the dressing-room must have been attractive. Spurred by his home supporters, who were seeing him for the second time in a Test, and watched by his young family, Hussey grafted through the dropped catches, near misses, an umpiring error and a clang on the helmet from Steve Harmison.

On the Swan River boats powered along out the back of the ground and spectators inside the fences wished to be cooled by their wake. Hussey surged in spurts and kept the local spirits high as England sunk closer to a 3-0 Ashes drowning.

Hussey's celebration was eventful but muted © Getty Images

The pull had been Hussey's most destructive vice and he blasted into the 90s with consecutive boundaries through midwicket. The shot was again on show as he brought up his century and the Perth crowd, which was also reinvigorated by the strengthening breeze, rose to pay tribute.

As the ball careered straight down the ground Hussey began a celebration that was eventful but muted compared to those from his growing list of milestones. After 148 balls there was a yell, a double-arm raise, a fist pump, a bat point to his loved ones and waves of relief. The conditions had eased but, as Michael Clarke and Adam Gilchrist showed later when they reached triple figures in quicker times, it was too hot for too many antics.

In Brisbane Hussey fell 14 short of a century and in the first innings at Adelaide he needed another nine. Two unbeaten half-centuries in pressure-filled occasions followed before he reached the mark he had deserved in the previous five attempts. For Hussey it was a day for a hundred and nothing more, his innings ending with an edge off Monty Panesar for 103. He was unhappy to leave but it was time for a satisfying drink and a peek at the destruction caused by Gilchrist.

by Andrew Miller

'Like a No. 11 version of Ricky Ponting, the rule for Panesar is get him early, or don't get him at all' © Getty Images

Buried deep in the jungle on the island of Utila, near Honduras, there exists a hulking great structure known as Duncan's Folly. Built in the 1970s and 1980s, it consists of seven self-contained buildings including a power generator with a 60-foot concrete shaft well. The ensemble was the brainchild of a visionary architect named Bradford Duncan, who wished to construct the finest and most exclusive hotel complex in the whole of the Caribbean Sea.

Duncan's larger-than-life persona radiated thoughout his entire community, and his business cards described his position as "Governing Overlord of Utila". Alas, none but he could see the goal towards which he was working, and as bankruptcy swamped his enterprise, there was no substance upon which to fall back on. No working drawings of his complex exist, for instance, for they were all inside his head.

Duncan's Folly is also the name of a cricket team that is currently being buried in the Australian outback. A similarly ambitious project, pioneered by an inscrutable seer named Duncan Fletcher, it had the stated aim of becoming the foremost cricketing power in the world by the year 2007. With two weeks to go until the calendar clicks round to that date, the weeds are already growing tall around the foundations.

The enterprise was founded on solid utilitarian principles - those which state that the moral worth of a cricketer is solely determined by his contribution to the batting, bowling and fielding - but this rigid orthodoxy allowed no leeway when the climate suddenly and drastically changed. Today, with a tropical storm already howling through the press following the success of a certain cause celebre, the last pillars of Duncan's Folly came crashing around his ears.

It was one shot that did it, a sumptuous on-drive from Monty Panesar, a man that Fletcher had labelled as an irredeemable bunny. Maybe it wasn't quite the shot that was heard all around the world, but it certainly bounced about in the England dressing-room. "I loved it, I wish I could play the game like that," said a drooling Kevin Pietersen afterwards. "It was better than I've played all series. Monty's definitely got hand-eye coordination, he sets up well, he plays a few extravagant shots, and he's a crowd pleaser."

Maybe, just maybe, Panesar's sudden emergence as a willow-wielder is a testament to the disciplines that Duncan has instilled in him during his exile from the side. But that's not how Fletcher's legions of detractors will see it, and nor does it explain a Test career that is becoming the very definition of indomitability. Like a No. 11 version of Ricky Ponting, the rule for Panesar is "get him early, or don't get him at all".

'He can bat, he can bowl, and his performance in the field was so energetic that no-one could possibly accuse him of being a weak link' © Getty Images

So far, he has made just three ducks in his 14-innings Test career. He fell second ball to Anil Kumble at Chandigarh, seventh ball to Lasith Malinga at Edgbaston, and first ball to Umar Gul at The Oval. Other than that, he has now finished unbeaten on no fewer than nine occasions, and his other two innings have been as revelatory as today's - a gutsy debut innings of 9 at Nagpur, when he and Paul Collingwood added 66 for the tenth wicket and Collingwood recorded his maiden Test century, and a slap-happy 26 at Trent Bridge that included a remarkable slog-sweep for six off Muttiah Muralitharan.

He can bat, he can bowl, and his performance in the field was so energetic that no-one could possibly accuse him of being a weak link. After all, no-one really believed England would have been better off without Pietersen in the last Ashes, even though he held onto precisely none of the five chances that came his way.

Whether England win, lose or draw this match is now immaterial. Recriminations are inevitable after the gross mismanagement of this Ashes campaign, and a proud man and his notable achievements are bound to be overlooked in the clamour. Like his Caribbean namesake, Fletcher also laid the foundations of a great enterprise on ground that, when he started out in 1999, was barely fit to graze goats.

But Duncan's Folly on this tour has been to ignore the genuine claims of a rising star of the game, until such time as his inclusion could only backfire on one party or the other. Happily, Panesar has demonstrated the sort of cool under pressure that is granted to few. Unhappily, his success now reflects abysmally on his coach - rightly or wrongly, given the constant line-toeing that Monty has given all tour. The project into which he has been belatedly invited is already an empty shell.

by John Wright

The starts that India get at the top of the order would be vital to their plans © Getty Images

For all teams except Australia, South Africa are like a fortress. They are one team who know how to defend their castle. The opposition don¹t seem to know how to play well there. And that extends to other sports too: even the
All Blacks struggle against the Springboks at home. For India, especially,
it is the toughest place to tour because of the added disadvantage of the
wickets, which offer the least turn of all the Test countries.

When we last went there, in 2001-02, it was only my third overseas tour with
the team. Once there, we discovered we weren¹t fit enough; we didn¹t even
have a fitness trainer in those days. We needed to be fit to fight,
particularly our quick bowlers. Moreover we hadn¹t won many games overseas.
Our poor away record was a noose over our heads.

That was the tour that marked the start of Virender Sehwag¹s career ­ as a
middle-order batsman. He got a brilliant hundred in his first Test innings,
batting with Sachin Tendulkar. That was a game we lost, despite having put
up 372 for 7 on the first day.

It was a raw innings. He had his share of luck, but what favoured him was
that he batted with Tendulkar, something he has always enjoyed. Sehwag was
there for the one-dayers and the selectors wisely picked him for the Tests.
He has now become an opener. Being able to make the transition from the
middle order to opening is nothing short of genius in my book. That innings
was the first time I had seen the quality and the free spirit of his play.
When I look back at my coaching career, that partnership stands out.

Overall, the last tour highlighted the importance of consistent opening
partnerships when you are touring. In Australia last time, even though
Aakash Chopra didn¹t get big runs, he was very solid, and that helped Sehwag
put on big opening stands with him. That was crucial in us doing well there.
We lacked that in South Africa.

Three seamers or bust

We also lacked a quality third seamer. Given the conditions, we needed at
least three. It was difficult to play two spinners because the pitches
hardly turned. I remember we got it all wrong at Port Elizabeth when we
played two spinners and put South Africa in. They put up 362 and we were
bowled out for 201.

You have to play six batters, three seamers, and two spinners, or three
seamers and one spinner, if you want to play six batters and a keeper. The
quandary for Sourav Ganguly and me then was that in playing three seamers
and one spinner, we had to leave one of our two best bowlers out: Harbhajan
Singh or Anil Kumble. You have to go with your best players.

Individually, Indian bowlers have done well in South Africa, but as a team
they have failed. More than anything, particularly with a young attack, you
have to bowl in partnerships. There's no point in one guy bowling well and
the other going all over the place. South Africa are a good side; they will
sit back when the bowling is good, and go after the bad spells. The Indian
bowlers have got to make sure they find the right length early. Lots of
people make the mistake of bowling too short at Johannesburg.

Individually, Indian bowlers have done well in South Africa, but as a team they have failed. More than anything, particularly with a young attack, you have to bowl in partnerships

Sreesanth and Zaheer Khan look like the bowlers who can do well there, but
they need to have the discipline. I have worked with Zaheer, coached him.
When he is fit and strong, he is very capable. The bowling combination will
be an interesting choice ­ whether to go with India¹s strength, two
spinners, or one. Irfan Pathan and Mahendra Dhoni probably give them the
scope to play five batters, a wicketkeeper, and five bowlers. In the end it
all boils down to Rahul Dravid and his confidence in his bowlers. It¹s
Dravid who has to figure out a way to get 20 wickets. The key could be how
India bowl when they bowl last. If they are playing spinners, the first
innings is going to be crucial for batting and the fourth for bowling.

A bit of chin music

It¹s a difficult tour for the batsmen in particular, because there¹s a bit
more bounce and movement than they are used to. You have got to play the
ball under your head. You can¹t be pushing at it ­ you have got to play
behind the ball and let it come to you.

Looking at South Africa¹s attack, which is all fast bowlers, I would look at
doing the majority of my scoring after tea. You have got to have wickets in
hand after tea. As they won¹t be having much spin, there are chances the
fast bowlers will tire towards the end of the day. The first innings of the
Tests are going to be very important.

For me Dhoni could be a special player. He looks like he can make the
required adjustments. It might be argued that he doesn¹t seem to have the
right technique, but it¹s not about technique all the time. Moreover he has
the basic technique to go with his mental strength. He looks like a player
who can adapt.

Dhoni could be the special player for India, feels Wright © Getty Images

The importance of Viru

I understand Sehwag is going through a bit of a rough patch, but who
doesn¹t? As long as he is fit ­ physically fit; that¹s always important for
Sehwag ­ and as long as he remembers how he was playing when he was doing
well, and what works for him, he will continue to be a special player. I
hope he is not playing with any pressure on him.

Probably watching that innings from the last tour again might help him. It
always pays to watch any video analysis. You can see when you were playing
well ­ you feel it, you know in your mind that you were playing well that
day. Then you can compare it with when you are struggling. It could be a
slight movement of the head, it could be that you are not going quite
forwards, and it could be a matter of three inches. But you see it quickly;
you feel it.

There is talk that Sehwag might do well if he dropped down the batting
order, but I think he is an opener now and he shouldn¹t be asked to change
again. He has opened successfully in every other part of the world and
there¹s no reason why he can¹t do that in South Africa.

It¹s an important series for Tendulkar too, as he is coming back from an
injury. I saw him briefly in the Champions Trophy, and although he didn¹t
get too many, he looked to be playing well. He should not be a cause for
concern. I have never questioned Sachin¹s ability to perform, and that will
continue as long as he keeps playing.

Five years is a long time and a lot has changed since we last toured South
Africa. Those were still early days of rebuilding the team. India are a
better team now, they know the South African conditions better, and are
certainly better placed now than then.

John Wright spoke to Sidharth Monga. This article first appeared in the December issue of Cricinfo Magazine

Marlon Samuels showed he's capable of unbelievable strokeplay when in the mood © Getty Images

David Gower once wrote that the two words he hated the most, after "caught Dujon", were "laid back". He made batting look so easy that people were lulled into believing it came easily to him and, when he failed, that he didn't care enough about it. Marlon Samuels must make it his ambition to remove the words on his day from the keyboards of journalists and mouths of commentators when they talk about his batting. And that he can only do by playing like he did today, with regularity.

The talent is undeniably there. So much so that when he played his first defining innings - that blistering unbeaten 108 against India at Vijayawada in 2002 to take the series scoreline from 3-3 to 4-3 in West Indies' favour, Viv Richards, who was with the team, was the first man on his feet, on the balcony applauding.

That was a series played on flat decks where both teams chased down scores in excess of 300 with an ease that was not de rigeur at the time; that was a series where both teams packed their sides with batsmen, and successive individuals just walked out and teed off, destroyed bowlers and made captains weep.

This series, though, hasn't been similar. Although the pitches for the Test series, which West Indies lost, had little in them for the bowlers, the surfaces for the one-dayers have been uncharacteristically spirited. There has been occasional kicking bounce, there has been turn, there's been a fair share of seam and swing. Inevitably, wickets have fallen early. And the challenge for batsmen has been to primarily to see off the new ball, and then consolidate and counterattack.

Samuels did that brilliantly today. For sure the ball was moving a bit early on, and Rana Naved-ul-Hasan was putting a shape on it that would have tested any right-handed batsman, with the ball moving away late. Samuels played and missed a lot early on, often being squared-up and being made to look a bit foolish. Importantly, though, the ball merely beat the bat, it never took the edge.

Once Naved-ul-Hasan was out of the attack, Samuels knew that the toughest bit was behind him. With the pitch easing out - the ball did not move enough but still had decent carry - the ball came nicely on to the bat and Samuels could trust himself more, hitting through the line and over the top. The early signs of this expressiveness came when Rao Iftikhar Anjum was first chopped past gully and then blitzed through cover for consecutive boundaries; the confirmation was a pulled six off the same bowler that was pelted with so much power and timing that it sailed over midwicket.

If there was one batsman in world cricket who needed a big one, it was Samuels. Perhaps not so much to reconfirm his own belief in his ability but to remind the world what he is capable of

He brought up his half-century off only 61 balls and, with the team only needing to score at a little more than four runs an over, Samuels, batting up the order, was well in line to make a big one. But for three-and-a-half years - since June 8, 2003 against Sri Lanka at Barbados , Samuels has never taken the chance. That was the last time he made it to 50. In the interim period, he was fast becoming a Mohammad Hafeez in reverse - going from a batsman who bowled a bit to a useful bowler who could contribute with the bat. When he batted low down the order you sometimes felt relieved, for a spot in the top four might have just exposed Samuels.

There was only so long that Samuels could ride on the back of that brilliant hundred against India. One international century does not make you a batsman - ask Ajit Agarkar, who has a Test hundred at Lord's. There was going to be a time when someone younger - like Lendl Simmons perhaps - came through the ranks, and the West Indies simply could not afford to carry Samuels any longer. Before this series began, Samuels had gone 22 matches without reaching 20 - to be fair to him he did bat low down the order in many of them - and in 13 of them he didn't even get to double figures.

If there was one batsman in world cricket who needed a big one, it was Samuels. Perhaps not so much to reconfirm his own belief in his ability - he said at the post-match presentation that he always knew he had it in him - but to remind the world what he is capable of. From writing off Samuels as someone who could have done so much, the conversation will now shift to just how much joy he brings with his unbelievable strokeplay - on his day.

'As for the England supporters, it's normal service resumed. Gallows humour is restored, sorrows are drowned in the local brew' © Getty Images

Ever felt that you arrived at a party too late, just after most of the guests have gone and there's only the supermarket own-brand beer to drink? That's how it feels to arrive in Australia ahead of the third Test.

"You here for the cricket?" asked the Michael Clarke lookalike at the immigration desk. He'd probably dreamed up a thousand wisecrack responses in his head but he didn't even register a smile. In fact, I'm not sure he could even look me in the eye.

No one is talking about comebacks or what ifs. To the Australian players and media, it's a done deal, all over. The Ashes are back. The public, or at least the ones I've spoken to, are hopeful that the series still has some life in it. My impression is that the Aussie public want their own 2005. They saw last year's series on TV and, despite their side's defeat, they were awestruck by the quality of the cricket and the closeness of the finishes. And they wanted their own version in their very own backyard. But what they've had so far has just been like all the rest in recent memory, except worse because England actually had a chance this time.

As for the England supporters, it's normal service resumed. Gallows humour is restored, sorrows are drowned in the local brew, sightseeing becomes more appealing than watching net practice (not that they're allowed in the ground). There is an absence of tension. An ad in a Perth bus shelter proclaimed a 'super cold' beer as a 'Pom's worst nightmare'. Boom, boom. But unless that's what they choked on in Adelaide, I can think of plenty
of other things keeping England awake at night this past week.

What I'm clinging to is the 'fact' that in the last four and a half years I have seen England play six Tests abroad and they have not lost any. My colleagues tell me that I'm jinxing the team. I say that's the sort of glass-half-empty thinking that got us into this mess in the first place. Ask an Australian how he is, he says: "Good, thanks." Ask a Pom, and he'll
say: "Not bad."

Ask an Australian how he is he says: "Good, thanks." Ask a Pom, and he'll say: "Not bad."

England's strategy at Adelaide was all about not being bad, about not being as bad as they were in Brisbane. For four days they managed that successfully. Only rarely, though, were they actually bossing the game. They scored too slowly for that and failed to take their one big chance when Ashley Giles dropped Ricky Ponting.

The over-riding sense was relief that Brisbane had been an aberration. Now England were in the series and we could all settle down. But the problem with aspiring only to parity is that if you slip up, you lose. If you're always aiming to win, parity is a fall-back.

Now, we know from Duncan Fletcher that the England batsmen didn't set out just to hang around on the last day at Adelaide. But not very deep in their subconscious must have been the sense that survival, and only survival, was their goal.

Jeremy Snape, the one-time England spinner turned professional psychologist, says that part of how you develop confidence is to shift focus from outcomes to performance. As soon as you think "we only need to draw this" you are in trouble. You're thinking outcome rather than performance, of how you actually go about achieving your goal.

The scoreline being what it is, England can't be thinking about outcomes any more. So maybe it's time for a performance. And that's not jinxing them, it's just positive thinking.

	Sourav Ganguly played with confidence and an air of calmness © Getty Images

Jamie Alter

Straight off the bat, this is not just about the runs he scored. This is about a man who came, saw and conquered - if only for the moment - the demons in his head, the ghosts in his past. This is about a man with so much to prove, recalled to his country's cause not so much because he was in form but because the so called 'marquee' players had all but lost themselves to the Indian management's faith; a former captain let down by his own board, yet who had done little to suggest over the past ten months that he had the cojones to play Test cricket again.

This is about Sourav Ganguly and his 141-ball, 224-minute 83 against the Rest of South Africa at Potchefstroom, as strong a statement of intent as there can be. When he walked in, the Indians had lost Wasim Jaffer, Virender Sehwag and Sachin Tendulkar with just 37 on the board. When Ganguly left, they had crossed 200, 115 splendid runs had been added with Irfan Pathan, and had taken a huge step towards securing a morale-boosting tour win.

And a man with reason to feel embittered had done enough to show his detractors that he belonged there at that very moment.

This was an innings of so many dimensions and emotions. He was wary about the balls he played, he arched his back, he watched his back lift, he cover drove, he edged, he was dropped, and he copped a nasty Nantie Hayward lifter smack above the right ear.

Given all that had transpired over the past year, given the conditions of his selection, and given the situation the Indians were in, Ganguly walked out to the middle at Potchefstroom on December 7 with a fathomable amount of pressure on his shoulders.

Countless television channels in India filled the airwaves with images of Ganguly batting for hours at the nets, running laps around the Eden Gardens, and stressing on how serious he was about making a comeback. For those who chuckled at the footage and Ganguly's quotes about sorting out technical difficulties, it is important to raise here the issue of his technique. After the first day's play, Ganguly revealed what had been noticed in his innings: "In India, I take a leg-stump guard. Here, I decided to take a middle-stump guard. When you are out of the team, you get a lot more time to analyse your batting, otherwise you're just going from one series to another and you don't get much of a chance. I've had time on my hands and I've worked on certain things."

Too true. He was no longer flip-flopping with a tentative front foot shuffle or just plain stuck in expectancy of the short ball. Rather, he played with upright balance, distributing his body weight better, his shortened backlift allowing him to play much straighter. And his head was still. Absolutely still. Where Jaffer misread the movement of the ball, Sehwag the pace and length, and Tendulkar and Laxman were drawn into tame prods outside off stump, Ganguly got right behind the line, played with a full face of the bat, and soft hands, and kept the ball as close to the ground as he could.

'I've had time on my hands and I've worked on certain things' © Getty Images

His first boundary was a glance down to third man, the second a four to the point fence via a misfield but, once in the 20s, he produced two shots that revived memories of the greatness he used to perch upon. First, Morne Morkel, the day's wrecker-in-chief, pitched ever so slightly on a full length and was driven through cover and mid-off. Hayward served up a half-volley outside off stump and was square-driven through point.

There was a moment of worry, and I'm sure scoffing in some corners, when he ducked into Hayward's next ball and had the medical staff out for an examination. But in the bowler's next over, Ganguly slapped consecutive fours through point and extra cover, one back-foot, the other elegantly off the front, to indicate that he was not in South Africa to be intimidated. The bouncers, ducking, and cover driving - and the odd word from Hayward - continued between Ganguly and the South African pacers all morning and afternoon, until he finally departed, edging an attempted cut off Friedel de Wet to the 'keeper.

What thoughts rested or raged in his head as he stepped over the ropes and made his way to the crease, only Ganguly will know. What he felt when he mistimed a drive to midwicket and picked up a single to get to 50, we can assume. What he felt when he walked back into the Indian dressing room, with 83 hard-earned runs to his name, the knowledge that he had done what a famed top-order hadn't, should not be surmised. Therein lies the beautiful complexity of an estranged individual. There was a bittersweet touch to his contribution following a second-innings duck, but for his unwavering focus, judicious shot selection, and resolve to get into perfect position, Ganguly's 83 should merit automatic selection for the first Test at Johannesburg.

He said - on his recall

"They [critics] told me that I had achieved everything in any case, played for the team for 11 years, been captain for five - what else did I want to get out of the game? But I just felt I still had it in me to play at the highest level for longer. At some level, I felt my career will be incomplete if I simply give up now."

They said - Greg Chappell on Ganguly's move to take middle-stump guard

"It was a smart move. It showed that he had applied his mind and come up with the right method to overcome the conditions. He looks calm, relaxed, very fit. He looks like he's worked hard on aspects of his game. He's applying both mind and method and that's showing."

Chappell speaks, in praise again, of Ganguly's footwork

"That was very important too [play off the front foot as much as possible]. It allowed him to take his decision just that much time later. By leaning forward, he was able to judge the length of the ball accurately, which also allowed him to leave the right balls. That's why he could also play his shots without too much of a problem."

From the inside - Dilip Vengsarkar, India's chairman of selectors

"It's good to score runs in the first match of a tour and it will stand him in good stead for the Tests, which are the ultimate. I hope he performs, I think he has it in him to score runs and it is good to see him back."

Nicky Boje: a loyal soldier for South African cricket © Getty Images

It has been a pretty ordinary 12 months for Nicky Boje - at least as far as international cricket is concerned. On the domestic front, both professionally and personally, things have progressed smoothly which made it all the more difficult to accept the way he was treated when involved in playing for his country.

Almost exactly a year ago he was left out of the first Test against Australia at the WACA ground in Perth as South Africa opted to play an all-pace attack on a pitch which, uncharacteristically, played low and slow. Recalled for the Boxing Day Test at the MCG, he bowled poorly (as did most of the attack) and was promptly jettisoned for the one Test match outside of the subcontinent that every spinner dreams of playing in - New
Year at the twirler-friendly SCG.

But he wasn't just dropped. He was dropped and replaced by Johan Botha - a man who had only been bowling offspinners for a couple of years and whose action was widely thought to contain a 'kink' even before he was smuggled into Australia under the media radar a couple of days before the Test.

Then, not only was Boje dropped from the Test side, his services were not required - highly surprisingly - for the VB Series which followed the Tests. A one-day regular until then, Boje found himself back at home in Bloemfontein while Graeme Smith's men struggled against Australia and Sri Lanka and failed to reach the final. Soon after arrival he learned that his national contract was not to be renewed.

Boje ploughed on loyally - and royally for that matter - taking a remarkable 30 wickets in just four first-class matches for the Eagles in domestic cricket. And guess what? When Botha was banned for chucking, the national selectors looked around the country and noticed that the spin cupboard was pretty bare. Apart from Boje. So they recalled him, with no contract, for three Tests against Australia on home soil.

Boje went to Sri Lanka in August too, and was singled out for praise by both Mahela Jayawardene and Kumar Sangakkara after their world-record stand of 624, noting that he had been "extremely unlucky". In the second Test, a nail-biting affair won by Sri Lanka by just one wicket, he collected four second-innings wickets and came close to winning the game.

So it was fair to assume that his Test career was back on track even if Haroon Lorgat, the convener of selectors, had drawn a line under his one-day career. It came as a shock to every cricket follower in the country when "frog-in-a-blender" wrist spinner Paul Adams was recalled to the Test squad three days ago. This was after two years in the wilderness in which he has barely played domestic cricket. For Boje it was also a slap in the face, opening an old wound.

Then came the salt. Lorgat, in attempting to rationalise Adams's recall, said: "I have always said if we want to become the best team in the world, we have to develop or
find a world-class spinner who can take wickets. Apart from a spinner, we have a strong team."

Boje may not be a world-beater, and he is certainly no Warne or Murali. But he is still a fine cricketer and a proud family man. For the last 12 months he has had sand kicked in his face. Now he's had enough.

by Tim de Lisle

Playing on, and on but at whose expense? © Getty Images

A cricketer's life is made up of a million little decisions. Should he play the ball or leave it, attack or defend, hook or duck, run or shout "waiting!", shape it in or away, go over or round the wicket, bust a gut or bowl within himself, sign for Gray Nicolls or Gunn & Moore? Big decisions, on the other hand, are few and far between, unless he becomes a captain. He might get right to the top and never have a real dilemma. But in the end he can expect to face a big one: to retire or not to retire.

Damien Martyn has taken the bold option, going suddenly, not hanging around for a last hurrah. His departure was as crisp as his offside strokeplay. A tough decision that the selectors had ducked, by bringing him back last season, ended up being taken by the player himself. The same may happen with Ashley Giles in the next few months.

It's understandable that selectors should be confused. International cricket careers are like jeans: there's much less agreement than there once was on how long they should be.

Mike Atherton, who retired at 33 after 13 years with England, said recently that long careers were over. He cited two of his opening partners - Graham Gooch (20 years an England player) and Alec Stewart (14) - as having the sort of careers that wouldn't happen any more.

It's true that England careers are getting shorter in terms of time. The typical major one now lasts 12 to 15 years for a batsman, about 10 for a bowler. Nasser Hussain spanned 15 years (with two long gaps, when the England selectors regarded him as more of a troublemaker than a
potential saviour), Graham Thorpe 12. Darren Gough lasted nine years in Tests, making a Martyn-like exit, but then going the other way and sticking around for 12 years in one-dayers. Andy Caddick managed a round decade, 1993 to 2003, and signed off with an Ashes seven-for.
He's not in Australia now, is he?

Around the world, careers are getting longer, when the injury gods allow. Brian Lara made his Test debut 16 years ago this week. Sachin Tendulkar is past 17 years, which means he has been a Test cricketer for more than half his life. Anil Kumble is on 16, three more than Bishen Bedi. Wasim Akram did 17, Waqar Younis 14. Courtney Walsh did 17, where most of the great West Indian bowlers settled for 12.

Tendulkar has batted for 48,000 minutes in international cricket, which is 5,000 more than Steve Waugh, and probably more than anybody ever, though Geoff Boycott would have done it in one innings if he had only lived a little earlier and played in the Timeless Test

But the most dramatic change has come in Australia, where careers have ballooned like children's waistlines. Glenn McGrath has done 13 years and still wants more. Shane Warne is coming up to 15 years and probably thinking in terms of another five. Old Chinese proverb say, if a man appears in adverts for hair studios, he's not about to rush out of the limelight.

When excellence and durability combine as they have with Australia's 35-year-olds, something else follows: the next generation misses out. Only two current Australian players have a realistic chance of following Warne and McGrath up into the rarefied air of 120 Test caps:
Ricky Ponting, who will get there next year and possibly go on to break all records, and Michael Clarke. Other players, even when they are as good as Mike Hussey, are going to get half a career, if that. It's going to be fascinating to watch the big woolly moustaches on the
Aussie selection panel manage these transitions.

Troy Cooley, the only man currently on the way to his second successive Ashes triumph, says fast bowlers can go on to 40 now, and McGrath is hoping he is right. But nobody actually has. Even Walsh stopped at 38. Richard Hadlee and Imran Khan just made it past their 39th birthdays, although both at reduced pace, and in less treadmillish times, and Imran converted himself from a bowler who batted into a batsman who bowled.

A few years ago there was a theory that miles on the clock were what counted, rather than sheer years. Waqar Younis may have been a case in point (though doubts about his birth certificate rather muddied the waters), and Marcus Trescothick could be now. But if cricketers were like cars, some of today's veterans would already be in the scrapyard. Tendulkar has batted for 48,000 minutes in international cricket, which is 5000 more than Steve Waugh, and probably more than anybody ever, though Geoff Boycott would have done it in one innings if
he had only lived a little earlier and played in the Timeless Test.

Yet Tendulkar still has an appetite. And so do Muralitharan and Warne, who have bowled 50,000 international deliveries each, while only one other man (Kumble) has passed 41,000. How long is a career? We are in the process of finding out.

by Jayaditya Gupta

To justify outrageous costs television could well become more intrusive, arguably, to the game's detriment © Getty Images

There are celebrations, no doubt, in the world of cricket over the auctioning of the ICC's TV rights from 2007 to 2015. It's not known exactly how much ESPN-Star Sports will pay for the rights but it's believed to be double of what the ICC earned the last time, which puts it at around
$1.1 billion.

While it pales in comparison to the $1.5 billion Rupert Murdoch's Sky Sports paid for three-year rights to telecast English Premier League football, that's a huge, huge figure by cricketing standards. No wonder the ICC's wise men, assembled in Dubai for the purpose, were over the
moon.

No complaints about the figure, then. Nor even about where the money is going. If indeed cricket is to grow into a truly international sport (despite the obvious hurdles such a quintessentially English game presents), beyond the Commonwealth, it needs money. That it now has.

No quibbles there, either. Yet one wonders what this will do to the game itself. Too much money - and the hankering for still more -- has already eaten away at the soul of football, turning a working man's sport into an indulgence for the wealthy; the meat pies have been famously replaced by prawn sandwiches.

The most obvious concern among cricket fans, and not just the anoraks or Long Room traditionalists but the common folk who just love their sport, is the high pressure that TV companies will come under to recoup the high cost of rights they have bought. Cricket became entertainment long ago; 30 years ago, to be precise, when Kerry Packer turned the game on its head with coloured clothing and innovative marketing. Yet that was to prove a point - that the game, in effect, belonged to everyone - and, point proved, cricket returned to a semblance of normalcy.

Normal conditions were suspended, at least for Indian viewers, in March 2003 when Set Max unleashed its version of cricket coverage with Mandira Bedi and her noodle straps playing the moll to a panel of grizzled ex-cricketers. The sound of jaws hitting the floor in disbelief was
drowned out by whirr of ratings hitting the roof, justifying Set Max's decision to break into new territory and buy cricket telecast rights. The domino effect was staggering, as the news channels, caught up in intense, often insane, competition, succumbed like the English batsmen at Adelaide and chased the lowest common denominator.

Later that same year, ESPN-Star Sports, the same outfit that won the ICC's rights for the next eight years, pepped up its coverage of India's tour Down Under - a series accompanied by enough cricketing drama - with the Shaz and Waz Show. For those of you lucky enough to have missed it, it featured two great former cricketers engaging in puerile locker-room banter, usually with a girl from the crowd who'd drawn the short straw and had one eye on the exit. The result was obvious: though response was mixed, the bottomline was that everyone watched.

'The logic is simple: If India play, Indians watch, advertisers pay. Take India out of a tournament and the revenues disappear' © Getty Images

It's impossible for ESPN-Star to reverse the trend, and frankly implausible to expect them to even attempt it (though they could use Twenty20 as their vehicle for regression into laddish humour). ESPN may have the match telecast rights but will have to fight for eyeballs in the
pre- and post-game shows, and during the breaks.

The more serious concern, of course, derives from the enormous power that India - home to a majority of ESPN-Star's viewers - now wields. It's nothing new: around 40 per cent of what GCC paid the ICC for the rights last time was recouped from Set Max for the India rights. Lalit Modi, the BCCI vice-president, had told Cricinfo that Sony paid $208 million of the GCC's $532 million.

Already responsible for around 70% of cricket's global revenues, the Indian viewership is the main factor for any cricket tournament to break even. It's why match telecast in India is squeezed down to six balls an over - sometimes less when DD gets into its emasculating act - and is shorn of the drama just before and after an over. That sort of saturation advertising is also why the BCCI's grouse against the Champions Trophy, and the threat of not participating, was a matter of serious concern. The logic is simple: If India play, Indians watch, advertisers pay. Take India out of a tournament and the revenues disappear. There were strong rumours during the last World Cup of the pitches being suited to Indian batsmen because an early Indian exit would have been disastrous. In any case TV channels love batting pitches in ODIs because they maximize the length of the game; anything remotely sporting runs the risk of early closure.

It's not unusual for TV programming to dictate what happens on the sports field: the time-outs in American sports are perfect for lengthy, revenue-spinning ad breaks. Football has long been hostage to TV money; the 1986 World Cup in Mexico was scheduled with the European audience in mind so you had the world's best footballers running around in the noonday sun. The top European leagues have to work their match schedules to suit the demands of TV programming, so that in England, for example, the traditional Saturday afternoon kickoff is almost a rarity. It affects the fan who wants to support his team: Imagine traveling from Newcastle, in the north-east, to Southampton, on the south coast, in time for a noon kickoff?

The fans at the stadiums is something neither TV channels nor the BCCI has to worry about, yet that should be another cause of concern. The global cricket economy is based on the pulling power of the Indian team; that's less than two dozen players. Not a league, not a fixed structure, nothing of permanence. A handful of players, most of whom will definitely not be
around in 2015. That involves several what ifs, chiefly, What if the Indian team has a long-term lack of quality players and a long spell of bad results? And what if, as a consequence, it makes early exits from the big tournaments?

Which brings us to the inevitable point: Can cricket television stretch to make the kind of money that ESPN-Star Sports are paying. Simple arithmetic - the money spent divided by the 165 matches available (going by current schedules) in two World Cups and three Champions Trophies - leaves the broadcasters having to recoup $6 million per match. Not much of a surprise, then that SetMax didn't even put up a bid this time.

Of course, it may all end up apple-shaped: India's current young bunch could be the next Dream Team, the eyeballs will be glued to the screens, the advertisers and sponsors will be smiling. It's not impossible. If only we could get back cricket coverage as we knew it.

	England's inability to take wickets cost them dearly at Adelaide © Getty Images

Ian Chappell

If ever confirmation was needed that the Australian way of playing cricket is superior to the English method, the final day of the