My campaign to get Kevin Pietersen to open the batting has gained another welcome recruit in the person of the proprietor of the Confectionery Stall. His support is most welcome as recent events have demonstrated how essential it is.

For a start, we have to preserve what little is left of the sanity of the TV commentators. If the first wicket falls and Pietersen does not come out to bat, they immediately start weeping and wailing that Pietersen has to bat at three because you need your best batsman coming in early. If he does come in at three, as happened at Cuttack, they then start weeping and wailing that Owais Shah should have come in at three because he is the man in form. Round and round they spin, and nervous breakdowns beckon.

If KP continues to refuse to open, the only way of settling Botham’s tiny mind is for Pietersen and Shah to come out together at three.

As tactics go, this is not a promising one. I was at a Sunday game in the 1980s when a Middlesex wicket fell. As was usual, a barrel with the word “Gatting” on its back rolled down the pavilion steps and out to the wicket, but the innings which followed was most uncharacteristic. There was poking and prodding, but no short-arm jabs for four as was customary.

My friend Paul got out the binoculars and scrutinised things.

“That’s not Mike Gatting out there,” he said, after a long look. “That’s Aftab Habib and some other bloke from the second XI sharing Gatting’s shirt.”

All was now clear, of course. That lack of technique or talent was definitely Habibian – those who saw his later appearances for England may well remember the bat held in random positions vis-à-vis the ball during his mercifully brief appearances – but the results were less than gratifying as the two of them departed for 7.

I can’t help but think it would be unlikely to work in this case either. Pietersen and Shah are both inventive, to be sure, but what happens when KP wants to play a switch hit and Ace wants to flip the ball over short fine leg’s head? Either they start fighting or we discover how truly elastic those shiny new strips are.

The other reason for KP to open is to avoid further embarrassment to Alastair Cook. Cook is in the squad in his official capacity of Next England Captain, a post which is as ceremonial as that of Prince of Wales.

Prince Charles may declare the odd public building open when Mumsie can’t make it, but mostly his duties consist of moaning about modern architecture and entertaining trees with his Goon Show impressions. What he doesn’t do is the real stuff of monarchy, such as opening Parliament or getting the nation to gather round the TV after lunch on Christmas Day and watch the royal holiday videos.

Similarly, Cook should not be expected to play ODIs, as he is even less suited to opening in 50-over cricket than Ian Bell. Making up the numbers in the touch rugby and giving indiscreet press conferences in which he lets slip that Stanford really was all about the money are much more the thing for him until KP retires.

Unless Pietersen does the decent thing, and soon, Cook’s royal personage will continue to be insulted. With the captain enjoying immunity from prosecution, such treason may lead to the coach being imprisoned in the Tower of London on the team’s return to England.

Hmm. Now that’s an idea …..

Today, I received my regular M.C.C Newsletter from Lord’s which talked about some of the issues that were canvassed by the M.C.C World Cricket Committee Meeting in October. It talked about the decline of spin bowling and the need to get away from the philosophy that “if the first ball seams, it’s a good wicket; if the first ball spins, it is a bad wicket”.

At the Gabba last week, we saw a fairly mediocre New Zealand batting line up clinically dismantled by a four-pronged Aussie seam attack. Given the wild storms that hit Brisbane in the days leading up to the game, it was no surprise really to see a pitch that was even more conducive to fast bowling than is normally the case. This is usually a surface that favours the quickies anyway – the ground staff worked miracles to prepare a playing surface of this quality.

Initially, when Australia was bowled out cheaply in the first innings, there was the usual debate about whether the pitch was too helpful to the seam bowlers. Sensible commentators simply accepted that this was part of the challenge of playing in Australian conditions and no more excuses were made for a fairly poor batting display by most of the batsmen apart from Michael Clarke and Simon Katich. Daniel Vettori was magnanimous in defeat, conceding that his batsmen did not have the skills or experience to cope with these very-Australian conditions. No apologies, no excuses.

A few ignorant callers to a radio program that I host referred to the so-called ‘doctored’ pitches in India as an excuse why the Australians surrendered the Border-Gavaskar Trophy. I'm afraid I failed to grasp their logic.

In general though, many cricketers still cling to the notion that hard, fast and bouncy = GOOD but low, dusty and spinning = BAD. Even in lower levels of cricket, the word ‘good’ is invariably used to describe a surface that is hard and fast whereas a dry, slow pitch that looks like it might turn is immediately disparaged. Perhaps it is an inadvertent use of the term ‘good’, unlike in horse racing where it is merely used to describe a certain type of surface rather than give it positive or negative attributes. For too long, cricket has always associated fast pitches with being good pitches.

In Mumbai in 2004, Australia was bowled out chasing a low score and the pitch was widely panned for being sub-standard because they scored less then 100 runs in the last innings. In the very next Test, NZ was shot out for 76 at the Gabba on a good wicket. A few weeks later at the WACA, Pakistan were humbled for just 72 runs in the final innings but there was still no question whatsoever about the quality of the pitch. It was just that the hapless touring teams were unable to cope with the skills required to cope with the extra pace and bounce. No apologies, no excuses.

It was not always so. In the 1980s when the West Indies fast bowlers were running rampant, Australia deliberately prepared spinning pitches in Sydney for Bob Holland, Murray Bennett and even Allan Border to spin Australia to victory. The mighty West Indian batsmen had their techniques shown up as being inadequate to even counter part-time spinners like Border. No apologies, no excuses.

The famous Gabba pitch is now under threat from a plan to rip it up to make the centre wicket area softer for the winter football codes. If this happens, it is likely to lose the unique character that makes it such an attractive cricket destination. That will be a shame because one of the great things about Test cricket is watching touring sides cope with first day conditions in steamy Brisbane at the start of a series. If you can’t handle the pace, bounce and seam movement, that’s just bad luck. You come to Australia, you learn to play on our pitches. No apologies, no excuses.

So long as the reverse also applies for Test cricket played in other parts of the world. As Sachin Tendulkar once said “just because it spins, does that mean it’s not Test cricket?” No apologies, no excuses.

The greatest controversy in Kiwi cricket this week is not whether Andy Moles is the right man for the NZ coaching job, the pros and cons of Brendon McCullum batting (and under-performing) at No. 5, nor is it our team’s ability to play two good days of Test cricket but not four, nor is it which seamer to bench for Adelaide.

Nope, none of the above. In fact it’s a marketing idea, now canned, which would have seen Dunedin embracing the slogan “It’s All White Here” for the upcoming New Zealand vs West Indies Test match (December 11-15). The idea was nothing to do with the Ku Klux Klan or Romper Stomper but a cricket take on a popular approach to marketing rugby here in New Zealand. Under the “Black Out” fans are encouraged to wear black if they are going along to support the All Blacks.

For the Dunedin cricket Test, the idea was a to inspire a “White Out” with everyone donning their finest lab coats, sheep suits, Playboy bunny costumes, bridal gowns, Elvis flares, stormtrooper kits, nurses’ uniforms and cream tuxedos. Harmless – and despite the axing of the official campaign, students all over the South Island should plough on regardless and embrace the idea.

By virtue of the deranged decision-making by the local government bureaucrats involved, it ironically threatened to become a sliver of accidental genius and one of the most successful marketing campaigns for Test cricket in recent years. Never before has the marketing of one match attracted so much attention outside the province of Otago.

Was this a brilliant example of “controversy marketing”? Not merely a gimmick, but a risky move with full follow-through that was undertaken to spark PR for Test cricket that money couldn’t buy? If so, it was a fortnight early: it should have been unleashed once the West Indies were here – then the controversy would have stood a better chance of translating into eyeballs.

I think some of the post-slogan reaction has been a little over the top. Speculation that the West Indies would boycott the match would not just be sad if true, but utter madness. Let’s recognise it for what it was: an ill-advised marketing tagline, devised in a cocoon in the deep south of New Zealand. That sense of perspective was adopted by the West Indies coach John Dyson when he arrived in New Zealand this week: “We've been notified of it but we're concerned with cricket. We just want to play the game.” Good man.

A little bit of wider audience-testing might not have gone astray, and would have highlighted the potential for it to be misinterpreted. However, whether through poor judgement or reckless risk-taking, that didn’t happen. To the nation’s credit, as soon as it was revealed in public, it was questioned and hammered from all sides.

The most foolish response was the initial one from the Dunedin City Council, as it continued to deny even the merest possibility of racial overtones “between the lines” of the campaign. There was no intent, but it was poor judgement to not admit there was a degree of ambivalence in the words. As Richard Boock put it succinctly in the Sunday Star-Times: “It might have even been funny had officials reacted with enough alacrity to dismiss the idea as an unfortunate gaffe when they had the chance last week.” Offence was being taken, whether the Mayor of Dunedin liked it or not, and it would have been a good time to be contrite.

On Saturday night, NZ Cricket’s new public affairs man issued yet another apology to appease the West Indies and its players with NZC CEO Justin Vaughan saying: “I appreciate that it had the potential to be misinterpreted, and I apologise to the West Indies players and officials for any offence taken – none was intended.”

The fact is that the West Indies are a hugely popular side when visiting New Zealand – some of the Beige Brigade’s best cricketing days have been on the bank watching New Zealand thump the men from the Caribbean. It would be a terrible shame for any lingering discontent from a misguided council campaign to overshadow the summer tour, but it will provide a new obsession for the media, rather than banging on about the Stanford-filled pay packets of the West Indies players. One thing is for sure, New Zealand’s cricketing administrators will be walking on eggshells when Chris Gayle, his sunglasses, and his team are here. Look out for some awkward moments – and hysterical headlines.

	Replays have made run-out decisions and stumpings much simpler © Getty Images

Many theories have been put forward to explain the recent (say 1990s onward) increase in the number of Test matches that have not ended in a draw. The usual suspects are better fielding, the dominance of Australia, faster scoring, better catching, more aggressive batting habits inherited from one-day cricket, and so on.

I'd like to think that a small contribution has been made by technology, more specifically, the use of side-on cameras to help decide line decisions like stumpings and run-outs. I do not have precise dates or numbers at hand, but I would be very surprised to find out the number of these dismissals has not increased since the introduction of television replays and third umpires. Any statheads out there that are willing to do the hard work and put some empirical meat on the bare bones of my wild speculation?

The run-out decision is a notoriously hard one, and always has been for umpires. They need to quickly get into place to make an effective call, and while this is not so difficult when the batsmen are running two or three, it can take some nimble stepping when a quick single is on. Batsmen have been given out when they were in, and not-out when they were out. (I suspect the latter was more common.) But there is also something about the nature of the call itself that makes it a hard one. Two events must be tracked simultaneously, the advance of the batsman, or his bat, towards the crease, and the dislodging of the bails, and then the judgement made which one occurred first. It sounds simple, but it can be a dodgy call when people are screaming (both the fielders, and the crowd).

Stumpings are a little easier when the batsman is dancing down the track, but the overbalancing ones and those where the batsman is dragged forward and then tries to slide his feet back into the crease are hard to give. I'm willing to bet we've seen many more stumping decisions of this kind in recent years due to the use of the third umpire.

The use of the third umpire has also affected umpires themselves in the way they handle these decisions. Very few umpires now raise the finger when it comes to these calls. Now, everyone turns to the television screens to find out the result of the appeal. Even dismissals which should have been total no-brainers (c.f. Amit Mishra running out Ponting at the Nagpur Test) are now referred, and unsurprisingly so. Why take any chances when a quick check can be carried out? Indeed, when Tiffin gave Collingwood out in the third India-England ODI, I almost fell out of my chair in surprise. The non-replayed decision has become so rare.

Of all the technological additions to cricket over the years, this one gives me the most satisfaction. The referrals don't take that much time, the decisions are correct 99% of the time, and there is no scope for complaint. I suspect umpires don't mind this particular intrusion too much. Sure, it's taken away some of the pleasure of watching an umpire's finger go up, shortly after the stumps are sent flying by a direct hit and an appeal shakes the remaining timber, but that's a small price to pay for knowing that the decision came out correctly. And that the game is one wicket closer to a result.

At least the third game wasn’t quite as embarrassing as the previous two. If they continue to improve at this rate, they might win a game before the series is out. It is frustrating because the players in the team are actually pretty good. Individually, these boys can play: where it goes wrong is when they all have to do it together, because the team does not know how to function collectively.

That is not an allegation that the team is faction-ridden or fighting amongst themselves – they at least appear to be a harmonious bunch – but that the cogs of the machine rarely mesh together and produce something more than a bunch of independently-spinning axles.

But I am convinced that each individual in the England team is a good enough player. Changing the personnel is unlikely to have much effect (although I have no idea at all why Alastair Cook is in the one-day squad). The selectors should now leave well enough alone and let them work out how to win a game which is not at Chester-le-Street or The Oval.

The one possible exception is Monty Panesar, who is now in India but not officially part of the squad.

However, I don’t see him providing any useful answers. That he cannot bat is not the problem: at worst we end up with a tail of Harmison, Anderson and Monty. That he is feeble in the field is something of a problem, but it ought not to be beyond the wit of the rest of the bowlers not to bowl lines and lengths which encourage the batsmen to hit it in his direction all the time. The real problem is that he is so slow to learn anything.

In Kanpur, Harbhajan effectively throttled England’s middle order by bowling differently to the way he had at Indore, and he will no doubt bowl yet differently in Bangalore because he will be able to read the pitch and the situation when he bowls and produce something appropriate. The chance of Panesar being able to emulate that is zero. At least Swann has some chance of doing so, even if he is much less of a bowler to start with.

So what hope is there for the line-up we saw today? Some, if you ask me, though I don’t claim to know anything much about 50-over cricket.

KP chose not to follow the advice I proffered in my last post but did the next best thing by promoting Bopara to open. He may have no experience of it at county level, but anyone who can get a double hundred in a 50-over game has to be worth a go, and today’s effort makes it a good move. But Bell seems to have taken some notice, so I will desist from sharpening the axe I was threatening to bring down on his neck.

I am agnostic about the captain dropping Shah to six and going in at three himself. I’m not sure how much more Pietersen offers than Shah: Owais is a faster starter than KP and would do more to keep up momentum when a wicket falls early, but KP would be the first to 70 assuming either of them get there.

I suppose there’s enough evidence that improvement is possible to make it worth watching on Sunday. At least it’s on at a less unsociable time.

There are two things which England need to do to improve their fortunes. First they need to break Yuvraj Singh’s ankle, kneecap, wrist or whatever other body part will force his absence for the remainder of the series. The other is to admit that the experiment of having Ian Bell opening the innings has proved to be a failure.

I admit that I am always bemused by Yuvraj’s success. There is no guarantee that an overseas signing will light up the county championship, but few turn out to be as disastrous as Yuvraj was at Yorkshire. So dire was he that he was relegated to the Second XI, and even there he did little of note. A nickname was rapidly coined, though it does seem a little awkward now to be referring to a man who keeps making one-day hundreds as 'Yuseless'. He has yet to shake off the tag when it comes to Test cricket, but in the one-day arena he is as clean a striker of the ball as you could wish for - unless you happen to be bowling to him – and his spin bowling is more than handy.

England need to get rid of him, and soon. Fair means having failed to dislodge him, the only alternative is skulduggery. Getting him arrested on some trumped-up criminal charge and held for questioning until mid-December would be effective, as might arranging to have him discovered in flagrante with the wife of the chief of selectors, but in the end you can’t beat some good old-fashioned violence.

Ian Bell has eight hundreds and nineteen fifties among almost 3000 Test runs at an average over 42. He is as delightful to watch when on song as Mark Waugh was, the ball sent skimming to the boundary with delicately-timed, seemingly effortless strokes, classy as a Waterford crystal glass containing a martini as dry as the Atacama.

His batting is the perfect cocktail party guest, sparkling with elegance and debonair charm, but batting in the top three in international cricket is not a cocktail party. At the sharp end of the innings, the batsman is facing the charging bulls who use the new ball, so he must be either a matador who feints and dances before administering the coup de grace or a rough, tough cowpuncher capable of wrestling the beast to the ground – and Bell is neither.

Since Marcus Trescothick opted for a quieter life on the county circuit, England have not had an opener who can regularly subdue an attack before it gets on top. This matters less in England, where a strategy of keeping wickets in hand and accelerating throughout the innings is usually very effective, but overseas it is almost guaranteed to cede the initiative.

Bell is trying to be more assertive but it comes off as Bugsy Malone let loose in “The Godfather”. It is possible that he will develop a tougher crust, in time – but can England afford to wait around while he does?

Part of the problem, of course, is that there are no obvious alternatives. Some county openers adopt the desired aggressive tactics in domestic games, but several of them have been tried out by England and been found wanting. Prior does it for Sussex and is now making an unimpressive fist of it for England, just as Luke Wright, Phil Mustard and Darren Maddy have. They could try Scott Newman of Surrey, but that is scraping the barrel.

The bolder course would be for the captain to take the job on. If there is anyone in the side who is capable of facing down pace bowlers and giving them a piece of his bat, it’s Pietersen. Yes, his preferred position in real cricket is at number four, but there’s a certain Indian gentleman currently taking a bit of a rest who bats at four in Tests but has spent a long career opening in ODIs with great success. And if Tendulkar can do it, surely Pietersen can too.

So come on, KP, lead from the front.

	Jesse Ryder is a somewhat unknown quantity for Australia © Getty Images

Jesse Ryder is the new messiah of the Black Caps. The New Zealand version of Greg Ritchie is something of an unknown quantity for Australia, and his magnificent timing and utter disdain for bad bowling augurs well if Watson, Clark and Johnson dish up anything short and/or wide. That belligerent streak can be his Achilles heel of course – a la Craig McMillan he tends to occasionally contract a bit of white crease fever that affects his decision-making.

We are going to pick four pace bowlers. We must do so in order to give ourselves a sniff of winning. The sticky weather in Brisbane this week makes it even more likely. The downside of course is that none of them are Richard Hadlee – and not one of them is Shane Bond either. I think it is time we amended the Bring Back Buck banners (a common sight at all NZ sports events, alluding to rugby player Wayne Shelford’s axing from the All Blacks in 1990). Yes, it is time for the Bring Back Bond banners to start appearing with monotonous regularity.

Simon Katich. Are his nicknames really Stiffler and Duck Blaster? Quite odd. More certain is the fact he is ugly but effective in grinding away at one end, while Hayden bludgeons away at the other. Katich is also much more comfortable against Vettori. Brilliantly rebranded as “Simone Cattick” by an Indian journalist during his recent press conference whinge about negative Indian tactics. In the same news item, the two batting Michelles pop up too: Hussey and Clarke. New Zealand couldn’t be beaten by a pack of girls, surely?

We have the best wicketkeeper in the world. Maybe. Of course he is playing as a top-order batsman so his run-making ability needs to take precedence. A savage player on his day, he will be dreaming about Jason Krezja.

Australia is not a Third World country … so Matthew Hayden should feel comfortable. Complacent even. Completely irrelevant but should get a few bites from rabid Indian fans just for mentioning it.

Our top order is made of the wood that Phil Horne was nicknamed after: balsa. In fact if you took a moment to zero in on our most recent 10 opening batting efforts against Australia you would be holding your head in your hands by the end of it. An average first-wicket partnership of 14.8 means the bar is set quite low for the Gabba.

Ricky Ponting is angry. Very angry. Incandescent with rage. He is set to put the devil in Tasmanian Devil. He has the Peter Roebuck voodoo doll in effect. Rumour has it he might even wear that famous gift from his grandmother under his cream Test shirt on Thursday as well: yep, the “Future Australian captain” t-shirt. Hopefully he is distracted enough to not add too many to the pile of runs that sees him sitting pretty as the most prolific scorer of Test runs at the Gabba in history.

New Zealand have not said anything too stupid in the lead-up. The serial offender, coach John Bracewell, appears to have been completely muzzled or perhaps he is speaking in tongues so complicated even journalists can’t crack the code. (Is Braces actually over there?) Of course, the same reporters have manipulated our players' words and headlines to make it sound like we think the Australians used to be good, but now they're rubbish - sample headlines: “Kiwis claim they have the firepower to tackle Oz top order”, “Hands rubbed with glee as empire looks crumbly”, “Black Caps can be number one” and “NZ zero in on Ponting”.

Tonight, Australian cricket has proved a point to itself and to me. Australia played the AllStars team led by Adam Gilchrist in a T20 match at the Gabba. It was meant to be a sort of practice match and a sort of exhibition match.

Normally, Australia doesn’t DO this practice/exhibition thing very well. Anything that is not played to win is something that most Australians find hard to get their heads around. It’s just not in their nature not to be super competitive. If it means firing one past Grandma’s nose in the Backyard Test, well, she asked for it. That’ll teach her to get on the front foot and drive me on the up past the rubbish bin and over the bbq!!

That’s why I wasn’t quite sure why I was at the Gabba tonight. It’s normally not my cup of tea to watch a meaningless T20 game with nothing at stake, surrounded by rowdy patrons on a Friday night. But I’m glad I went.

It was a game played at high intensity and at a blistering pace. Shaun Tait was slinging it down at 150 k’s and Michael Dighton from Tasmania hit a six first ball over third slip. It was that sort of pitch. Peter Siddle, after 8 weeks on the slower pitches of India, let fly with a few searing bouncers that went straight over the keeper’s head for five wides. And he smiled.

Brad Hodge played some stunning shots to remind us all that if any Australian batsmen slip up, he can still mix it in the very best company. Justin Langer too peeled back the years and struck a few balls into the crowd.

What was most revealing though was that here was proof that Australian cricket can be played hard and fast but can also be played entirely in the right spirit. There was none of the snarling and muttering that we saw from both teams in the recent Border Gavaskar Trophy. It was just high quality cricket, played by high quality cricketers with no ‘mongrel’ necessary.

What this shows is that Australian cricket too often sells itself short. It's too easy to justify the on-field excesses by claiming that in order to be competitive, they need to fire themselves up by behaving poorly. The sledging and verbals apparently provide the spark to light the genius within.

Tonight’s game has just shown that trash talk for exactly what it is – rubbish. The skills, power and brilliance shown tonight owed nothing to that sort of behaviour. It was purely down to some wonderfully talented cricketers, evenly matched, going at each other with ferocity but without venom. Dropped catches, edges, french cuts and not a hint of the usual vitriol.

Even the behaviour of the crowd was in keeping with this civilised theme. Denied of a team to hate, they seemed to be transfixed by the wonderful entertainment on show from Australia’s best cricketers. They had their personal favourites of course – the local Queenslanders and Gilchrist were cheered louder than most but it just lacked that unpleasant edge that sometimes happens late at night after a thousand beers. This was Australian nightlife at it’s most generous and magnanimous. It’s such a shame that so many of our international visitors to the Gabba don’t get to see this.

The Australian team were ultimately beaten by the AllStars. Some people will point to that and say “see I told you. They were too friendly and that’s why they lost”.

Wrong. They lost because it’s T20 cricket and that happens sometimes. They lost because Australia’s depth is so strong that the ‘2nd XI’ were always a chance to win this game. Perhaps they were a bit tired after the long flight home from India and weren’t quite pumped up for this ‘friendly’ encounter. But don’t make the mistake of thinking that they weren’t trying to win. That would be an insult to both teams.

OK, let’s be realistic – they weren’t playing for sheep stations and perhaps it lacked that little 'something' that comes when you’re playing an International. Even allowing for that, my original point stands. Here were some wonderful cricketers, most of them playing for spots in the Australian team, enjoying cricket for the pure unadulterated joy of it. Smiles instead of snarls. Shrugs instead of sledges. This is what they mean when they talk of playing it hard but fair. Forget the other rubbish of having to abuse somebody to prove you really want to win.

It’s a good to be an Australian tonight. Played hard, played fair, played with a smile on the face. To use an awful cliché, cricket was the winner tonight!

In theory, England and their new captain are on a roll after beating South Africa in September. While conceding that England looked almost competent during that series, I feel it only reasonable to point out that they win ODIs at home quite regularly and the trouble invariably starts overseas. It’s not so much that the wheels come off when they play abroad as that the wheels fall victim to airport baggage handlers and never arrive.

The dismal history notwithstanding, England fans are obliged to clutch at any straws of optimism which offer themselves before the games get underway and grim reality sets in. We can try hoping that India will be so drained after beating Australia in the Tests that they will do a South Africa and roll over and play dead, but since they are replacing almost the entire batting line-up with fresh faces anxious to impress, it’s a faint hope. However, that means that for the first time in living memory the Indians will not be five times as experienced as our lot and may lose their heads once or twice and give England a chance to blow an easy win rather than being crushed as per usual.

There are seven ODIs to endure, so I suggest we play a bit of bingo to keep our spirits up. Just keep this list handy while you’re watching and see your score mount:

Ian Bell gets well set but fails to push on for a ton - 1
“I’m not thinking about the IPL. I just want to do my best for England." - 1
James Anderson goes for more than 16 in death over - 2
Paul Collingwood drops easy catch - 3
Commentator reacts to above with “You don’t see that very often.” - 1
Yuvraj Singh hits Stuart Broad for six sixes again - 50
Broad hits Yuvraj for six sixes - 100
Patel takes Patel’s wicket - 10
Ravi Bopara makes significant contribution - 25
Ian Botham says that Pietersen should be batting at 3 - 1
Luke Wright plays but scores no runs and doesn’t bowl - 2
Harbhajan Singh hits team-mate - 10
Peter Moores ascribes latest loss to players’ existential angst - 20
Run out as Pietersen attempts impossible single to get off the mark - 2
Fellow-commentator patiently explains Laws to Botham - 5
Three Indian fielders collide underneath Flintoff skier - 3
Alistair Cook plays while series still alive - 50
Umpire Bowden dislocates shoulder while signalling six - 20
Pietersen caught off switch hit - 4
Reference to Stanford as cameras pan across to England WAGs - 1
Batsmen forget about third powerplay (or are all out before taking it) - 10
Play interrupted by insects or birds - 2
David Lloyd mispronounces “Guwahati” - 3
Zaheer Khan gets revenge by bowling Matt Prior with giant jellybean - 40
Steve Harmison bouncer clears boundary - 6
Elephant stops play - 100
Gautam Gambhir given out caught off elbow - 15
Graeme Swann wins car and complains it is neither pink nor Ferrari - 8
England win dead-rubber game - 1
England win game while series is alive - 100

Eyes down and look in. Good luck, all!

Send me to the New Zealand version of purgatory, but I feel a micron of sympathy for Australian captain Ricky Ponting. As much as I want to believe his decision to bring on part-timers to up the over rate was a purely selfish one, I can't. In hindsight, it was probably a mistake, possibly an error of judgement, but nothing more.

Why would Ponting calculate that the risk of losing the match and series against India was one worth taking in order for him to get onto the Gabba in a fortnight to face Chris Martin? I believe him when he says he made the decision with good intentions and because he felt an obligation to try and get 90 overs into the day's play in order to be seen to "to play the game in the right spirit". He just momentarily forgot that anything not channelled toward winning at all costs is viewed as un-Australian in The Lucky Country.

Batting, not bowling, lost this Test. If we cast our minds back to day 3, Australia scored a meagre 161/8 from 85.4 overs, an indication that their batting lacked intent. Getting run out stupidly for eight in the second innings was probably the most egregious error Ponting made in the match. His side's total of 209 was poor, but nothing to do with counteracting over rates. The Australian side of yesteryear might have got these runs, but batsmen in positions 2-7 failed in the second dig and that is why they lost the Test. Even if Watson and Lee had ripped through India, a total of 300 looked like it was beyond Australia on the fifth day.

Several onlookers were extremely vociferous in their criticisms. Jeff Thomson was easily the most memorable: "Ponting should have just gone for the throat and worried about the consequences later. Surely team management must have had a say in this as well. What a stupid decision it was. On the over-rate, I'd prefer to watch 60 overs of quality rather than 90 overs of crap."

If I was Ponting I would be hacked off if the cuffs to the back of my head were coming from the bloke whose name is on the trophy you're slogging your guts out to win, the bloke who your country's most coveted player award is named after, the bloke who is a highly respected former captain best-placed to empathise with your position, and the bloke who is a director on the board of Cricket Australia. Allan Border is all of these and as such, he should let commentary opportunities involving Australia go by the wayside.

What I am most gobsmacked about is that the omniscient rent-a-quote of Ponting bashing (and post 1960s cricket in general) has yet to vent his spleen. Surely it is time to poke Neil Harvey with a stick and get him to say something outrageous, like he has done so many times before? Something along these lines would be good: “Back when I was playing and Australia was actually quite good at Test cricket we'd have bowled 270 overs on the first day so that we'd never get ourselves into this sort of trouble, especially against a useless team like India. And anyway, it was a hell of a lot hotter over there in my day. Have I told you how good we used to be?”

As a Kiwi, I love it of course: Australians going feral on each other is what we watch for fun on TV here all year in the form of NRL (rugby league), AFL (Aussie Rules) and the A-League (football) so this fits nicely into that genre.

Ponting must be doing something right. His record reads: 48 played, 33 wins, 6 losses, 9 draws. And if Australians are going to start pointing the finger of selfishness, let's just take a moment to remember which ex-captain stood down from his national selection panel role in 2006 just four months after being reappointed because he was too busy, coinciding conveniently with his personal beer sponsor's launch of a beach cricket circuit in a so-called "ambush" of CA's official beer sponsor. Hint: It wasn't Ricky Ponting.

An Employment Law expert who read my previous post contacted me today. He provided me with some interesting perspectives on whether abuse on the cricket field (in the professional game) might one day finish up in the law courts.

Rugby has already seen instances of players suing each other for high tackles and punches that caused serious injury. Referees have been sued when scrums have collapsed which resulted in spinal injuries. Fast bowlers might have to re-think the old threats of “I’ll knock your block off” lest that be interpreted as premeditated assault. Likewise, sledging and verbal abuse in a professional work environment. Perhaps even selectors might one day be sued for unfairly terminating a career. Where might it end?

It motivated me to do some research on the topic. Here’s a link to a self-help guide to Workplace Bullying in Australia Most countries would have similar rules and laws that govern the workplace.

A hypothetical situation then: what happens if a professional cricketer in Australia encounters any of the behaviours described above? Can he file a case for workplace bullying or harassment against individuals or against the organisation that runs the competition?

He may well be able to take action against any opposition player who engaged in abuse, psychological harassment or intimidation. The umpires could possibly be in the firing line for being unable or unwilling to control a workplace that was under their jurisdiction. The governing body (eg: Cricket Australia) could also be liable for failing to provide a workplace that was fair and free of harassment/bullying practices.

The aggrieved party could argue that their career has been adversely affected or prematurely ended because of the systemic workplace abuse that has been allowed to go unchecked. The court case could see team-mates (witnesses) testifying against each other under oath. Prosecution lawyers would certainly remind them of the penalties that apply for perjury, even against their best friends!

Umpires will be expected to maintain a safe workplace because they are in control of that environment whilst play is in progress. In some senses, it will be no different to the CEO being held responsible for the behaviours that occur in the office, especially if he/she knew about it and did nothing to stop it!

The company itself (governing body) has a responsibility to run a workplace that is free from systemic bullying, harassment and intimidation. Most legal jurisdictions are unlikely to swallow a defence that is based around arguments like “it’s a man’s game, what happens on the field stays on the field, it’s all part of the game, we play it hard but fair etc”.

Cricket is now a multi-million dollar business, from highly paid administrators to umpires, match referees, legal counsel, team managers and the cricketers themselves. When it suits them, they justify their salaries and self-importance by referring to it as a bona fide business operation. Fair enough too. What they must be prepared for now is to be judged in that same legal light when it comes to running the business of cricket.

In today’s increasingly litigious environment, it will only be a matter of time before a cricketer files a law suit of this nature. Lost earnings, lost career, mental stress, nervous breakdowns…the list is endless. Already we are seeing a proliferation of legalities entering the game with High Court judges presiding over appeals and talk of “natural justice” and other such high-flown legal jargon. It’s no longer the amateur game of yesteryear where an umpire or administrator’s verdict was final and they didn’t have to justify everything from a legal standpoint.

The governors of the game might one day have to recognise the seriousness of this cancer and put clear policies in place to make it a decent and fair workplace. Forget the whimsical yearnings for the spirit of the game and all that rubbish. Sadly, those romantic ideals died some time ago. It’s now a serious business, played for high stakes and lucrative livelihoods.

The ICC is full of lawyers who should be able to see this train wreck coming. Will they pre-empt this futuristic scenario or will it be the usual case of policy on the run? One simple question for the administrators – would they tolerate this sort of verbal intimidation and harassment in their plush offices in Dubai, St John’s Wood, Melbourne and Mumbai? If the answer is an indignant and self-righteous “of course not”, then how can they allow it on the ‘factory floor’?

My favorite kind of philosophical discussion involves one where after a lengthy argument about some X, a participant finally throws up his hands and says, "I don't think we have a determinate concept of X".

After many attempts to process the sound and fury generated by Dhoni's 8-1 field placings (day three) and Ponting's bowler handling (day four) in the Nagpur test, I'm starting to think we don't have a determinate concept of "the spirit of cricket". For what else can explain the simultaneous blasting of both captains, one for violating the spirit of cricket, and the other for not?

Let me try and explain my puzzlement at this state of affairs. Dhoni was castigated for violating Clause 2.3 (a) of the Spirit of Cricket, which reads "Thou shalt not set fields that inhibit scoring excessively for doing so may lead to spectator boredom, opposing captain (and fan) disenchantment, and the demise of test cricket." (And bring the wrath of Peter Roebuck and Malcolm Conn down upon your head)

Ponting was castigated for NOT violating Clause 3.7 (b) of the Spirit of Cricket, which reads "Thou shalt always strive to maximize over-rates in Test cricket because failure to do so will lead to spectator boredom, opposing captain (and fan) disenchantment, and the demise of test cricket." (And besides Christopher Martin-Jenkins told us many years ago that the West Indian quicks were destroying all cricket with their dastardly over-rates)

Dhoni was lambasted for playing within the rules of the game, but playing excessively hard and being cynical, for saying "The hell with balanced fields, I've got a series to save, a trophy to win" (Whatever happened to the wonderful land of Hard-But-Fair? Why was Dhoni denied even a tourist visa for that wonderful place?)

Ponting was lambasted for not playing harder, for not saying "The hell with the damn over-rates, I've got a match to win here, goddamnit, a series to square, a trophy to win". Sure, a lot of the hostility directed at Ponting suggested he was merely trying to save his own skin, to not suffer the humiliation of a ban for over-rates. But Ponting was trying to up the over-rates. Why wasn't he praised for sacrificing his team on the altar of the Spirit of Cricket[tm]? The Spirit of Cricket seemed to demand that of Dhoni, didn't it?

I know that the anger directed at Ponting has to do with his general slackness in maintaining over-rates. On which point I agree, he needs to stop his endless waffling on about field placings, his desire to hold lengthy consultations with bowlers and so on. But still, I thought everyone had agreed that over-rates were a Good Thing At All Costs. So Ponting was slack about it. So he fell behind. So he tried to bring them back on board, even at the cost of his team's fortunes (and the enhancement of his own in terms of being able to play against New Zealand next week). But that's not cool. Because one thing captains should not do is sacrifice their team's fortunes for the sake of the Spirit of Cricket. Or should they?

So should Dhoni have messed with India's chances of trying to regain the Border-Gavaskar Trophy by not setting the fields that he thought gave him the best chance of messing with Australia's strategy? And over-rates are only a Good Thing till the point they start messing with your chances of winning a game? And at that point all worry about the spectators, the
demise of test cricket and so on, goes out the window?

Do we have a determinate concept of the Spirit of Cricket?

One thing the India-Australia series was bound to do was generate a few flame wars between Indian and Australian fans. One didn't have to wait long, starting with the sniping in the press, the release of Adam Gilchrist's autobiography and ElbowGate.

One common thread in these debates, at least from the Australian side, is the sense of disbelief that Indian fans could be so unbelievably over-the-top in their sensitivities. Do they really think the world is out to get them? I don't think the world is. But I want to highlight a small part of the subtext to the sensitivities of Indian fans. I do not speak as a representative of the group, but merely want to offer a small personal glimpse into the set of accumulated feelings that could lead to this state of affairs.

Consider umpiring. The Indian distaste for Steve Bucknor was most notoriously on display at Sydney earlier in the year, and we haven't heard the end of that debate yet. But why would Indians ever think particular umpires were against them? What could their motivation be? I'd like to suggest that while there might be no overt prejudice in umpiring decisions against the Indian teams, the alert fan has not been ignorant of what might politely be called an "attitude" towards the Indian team. And that isn't a trust-engendering state of affairs.

Here are two, small, anecdotal vignettes. In the 2001 'Kolkata' series, Peter Willey was umpiring at Kolkata. The Indian 12th man ran onto the ground with either gloves or a bottle of water or a message or all three. Willey waved him off the ground imperiously, much like a District Collector might have waved his khansama off the gymkhana polo grounds. I wonder whether he would have employed that body language to an English or Australian player. I think Willey would have waited till the player was on the ground and gone over to talk to him. In the Delhi Test, Billy Bowden called a dead ball on VVS Laxman, cancelling the runs made by the batsmen because they had run on the pitch. When Laxman asked Bowden why the runs had been cancelled, Bowden put a finger on his lips, much as a schoolmaster might chastise a schoolboy. Again, I wonder whether Bowden would ever have used such a patronising gesture to an English or Australian player.

What does this have to do with the quality of umpiring decisions? Aren't they professionals doing a job? Yes. But they are also human beings, prone to all the foibles of our species. So are Indian fans, in suspecting prejudice subconciously underwrites patronising behavior. And they express themselves the most vehemently on the Net, not the best venue to express subtlety in arguments (those happen best over beers and face-to-face).

Back when neutral umpires were first introduced, I'm ashamed to say I was worried about Pakistani umpires officiating in Indian matches. I wondered whether they would actually be neutral when it came to Indian teams (all the umpiring controversies in India-Pakistan games had left their mark on me). It is both an indication of my current (mild) mistrust in other umpires because of many little incidents like the two I have cited above, that I now feel the most relieved when I see Aleem Dar and Asad Rauf umpiring in India's games. Their umpiring is of decent quality (Taufel beats everyone hands down) and best of all, I never worry about whether they have got their backs up during their interactions with the Indians.

Perhaps my worries are unfounded. But I'm speaking here frankly as an anxious Indian fan, one used to Murphy's Law balefully staring down at the Indian team. I do not offer this post as an exculpation for any over-the-top expressions of national paranoia or insecurity, but just a small glimpse into what might ground the expressions of this very large, very vocal, and very passionate group of cricket lovers.

The election of Barack Obama prompts a thought or two. Before he could become the first African-American President of the USA, smaller mountains had to be climbed by other African-Americans. Long before there could be a black president, Jackie Robinson had to be the first black major league player in baseball, our sister bat-and-ball-sport.

Professional sport is one of the things which drives ethnic integration in a society. In the end, teams which want to win will hire the best players no matter what colour they are. Bigoted fans who initially object eventually come round when the “wrongly” coloured player keeps winning games for them, and so society gradually evolves.

The English population contained very few non-white people until the government encouraged large-scale immigration from the Caribbean and South Asia after World War II. Those immigrants’ children grew up in England, and by the late 1970s some naturally became good enough at cricket to be hired by counties.

When Roland Butcher, Norman Cowans and others were picked for England in the early 1980s, a number of people choked on their gin-and-tonics and said these players were not English and should not be playing for England. In one sense they had a point because the players had not been born here, but the true nature of their objection was proved by them not protesting about, for instance, the Zambia-born Phil Edmonds. The press was full of articles debating what it meant for English cricket, what it meant for the national identity and so on.

In 1998, an enlightened friend and I were discussing the merits of Nasser Hussain and Mark Ramprakash, the two obvious candidates to replace Alec Stewart as the next captain of England. A thought struck us. The next captain of England would be a man with brown rather than pink skin. That in itself did not seem particularly remarkable to us: what caused us to feel good about it was that we could not see that anyone would turn a hair – and we were right. When Hussain was appointed, even the right-wing newspapers failed to run any splenetic diatribes, and most pieces which commented on his being the first non-white England captain had a tone of slight surprise that it hadn’t happened before.

Yorkshire were very slow to hire non-white players. Until 1991, the county insisted that their players had to have been born in Yorkshire, which clearly prevented them hiring non-white overseas players, but there were strong suspicions that the county were deliberately ignoring players who were born in Yorkshire but had surnames like Patel or Choudhury rather than Illingworth or Sidebottom.

The club stoutly maintained that it was not so, but a lot of the Yorkshire fans were very happy that Asian-descent cricketers were not progressing through the county’s ranks. I remember having an unpleasant conversation in about 1985 with a man we’ll call Seth, who was proud he never left the borders of Yorkshire if he could possibly help it and wanted all the immigrants to go back home.

Last season, Seth was sitting with some of his cronies at a table in the Long Room at Headingley, and I overheard part of their conversation as they grumbled about the uselessness of the Yorkshire team this year.

“Nay, nay,” Seth was saying, “yon Rashid’s no bloody immigrant. ‘E were born in Bradford, and ‘e’s got a Yorkshire accent just like thee.”

There is still a long way to go before we achieve a society in which ethnicity is irrelevant in Britain, but little by little we are moving towards the more perfect union of which the President-elect spoke so movingly back in March.

	The players should take a look in the mirror and start behaving like the highly skilled professionals they claim to be © AFP

Perhaps now, finally, after way too much prevarication on the issue, the ICC might finally take a stand on what the ‘Spirit of Cricket’ actually means. It’s clear that no such spirit operates in the real world. It’s just a fancy set of words that mean nothing to the cricketers and officials who are meant to uphold that spirit.

The full media release from Justice Sachs regarding the Gautam Gambhir appeal is a sad indictment of what really happens on the field. It tells a story of abuse and sledging and a subsequent physical response that has cost Gambhir a crucial Test match. The saddest part of the whole thing is that no one is even attempting to deny the abuse and the physical contact any more. It’s now an argument about when abuse becomes too much provocation to prevent physical contact.

The entire transcript from players, umpires and Match Referee is a sordid reflection of what the ICC is prepared to tolerate in this so-called professional workplace.What other workplace would allow such behaviour to occur under the shameful umbrella of “competitiveness, grown men, a man’s game, a tough environment, what happens on the field…” etc? It is now clear that not all cricketers can play by these arbitrary rules. The mere fact that Gambhir’s actions were triggered by the constant provocation proves that different people have different levels of tolerance to abuse. And their reactions can take different forms, on different days, leading to higher levels of abuse or physical contact.

Cricket has a simple decision to make. Is this is a professional workplace or a mere sporting environment? Either definition makes it difficult to legitimise abuse, verbal or physical.

If it is a workplace, then the administrators and players should start treating it as such. They need to start behaving in a manner that is appropriate in a normal work environment. If they expect to be paid the sort of money they justify to themselves by claiming they are highly skilled professionals, start behaving like it!

If it is merely a game and not a profession, then pay them commensurate salaries. And if it is only a game, why get so hot under the collar then? After all, it’s only a game isn’t it? Cricketers can’t have it both ways – it’s either a profession where professional courtesies apply or it’s a game where sportsmanship should take precedence. Or just dispense with all such notions, call it “open warfare” and don’t bother with any pretentions of honouring the Spirit of Cricket.

Some of the blame can be leveled at the match officials. If Billy Bowden spent less time trying to be the centre of attention and concentrated on keeping order and making better on-field decisions, some of the tension might have been dissipated. Instead of waiting for Gambhir to complain to the umpires about the ‘chat’, why didn’t Bowden nip it in the bud? It makes it very difficult for Gambhir to complain to the umpires. He would no doubt cop the usual vitriol about “being soft, being a cry baby, go and tell Mummy that we’re being mean to you”.

The umpires and match referee were obviously aware of the tension that was building up and the verbals that were being exchanged by both teams. That much is clear from Chris Broad’s acceptance that Gambhir had been subjected to a certain level of provocation. Well, if they were aware of a storm brewing, why didn’t they do something about it? Perhaps they don’t have the authority to do anything until it becomes a full-blown incident. And then see what happens….

The ICC should take a firm stance on what’s acceptable conduct in a highly visible public workplace. The players should take a look in the mirror and start behaving like the highly skilled professionals they claim to be. And the umpires and match referee need to have the conviction and commonsense to prevent fires rather than dousing flames or punishing arsonists.

Until all the stakeholders in the game take some of this responsibility upon themselves, the Spirit of Cricket will remain an empty epithet, devoid of any real meaning. There can be no such thing as an “acceptable level of sledging”. What’s acceptable to one person may not be acceptable to another. Furthermore, what’s tolerable one day may be insufferable the next day, even to the same person. Where do you draw the line before somebody snaps?

The tragedy is that it leads to the situation where a double centurion, in the form of his life, misses the final Test match with the series in the balance. Regardless of who you support, that can’t be good for the Spirit of Cricket.

A former New Zealand first-class cricket had an integral role in this week's Melbourne Cup horse race at Flemington. The trainer of Kiwi hope Nom du Jeu was none other than Murray Baker, a legspinner for Central Districts in the 1960s and 70s. It didn't place.

Keep an eye out for another Kiwi cricketer at Flemington on Thursday too – former opener Terry Jarvis is the owner of Rocha, who he bought for $A400,000 in 2007. Rocha lines up in the VRC Oaks, having won the Wakeful Stakes on Saturday.

The Beige Brigade etched another notch on the belt of its cricket periphery with an eye-catching inclusion in The Guardian Weekend edition this week. A feature article on the ills of world cricket? The game’s most magnificent moustaches? An insight into how to create a global cricket supporters' network? No - we were the answer to Q3 of Thomas Eaton's sports quiz on page 118.

Pacey financier and father to a quartet of sons, Geoff Allott is set to become the new general manager of cricket for NZC in March. The new role is the third most important role in the recently restructured organisation behind the CEO and the Chairman. The appointment announcement was fast forwarded after it was leaked to the Dominion Post's Jonathan Millmow on Friday night.

The contenders for Jacob Oram's replacement in the Test team. Babyfaced assassin Tim Southee is likely to come into the XI for Jeetan Patel, but in Oram's position, the jury is out as to whether (a) Grant Elliott is retained; (b) there is set to be a recall for another long individual, Peter Fulton who impressed on the recent New Zealand A tour; or (c) a bolter return for genuine all-rounder James Franklin, set to make his comeback to domestic first-class cricket after a long-term injury.

Otago captain Craig Cumming is a type 1 diabetic. Up until now, slogger Craig McMillan was the only high profile Kiwi cricketer to have publicly acknowledged his wrestle with the condition.

A lack of cricket coverage was credited with a slump in the radio ratings of the country's major sports radio station, the imaginatively-named Radio Sport. The Herald reported: "TRN said Radio Sport is closely tied with cricket, and that causes a natural seasonal shift in figures". After a series of scandalous domestic violence allegations levelled at breakfast host Tony Veitch, he subsequently left his job. His replacement was none other than former opener Mark Richardson who started behind the mic this month.

Merv Hughes has been talking his batting prowess up at the expense of our very own Dipak Patel. He was reported as saying that Michael Clarke’s slog sweep reminded him of himself. “I smacked Patel for five sixes in an over. Thereafter, I called him 6-pack Dipak." Not quite big fella. You hit four sixes in one day in an outrageous knock of 45 at Lancaster Park in 1993 - but only three were off New Zealand's greatest off-spinner of the 1990s. One ended up on the grandstand roof, but he got you out in the end.

They fixed the pitch, they fixed the lights and Sir Allen Stanford kept mainly to his own hospitality box, so most of what had been at fault earlier in the week was cleared out of the way for the big event.

Instead of a cricket match, though, what we got was a conjuring show.

In the first half, each member of the England team was dragged up on to the stage to be made to look ever so slightly foolish as one of the magicians made his leg stump fall over or willed him to bash the ball high in the air to fall neatly into the hands of a fielder placed just there. After the interval, The Great Gayleini spent the second half repeatedly performing his magical ball trick in which perfectly decent bowling disappears in a puff of smoke and the big screen lights up with a huge figure six. It was a consummate performance by the entire troupe.

Sir Allen was clearly delighted that his team won, and will have taken great pleasure in creating a few more Caribbean millionaires. JJDW took me to task after my last post for not expressing outrage that Stanford chose to spend his money on building a pleasant cricket ground rather than a hospital: I take the point, but at least his team’s triumph means that all his money is staying in West Indian economies. A couple of other respondents were keen to point out that he will be ploughing money into West Indies cricket, which may be the intention but depends on the venture becoming profitable. As it will probably make a loss this year, massive financial benefits will not accrue to WI cricket just yet, if at all. But I can’t really get myself worked up either way just because this event centres around amounts of money which are very large by previous cricket standards but small beer when measured against golf, Premiership football or major league baseball.

Even so, some of Stanford’s money went on getting West Indian cricketers to knuckle down to a six-week training camp. This looks to have been well spent. It has been ages since a representative West Indian team has been so fit and sharp in the field or so fired up and determined. When England return to the Caribbean in January, they will not be facing the shambolic underperformers of recent years but a team which has the potential to rip them apart.

After the show, Kevin Pietersen admitted that England had committed the grievous strategic error of allowing themselves to be distracted by side issues to the detriment of their cricket. In the long run, this may be no bad thing. Whether taking a catch wins the Ashes or a million dollars, it still demands coolness and concentration on the job in hand rather than dreams of pink Ferraris or open-top bus parades, and the lesson will not be lost on any of the England squad.

Nor is it a bad thing that the illusion of KP’s invincibility has been exploded. For some of us, England’s being completely outclassed was a reassuring return to form after the disquieting episode of the ODIs against South Africa, when England had shown disturbing signs of being good at one-day cricket. Pietersen needs to realise that tampering with hallowed traditions like England being hopeless in coloured clothing is dangerous iconoclasm and could well be against the spirit of the game.

I find it hard to work up the degree of passion that drives this event’s opponents to apoplexy. Many things will have a greater effect on the sum of human happiness than the Twenty20 For 20, even if we confine ourselves to cricket. Next year’s Ashes will depress one or other set of fans and bring lasting fulfilment to the winning team in far greater measure than a benefit game which does not even count in the official international records. It provided some cricket entertainment at a time far more convenient for the UK viewer than the Indo-Australia Tests, thousands of Antiguans had a great night out and some West Indian cricketers are now much wealthier than they were before. Nobody died, and life goes on. Is that so evil?