tag:blogs.cricinfo.com,2009:/diffstrokes//139 2009-11-07T04:22:36Z Movable Type 3.34 tag:blogs.cricinfo.com,2009:/diffstrokes//139.13538 2009-11-07T00:21:21Z 2009-11-07T04:22:36Z

I want to see more England batsmen playing like Bangladeshis, hitting out as often as possible even if they get out while doing it. I'd prefer it if they didn't lose their wickets quite as quickly as Bangladeshis, but it's the thought that counts here.

Mike Holmans

Can Joe Denly do the job Marcus Trescothick used to? © Getty Images

  One of the great puzzles about South Africa since re-admission is why they have performed so poorly against England. The last time England toured, in 2004-05, England brought the side which won the Ashes a few months later and may just have had a slight edge which they duly converted to a series win, but on every other occasion South Africa's team has been obviously miles better - until you look at the scoreline and find that if they managed to win at all, it was only by the odd Test, and that they even contrived to lose in 1998. In one-day cricket, at which South Africa are known to be good and England known to be hopeless, the score between the sides in the 2000s is 10-all with one tie and two no-results. I have no wish to know why South Africa underperform against England -- and would rather no-one found out, because the consequence has been fascinating cricket with ding-dong battles and it would be a shame to dispel the magic. And although it would be amazing if the ODI series which is about to begin will consistently emulate the last match these sides played, at Centurion a few weeks ago in the Champions Trophy, we can hope.]]> on Thursday, with the same heartbreaking result. It was one of those games neither side really deserved to lose but someone had to. I'm hoping that the one-day series will be played as that game was. In particular I want to see England taking that aggressive approach with the bat. I want to see more England batsmen playing like Bangladeshis, hitting out as often as possible even if they get out while doing it. I'd prefer it if they didn't lose their wickets quite as quickly as Bangladeshis, but it's the thought that counts here. Their performance in the first warm-up game against Boeta Dippenaar's Eagles is therefore generally encouraging. Only Joe Denly and Paul Collingwood failed to deliver, and Wright, Broad and especially Morgan had strike rates well over 100. (Wright's was higher, over 200, but Morgan played the more substantial innings, starting well before the end-of-innings charge.) I hope Denly starts to do better soon, since he is the new England recruit who most fascinates me. He has not so far achieved much in the way of scores but he does something which very few England batsmen do, which is advance down the wicket to turn fast bowlers' good length balls into half-volleys and tee off in the early overs. It's not the only way of scoring runs at the top of the order, but it is the most effective demonstration that the batsman is intent on dominating the bowler – and that kind of intent has been missing without trace for years from England's one-day side. He is also a superb fielder in the deep: in that game against South Africa he scored only 21 runs, but he took two catches and saved a good couple of dozen runs in the field. The likelihood has to be that England will fail more often than not by taking the aggressive approach in the short term. But they aren't going to get better at playing the aggressive game by going defensive as soon as anything goes wrong: they have to keep trying until they get it right. Denly as much as anyone, and if he breaks through and starts recording the big scores, we will at last have found someone to do the job Tresco used to do. ]]> tag:blogs.cricinfo.com,2009:/diffstrokes//139.13515 2009-11-05T10:31:49Z 2009-11-05T14:18:40Z

Mohammad Yousuf has had ample experience in making mistakes while running between the wickets, but the only mastery he has shown is in refusing to learn from them

Saad Shafqat

Getting run out is a habit Mohammad Yousuf cannot seem to shake © Getty Images

  If you watched the first ODI between New Zealand and Pakistan sitting somewhere in Pakistan, you would have heard a collective national groan when Pakistan’s total was 57 for 2. At that point, Mohammad Yousuf tapped a ball straight into the hands of short cover and took off for a single. That’s “short” cover, mind you – meaning that the fielder was well within the circle and ideally positioned to block the single. Nor was the fielder some uncoordinated slack. Yousuf has picked out the spry Martin Guptill, who nailed the stumps at the bowling end with a direct smash. The groan preceded the run-out, because we all understood in a flash what was about to happen. The one person who appeared not to have grasped the moment, from the looks of it, was Yousuf himself. ]]> The Jubilee Book of Cricket, published in 1897, anticipating the likes of Yousuf by over a century. The general idea is to play the ball into a gap and call your partner. If you play the ball towards a fielder, then the fielder should be some distance away for you to risk a run. Your vocabulary should be limited to “yes”, “no”, and “wait”. Yousuf’s interpretation of running between the wickets represents a variation on this theme. His baffling strategy is to play the ball straight to a close-in fielder and take off. His vocabulary appears to consist of “yes”, “no”, and “wait” and “let us discuss when we meet in the middle of the pitch”. The result has been enough heart-wrenching run-outs to leave permanent psychological scars on an already jolted fan base. A run-out is such a needless death. Why a highly accomplished batsman would keep throwing away his wicket like this beggars belief. It is clear, though, that it is a habit he cannot seem to shake. With Yousuf, this suicidal act has happened so often that you keep dreading the imminent whenever he is at the crease. The typical scenario is a full-length delivery pitching just outside off. Yousuf bends forward and taps the ball towards cover or cover point. His action ends up almost being a lunge, in which Yousuf’s weight shifts so far forward that the process of standing up forces him to take a stride. The act of playing the stroke and setting off for a run merge into a seamless continuum. Normally, a complex mix of variables goes into the decision of whether or not to run. Shot trajectory, field placement, fielder quality, consent of the non-striker, and indeed even the match situation enter into the calculation. In Yousuf’s case, it seems, the only real consideration is how far forward his centre of gravity has shifted. Now that I’m already afoot and out of the crease - he seems to be thinking - I might as well go for a run. Out of 222 completed ODI innings, Yousuf has been run out 38 times, which amounts to 17% of all his dismissals. Put another way, every 6th dismissal for Yousuf is a run-out. If you want a comparison, this figure is more than twice the rate for Sachin Tendulkar, for whom only every 12th ODI dismissal is a run-out. The best way to master any endeavour is to learn from the experience each time something goes wrong. Yousuf has had ample experience in making mistakes while running between the wickets, but the only mastery he has shown is in refusing to learn from them. ]]> tag:blogs.cricinfo.com,2009:/diffstrokes//139.13285 2009-10-20T17:54:06Z 2009-11-05T10:48:21Z

Ealham was not quite the ideal ODI allrounder, though he did a reasonable job in his 64 appearances

Mike Holmans

The ideal county limited-over allrounder © Getty Images

  In a January 2000 ODI at Kimberley, Mark Ealham took five wickets for eight runs in 24 balls. Five of Zimbabwe's top seven were struck on the pads, and each time umpire David Orchard responded by raising his finger. It was the first time anyone had got five lbws in an ODI innings. It is the perfect example of his bowling strength. The spell was during the dreaded middle overs of an ODI when nothing much usually happens, and his line was deadly accurate. The Cricinfo profile labels him medium-fast, but that “-fast” suffix risks contravening the Trade Descriptions Act: he might have tried to justify it in his early years, but he soon settled down as a straight medium-pacer. Ealham's control of line was impeccable, he could often wobble it in the air, and he could vary his pace enough to unsettle batsmen committed to trying to score. In the MCC v Champion County match which opened the 2006 season, Ealham smashed eleven fours and seven sixes on his way to a 45-ball hundred, which went on to win the Walter Lawrence Trophy for the season's fastest. Forty in thirty minutes rather than a hundred in three hundred was what his county sides usually wanted from him, which explains why he passed fifty 80 times in first-class cricket but only converted 13 into hundreds.]]> Martin Saggers also owed his Test selection to selectorial desperation, but given his trouble getting on to the ladder at all, just winning three Test caps was a triumph. His was a mildly romantic story. He had tried out in the second XI for a few counties in the early 1990s, but by 1996 had given up and was playing for Norfolk. Picked for the Minor Counties, his opening spell in their Benson & Hedges match against Durham was impressive enough for the county to offer him a contract. He was effectively competing against Steve Harmison for a place, a contest he was bound to lose, but when Durham inevitably released him, Kent snapped him up and he became one of the best swing bowlers on the circuit. He took 64 wickets in 2001 and 83 at 21.5 in 2002, occasioning a lot of serious suggestion that he should be picked for England. Perhaps that was Saggers' moment, but he was up against Gough, Caddick, Hoggard, Flintoff, Harmison and Jones (at least) and therefore too far down the pecking order. He finally got picked in a Test in Bangladesh when most of them were injured and Gough had retired, and then again the following summer in similar circumstances against New Zealand, bowling Mark Richardson with his first ball in a home Test but otherwise achieving little. Like many Test failures. he was compelled as the junior member of the attack to demonstrate his weaknesses as a change bowler with the old ball rather than his strengths as a dangerous customer with the new one. His England episode over, he remained a useful member of the Kent attack and 2009 was a well-deserved benefit year. Unfortunately a knee injury brought his season and career to a premature end and the circuit will miss his sunny personality. Alex Wharf was another who needed great persistence before eventual recognition. He started in 1994 as a pace bowler at his native Yorkshire, who also had Gough, Peter Hartley, Chris Silverwood and Hoggard, which considerably limited Wharf's opportunities. He moved on to Nottinghamshire, where he got more first-team cricket but he was not the strike bowler they were after. A big, burly man, his run-up exuded aggressive energy but the ball only travelled at 78mph rather than the 88mph the run-up advertised. Notts did however give him the chance to develop as a power-hitter, sending him in early in limited-over innings, but Paul Franks already had the job Wharf was suited for. He found his niche at Glamorgan, who had a vacancy for a lower-order hitter and aggressive bowler, especially for their one-day side. Wharf's rumbustiousness with bat and ball were key ingredients of the county's winning the 45-over league in 2002 and 2004. That 2004 campaign included a quite remarkable Wharf performance, albeit in a losing cause: in a weather-affected match, Kent's relatively simple Duckworth-Lewis target was 143 off 25 overs, which they managed to scramble with one wicket to spare off the last ball despite Wharf's amazing spell of 5-3-5-6. Such efforts earned him a run in the England one-day side that winter, the selectors being ever on the hopeful lookout for someone who could inject a bit of life into the flaccid international ODI team. Like Ealham before him, his bowling held up to international scrutiny but his batting failed to ignite and the selectors moved on to the next bright-looking toy in the shop. His career had already begun to wind down by 2009, his Glamorgan first-team place no longer assured, but now his knees have called time on him too. So that concludes the goodbyes for 2009. Thank you, Mark Butcher, Andy Caddick, John Crawley, Mark Ealham, Jason Gallian, Martin Saggers, Michael Vaughan and Alex Wharf for what you have done, and good luck for the future. ]]> tag:blogs.cricinfo.com,2009:/diffstrokes//139.13263 2009-10-19T14:11:56Z 2009-11-05T10:48:27Z

Fielders do not figure on cricket scoresheets except for when they take catches. The runouts and boundary saves they make, the catches they drop, the misfields the inflict on their team are all missed

Samir Chopra

It's not too fantastic to imagine a scoresheet, that along with the batsmen and bowlers' names, also records the fielders' names as well © AFP

  A few weeks ago, I wrote a little piece suggesting cricket take a leaf out of baseball's book and maintain statistics for fielders. The practical difficulty with this suggestion is that cricket scoresheets do not contain this kind of information: fielders do not figure on scoresheets except for when they take catches. The runouts and boundary saves they make, the catches they drop, the misfields the inflict on their team are all missed. But for a few years now, a scoresheet has been present which could potentially address this difficulty. I am referring to the Cricinfo ball-by-ball commentary, which currently records brilliant fielding, catches, drops, some misfields (if they are particularly egregious), and sometimes information on the fielder.]]> 9.4 Harmison to Ponting, 1 run, oh dear! Huge run-out chance missed there by Ian Bell! Ponting prods to cover and takes off for a single, but it's misjudged and Ponting had given up on making it as Bell's throw bounced over the stumps. Ponting was about three metres out there. Enormous chance missed. And:
26.5 Broad to Ponting, no run, prodded out to third man - no, brilliant stop from Anderson at gully! He's a lithe and brilliant fielder for a fast bowler. In this commentary/scoresheet, besides the usual recording of dot balls, runs, batsman and bowler, we have information on the fielders, on what they did or did not do. Thus the Cricinfo ball-by-ball is in fact, an annotated scorer's sheet, which could be used to generate the kind of fielders' statistics I had in mind in the piece linked above. Of course, the annotations in the Cricinfo commentary are voluntary; they are placed there by the commentators on duty at that time and the level of detail can vary. The commentary still does not record fielders' names when there is no error as in: 25.2 Harmison to Watson, no run, shorter delivery, slapped to point Here, we do not know who was at point, and thus we have no way of finding out, for instance, whether a particular fielder commits more errors at point and is better placed somewhere else. Adding this information would certainly add to the burdens of the (possibly already overworked) commentator/scorer. But it's not too fantastic to imagine a scoresheet (suitably tweaked to make the commentator's task easier), that along with the batsmen and bowlers' names, also records the fielders' names as well. How would fielders' statistics be extracted from such a scoresheet? That task would be made considerably easier if the commentary facilitated the use of keywords that would allow for automated processing of the commentary transcript (another requirement would be a form-like entry for fielders for each delivery). Hopefully, such a tweak to the commentary software would not be too involved. Fielder's statistics for too long have been ignored in cricket. Instead, we are left with a host of entirely subjective statements like "he is worth 30 runs in the field" or "his fielding has declined over the years" and so on. Quantification and recording of fielder's statistics would not only allow for comparison and record-keeping, it would also permit a ranking and recognition system for fielders that is long overdue. Annotated commentaries like the Cricinfo version point the way forward in this regard.]]> tag:blogs.cricinfo.com,2009:/diffstrokes//139.13250 2009-10-18T13:22:51Z 2009-11-05T10:48:31Z

These were substantial careers. They did not fulfil the optimistic dreams their early displays of talent encouraged, but they have certainly not wasted the last twenty seasons.

Mike Holmans

Jason Gallian was more of a bruiser; he was a slender version of Mike Gatting, sharing his appetite for runs though not for food © Getty Images

  Eight former England players announced their retirements during the 2009 season. I have already written about Andy Caddick, Mark Butcher and Michael Vaughan, who all had substantially successful Test careers, but the others have received little in the way of public appreciation for their efforts over many years. In the first Test of the 1989-90 Under-19 Ashes, Jason Gallian made an impressive 158 not out and 14, while John Crawley made 52 and 44 not out. They both made their first-class debuts for Lancashire a few months later but in the youth game Gallian, having been born and brought up in Sydney, was captaining the young Australians. He also qualified for England through his parents and was enticed back by Lancashire's offer of a contract. Crawley was the earlier to become successful in first-class cricket. He impressed in 1993 and it was no surprise when he was picked for England the next year. He was an exceptionally good player on the leg side and a more than competent player of spin, but he never quite clicked as a Test player. ]]> 106 at The Oval against Wasim and Waqar in 1996, and 156 not out in Muralitharan's famous demolition job at the same ground two years later. He also hit a hundred in Bulawayo when Zimbabwe still had Andy Flower and were a good match for England, but his weaknesses outside off stump were repeatedly exposed by Ambrose and Walsh for West Indies and by any number of Australians and South Africans. No longer in England's favour, he began to fester in county cricket, but was rejuvenated when Rod Bransgrove recruited him for the new, go-ahead Hampshire. Lancashire refused to release him, so he had to buy out his contract after an acrimonious legal tussle. In his first match for his new county in 2002, he scored 272, which led to an England recall against India. He was one of four centurions in his comeback Test, the others being Nasser Hussain, Michael Vaughan and Ajit Agarkar, but thereafter it was back to the middling scores of 30 and 40 and he played his last Test on the 2002-03 Ashes tour. Until very recently, he continued to rack up the runs for Hampshire, phenomenally so against Nottinghamshire, his scores in five matches from 2004 to 2006 being 301*, 39 & 6, 311*, 106 & 116, and 148 & 23. He finishes his career with over 24,000 first-class runs at a highly-respectable average of 46.5, as well as four Test centuries. He's more than earned his keep. The captain of Notts when Crawley notched up the first of those triple hundreds was once again Gallian, whose career had been more chequered. Where Crawley was stylish, Gallian was more of a bruiser; he was a slender version of Mike Gatting, sharing his appetite for runs though not for food. Picked for England largely on promise in 1995, he was not ready for the big time and swiftly returned to county cricket. His response to being dropped included a match against Derbyshire in which England captain Mike Atherton recorded a duck while Gallian went on to make 312, numerically at least the peak of his first-class career. Perhaps hoping to revive his England career, he moved to Notts for the 1998 season, and was promoted to the captaincy halfway through that campaign. Over the next six years, he did for Notts what Nasser Hussain was doing for England: turning a poor side into one which could win games, only for someone else to take over and win the glorious prizes. He had inherited a bowling attack largely incapable of taking wickets, so results were very poor in the early years, but as the youngsters gained experience and overseas players like Chris Cairns and Stuart MacGill were signed, things looked up, even more so when a South African lad with English parents by the name of Pietersen turned up to try and make his fortune much as Gallian had done a dozen years earlier. And as the team's fortunes improved, so did Gallian's personal contributions. He enjoyed his richest form in his early thirties: perhaps if he had not been pushed too far too early in his career, he would have reached his batting maturity somewhat earlier and ended with more impressive figures than 15,000 runs at 37.6. Despite these personal and team improvements, Gallian was sacked as captain. He and KP had not got on well at all, with the result that the Notts dressing room became fractious, and though Pietersen jumped ship to join Crawley and Shane Warne at Hampshire, the county decided that a new captain was required and appointed Stephen Fleming for 2005. Back in the ranks, Gallian had his best season ever, making 1200 runs at 53, in the course of which he was twice run out for 199 – and Notts won the Championship. But it was his last success. Over the next three seasons he averaged just under 31, and then moved to Essex for 2009, where a meagre 245 runs in seven matches told him it was time to quit. These were substantial careers. They did not fulfil the optimistic dreams their early displays of talent encouraged, but they have certainly not wasted the last twenty seasons. Enough for now. I will wave goodbye to the other retirees in my next post.]]> tag:blogs.cricinfo.com,2009:/diffstrokes//139.13152 2009-10-11T10:55:51Z 2009-11-05T10:48:35Z

Michael Jeh

Sri Lanka, and not Australia, were the one-day world champions in 1996 © Getty Images

  What the Champions Trophy has just showed us is that cricket needs these occasional global tournaments to provide a wider perspective on a game that is still only genuinely competitive amongst a handful of nations. Unlike football or tennis or athletics, which are truly multi-country sports and unlike baseball, basketball or gridiron which seem to be able to survive on American domestic consumption, cricket needs all of it’s senior members to be competitive if it is to compete with these other sports. It was almost not thus; I was not aware that in the late 1990s, world cricket was apparently on the brink of a major split that would probably have destroyed the game. I always knew there was some talk of it but it never really seemed to be much more than a bit of posturing and chest-puffing. I recently stumbled upon a book called Run Out, written by the former CEO of the Australian Cricket Board, Graham Halbish. It’s hardly a new offering and it’s certainly not worth recommending but nonetheless, it still provided a fascinating insight into the politics of cricket in the 1990s. He described an ambitious idea called Project Snow which was apparently Australian cricket’s defiant response to the power bloc of India, Pakistan, Sri Lanka, Bangladesh and South Africa. Without going into the detailed politics of it, Australia, New Zealand, England and West Indies would form a league which played each other on a regular basis (presumably the other countries would do something similar with their members) and world cricket would be split in two. Amazingly, he went so far as to make the statement that the intent of Project Snow was to show South Africa that it had made the wrong choice in siding with the Asian bloc, to call India’s bluff and to show the subcontinent that “we could do without them, but that they could not do without us”. ]]> The Best of Times”, he tells of a story when a former ACB Chairman ejected two ECB officials off his houseboat (during the Youth World Cup in 1988) with some choice expletives and refuses to give them a drink or food. The best of times? Really? How charming! Halbish recounts every detail of a very famous falling-out with the board which led to his sacking and the subsequent bad blood that inevitably followed. It was actually quite fascinating to read the behind-the-scenes politics that seem to dog most cricket boards around the world. I am neither interested in the politics nor knowledgeable enough about what really went on to offer any meaningful commentary on Halbish’s version of events. The only thing that really stood out was the total unpleasantness of most of the characters involved in that whole saga, something that is probably replicated in other cricket boards around the world I’m sure. For supposedly distinguished and senior administrators, the only common denominator seemed to be a total absence of decency or honour amongst the lot. Halbish obviously tells the story from his perspective, but even allowing for that bias, it just made me wonder how the game of cricket survives such people. It is indeed a testament to the quality of the 'product' that it can transcend those who administer it. Cricket will never escape the grubby politics that seems to follow it in just about every country (although NZ seems to be relatively benign) but the game itself is such a powerful force that it will probably still survive and thrive, despite such folk. Halbish’s book merely highlights the ugly underbelly that governs this great game that we all love. It was an interesting read, a revealing read, an inconsistent read but sadly, it did nothing to paint cricket’s governors of the 1980s and 1990s in a positive light. I don’t think much has changed since! ]]> tag:blogs.cricinfo.com,2009:/diffstrokes//139.13045 2009-10-04T13:18:41Z 2009-11-05T10:48:39Z

Perhaps it’s worth giving serious thought to the 4 x 25 over format that Sachin Tendulkar (and others) are expounding, to renew and regenerate the 50-over game. In fact, I’d go one step further by suggesting 2 x 20 overs to begin with, followed by 2 x 30 overs

Michael Jeh

The toss has proved too crucial in some one-dayers © Getty Images

  The Champions Trophy, played on early season pitches on the South African Highveld, has thrown up enough variety worthy of a global competition. It’s had enough intrigue and diversity to suit just about every style of cricketer. No team can claim they were significantly disadvantaged by the conditions, although the toss was crucial in some of the earlier matches. That’s cricket though – how can you ever compensate for the vagaries of the toss? In long series between two countries (or even tri-series), it is probably fair enough to leave things as they are. Going by the law of averages, the coin toss tends to even out in the long run and the better team usually wins the series. Most sensible people will agree that the longer the competition, the better the chances are that the most deserving team will triumph. Shorter tournaments like World Cups and Champions Trophies necessarily allow for much less margin in terms of this balancing-out effect. Especially in cut-throat situations where one loss can finish your tournament, the toss is often crucial. Too crucial. In some of the early games at Centurion and Johannesburg, where extravagant spin and seam were in equal abundance, the toss effectively determined the outcome. Perhaps it’s worth giving serious thought to the 4 x 25 over format that Sachin Tendulkar (and others) are expounding, to renew and regenerate the 50-over game. In fact, I’d go one step further by suggesting 2 x 20 overs to begin with, followed by 2 x 30 overs. This allows the team winning the toss to still reap some advantage by minimising the time they have to bat in the first stanza (if the ball is nipping around a bit) or maximising the time they have to bowl in the second session (if the pitch is starting to turn or keeping a bit low). ]]> last week), there can still be a Duckworth-Lewis result so long as there was sufficient time for a minimum of 40 overs. The possibility of a weather interruption will add a layer of intrigue to the tactics in that first session too – should teams use their Powerplays and best bowlers early doors or keep it in reserve and risk never using them? Fascinating stuff…. The main reason for suggesting this split format is to negate some of the effects of winning the toss, especially when conditions are hostile early on (like some of the early starts in Johannesburg) and or when they deteriorate late in the game (usually when the ball starts to turn or the pitch gets slow). Of course there will still be some advantage in winning the toss but it won’t be a four-hour advantage. In some conditions, that’s almost fatal to the team losing the toss. The tactics will be extremely interesting to watch. Human nature being what it is, any batsman who is at the crease towards the end of the first lot of 20 overs will naturally be a bit more conservative so he can resume his innings when the next installment begins. Is this a good time for the fielding team to take their Powerplay then, from overs 16-20? Is it a good time to get a few cheap overs out of the 5th and 6th bowlers? For the batting team, in purely pragmatic terms, the 20th over should be treated like any other – each run is still worth the same amount. But, it would take a brave batsman prepared to take risks in that 20th over and miss out on the chance to start afresh a few hours later? It would bring the fitness of allrounders into the game much more too. Someone like Jacques Kallis is likely to be not out at the end of the first innings, then bowl some overs and chase balls in the outfield, only to resume his innings once again. His rhythm would have been disrupted (batting or bowling) so it would take good skills to pick up where he left off, showing off a new dimension to his all-round game. Another advantage would be that it possibly allows the team that is struggling to break the rhythm of the game and thereby try to claw their way back. Any rule change that allows a chance for a 'comeback' must surely be a good thing. A bowling team that is bleeding runs in the 20th over has time to break the momentum, re-think their field placings or strategies and start again. It might be just what the 50-over game needs to renew interest in those middle overs when it all becomes all too predictable. A final twist to add spice to this new format - instead of the compulsory 10-over Powerplay at the start of the game, why not have two compulsory five-over stints at the start of each innings? The batting and fielding Powerplays can still be taken at the discretion of the captain but if there’s a compulsory Powerplay from overs one to five and then again from 21-25, it will broaden the skill base of all players. Someone like a Mohammad Yousuf or Rahul Dravid, supremely skilled at working the ball into gaps during the middle overs will be forced to bring another dimension to their game if they resume on say 30 not out in the 21st over and have to start again in a Powerplay. We’ll soon see the end of one-dimensional players or we’ll see some unusual changes in the batting order just prior to the first innings break. Either way, the unpredictability and innovation is just what ODI cricket needs. What do you think? Do we have the basis of an idea worth exploring? My mind is already racing with the various sub-plots that will inevitably play out if this format is adopted, even if it’s only in knockout type tournaments where it would be a shame to see the toss dictate the winner of the game. Cricket needs to balance the ledger in favour of the better team rather than the lucky one! ]]> tag:blogs.cricinfo.com,2009:/diffstrokes//139.12966 2009-09-29T22:17:27Z 2009-11-05T10:48:43Z

It is we, the fans and supporters, who confer prestige on tournaments and series. And as yet, at least, we haven't decided that the CT is a prestige tournament.

Mike Holmans

As yet, at least, fans haven't decided that the Champions Trophy is a prestige tournament. © AFP

  A lot of people took me to task after my last post, in which I suggested that it was a bit odd that most cricket fans don't rate the Champions Trophy very highly, many accusing me of English sour grapes. I was clearly underestimating Asian interest in the tournament, but Chris from Australia commented that there was zero interest in Australia, and when I checked the Sydney Morning Herald and Melbourne Age websites immediately afterwards, they still had the Ashes logo on their cricket pages - which still devoted far more attention to deconstructing Australia's Ashes loss than to prospects for the CT. And Australia are the holders. Some people suggested that ICC needs to give the CT more prestige. I get the idea, but I'm not sure that prestige can be magically bestowed by the powers that be. ICC tried that with their idea of a Super Series of ODIs and a “Test” between the top-ranked country and the Rest of the World, at which the world's cricket public blew a resounding raspberry. Throwing oodles of cash into the prize pot doesn't do it either, as Allen Stanford found before he was arrested. The point is that prestige is not in the gift of the authorities: it is we, the fans and supporters, who confer prestige on tournaments and series. And as yet, at least, we haven't decided that the CT is a prestige tournament.]]> I think the problem is that we don't know what it's for. We have a 50-over World Cup already, and we're very happy to think that World Cup is a huge deal. A World Cup happens every four years – as it does in many other sports, especially those involving inflated leather balls. Four years is a good interval because it basically ensures that there will be a different cast of characters even if the team names remain the same. Last time's Grand Old Men have retired, the then-established stars have moved into GOM-hood, some of the up-and-comers are now the leading players and there are some new faces just making their way. Each World Cup is a whole new adventure. Contrast this with the CT going on three months after the World Twenty20; Tendulkar, Dravid and Strauss are playing in this after not being included in the Twenty20, but otherwise the differences between the teams which were in England and these ones have mostly come about through injuries (or, in the case of West Indies, total meltdown). Yes, it's a longer format and the results haven't always gone the same way, but it's felt awfully like the slo-mo replay taken to a whole-tournament level. It's not that it hasn't been entertaining, or that we haven't learned anything. No-one had previously had any inkling that England had any idea how to play 50-over cricket, so their performance against South Africa was a discovery on a par with finding a new planet orbiting the sun. Nor, at a less mind-boggling level, had most of us realised that the final authority on run-out decisions is the fielding captain. But was it really necessary to mount a whole tournament for the same old eight teams to make these additions to the sum of human knowledge? In football, when England fail to win the World Cup, they can go off and fail to win the European Nations Cup, a tournament obviously smaller than and different to the World Cup but still big enough to garner its own level of prestige. India can finish out of the medals at the Olympic hockey and then make a mess of the Commonwealth Games, a lesser but still obviously significant event. But cricket's problem is that there aren't enough top teams to have a multiplicity of top-team tournaments without inducing terminal deja vu. Perhaps what we need rather than the Champions Trophy are two quasi-regional tournaments. One would be for Asia-Pacific, involving India, Pakistan, Sri Lanka, Bangladesh, Australia, New Zealand plus Afghanistan and UAE, while the Atlantic Cup could be for West Indies, England, South Africa, Zimbabwe, Ireland, Netherlands, Namibia and Kenya (or such other European, American and African countries as qualified). Obviously the Asia-Pacific one would be far more prestigious and have a much larger audience, but the Atlantic Cup would give more of the emerging nations serious competition, which might make future World Cups even more interesting. Most of all, though, it would be fascinating to see how South Africa could contrive to get knocked out at an early stage. Now, I really must get back to eating those sour grapes. tag:blogs.cricinfo.com,2009:/diffstrokes//139.12866 2009-09-23T19:25:02Z 2009-11-05T10:48:47Z

The stories that surrounded the Botham-Richards friendship were numerous and of varying quality and veracity

Samir Chopra

Ian Botham and Viv Richards - one of the greatest cricketing friendships © PA Photos

  I read the late and great David Halberstam's little gem, The Teammates, this past weekend and like many of its other readers, was struck by the simple story of the multi-decade friendship of four sportsmen (in this case, Boston Red Sox luminaries Ted Williams, Bobby Doerr, Dominic Di Maggio and John Pesky). Halberstam's tale concerns friendships amongst members of the same team, and of those, I've heard, a few when it comes to cricket. But one cricketing friendship featured two giants of the game who played for opposing teams in international cricket (albeit the same team in a domestic cricket competition): Ian Botham and Viv Richards. The reasons the Botham-Richards friendship struck me as so distinctive (in clearly idealized ways) were numerous: they were both cricketers I admired for the way they played their cricket; there was something undeniably romantic in the notion that men used to fierce competition against each other in one context, could then put shoulder-to-shoulder in another; a camaraderie amongst sportsmen in a sport centered largely on international bilateral contests was uncommon; the political overtones of a proud black cricketer finding comradeship with a Somerset lad; and so on. While tales of friendship amongst team-mates were common in cricket (in the Indian context, the friendship between Sunil Gavaskar and Gundappa Viswanath was well-known), this kind of trans-border mateship was rare (though admittedly, in English county cricket, these had become increasingly common), and thus, there were more contrasts to be seized on, many more differences to point to as having been bridged, and many more commonalities to note amongst the two.]]> The stories that surrounded the Botham-Richards friendship were numerous and of varying quality and veracity: that Richards was responsible for ensuring that Botham never signed for the rebel South African tours because Botham could not have faced Richards' disapproval thereafter; that Botham was resolutely on Richards' side in any dispute including the famous ones with Peter Roebuck; that Richards haughtily waved off a congratulations and a handshake from Botham in a Test, because "this isn't a county game"; and of course, my favorite, that Richards introduced Botham to the pleasures of an occasional toke of cannabis (is that why Sir Ian gained so much weight in the 1980s?) But I suspect the real reason the Botham-Richards friendship appealed so much to me (especially when I was a teenager) was because the idea of a cricketing friendship spanning the divisions of national sides was a romantic one that brought relief from the tensions engendered by Test cricket. One theme common to many positive reactions to the IPL's first two editions was the sight of erstwhile opponents celebrating together when brought together for an IPL outfit. I suspect that while we celebrate nationalist rivalry on the ground, some of us like to be reminded that it is a bit of play-acting, that the same men who snarl at each other on the ground, and gladly knock each others' heads off, would in other contexts, put that nastiness aside. That is, despite the quasi-xenophobic bluster, most notably displayed in the comments sections of cricket blogs, we're softies at heart, and such friendships reassure us that all is well, that these men acting like brash warriors are really just folks like us in many ways. Maintaining and sustaining an edgy sporting rivalry can be exhausting, for players and fans alike. The friendships that international cricketers strike up in the course of their careers aren't just valuable for them; they bring us much pleasure too by humanizing the players, and bringing them down to earth. And as the story of Richards waving off Botham in a Test reminds us, we know that when they step back onto an international arena, they'll go right back to being flag-waving ogres. tag:blogs.cricinfo.com,2009:/diffstrokes//139.12825 2009-09-21T17:50:02Z 2009-11-05T10:48:51Z

The Champions Trophy is the World Cup without the boring bits. If there were any justice, we'd take a lot more interest and give a lot more weight to the Champions Trophy, but there isn't and we don't.

Mike Holmans

Over the next couple of weeks, I expect I shall watch at least some of the Champions Trophy coverage on TV. After all, I'm a cricket junkie and the English season finishes this week, so I've nothing else to watch until April. And, since you are enough of a cricket junkie to be reading a blog on a cricket website, it's pretty likely that you will also be tuning in at some point. TV companies know that there are many people round the world like us who will watch any international cricket, almost whatever it is, and are therefore willing to part with money for the broadcast rights, and the ICC then spends that money on what it considers to be worthy causes. Slaking our appetite for the game provides money to help develop the game around the world (though why they pour money into salvaging Zimbabwe when West Indies are in danger of collapse passes my understanding), so it seems beneficial all round. But nobody seems to care very much about who wins it. ]]> This may simply be the perspective of an England fan who knows that his team don't stand an earthly chance and will be doing exceptionally well if they win any of their three games, but I don't detect any groundswell of anticipation amongst the fans of other teams I see on my travels round the net. A 50-over World Cup always stimulates a pre-tournament buzz, but the Champions Trophy generates a tidal wave of indifference. Like a lot of people, I can tell you which country won any World Cup and where (though not necessarily which ground the final was at). But apart from West Indies winning in England in 2004 which I remember because I was giving daily bulletins to my father as he lay dying in hospital, I have no idea which team won any of the other editions of the Champions Trophy, or even when they were. Which is odd, if you think about it. It is a much more efficient way of determining the top team at 50-over tournament cricket than the World Cup with its Scotlands and Bermudas. Adding all the no-hope teams to the World Cup simply expands it without changing the destination of the winners' trophy but allows for the possibility of embarrassment in the early rounds. Just as it is (or would be) amusing if Manchester United exit the FA Cup by losing to a semi-pro team or Roger Federer gets beaten in the first round at Wimbledon by a British wild-card entrant currently ranked 793rd in the world, we can all have a good laugh when one of the major teams gets knocked out in the group stage of a cricket World Cup. If nothing else, it relieves the tedium of the early stages which seem to consist mostly of mismatches. But the Champs Trophy is what the final stages of a World Cup would look like if none of the major teams tripped over the banana-skin in their qualifying group. It's the business end, the nitty gritty, the chase which is cut to when we start paying close attention to a World Cup instead of just checking that nothing out of the ordinary happened. It's the World Cup without the boring bits. If there were any justice, we'd take a lot more interest and give a lot more weight to the Champions Trophy, but there isn't and we don't. Instead, we treat it more as an inconvenience, a distraction from whatever the real business of our teams is supposed to be at any given time, and we want it over and out of the way as soon as is practical. What a strange lot we cricket fans are. tag:blogs.cricinfo.com,2009:/diffstrokes//139.12808 2009-09-21T03:43:08Z 2009-11-05T10:48:56Z

Instead of viewing it as another tactic in the batting arsenal, it’s almost viewed as Devil and Saviour in the one incarnation, thereby giving it that real Jekyll & Hyde quality that confuses clear thinking

Michael Jeh

When it comes to the vexed issue of the batting Powerplay, I’m convinced that the strategists will soon have enough historical data to crunch some meaningful numbers. As more ODI games are played under the new rules, there will be more data available and clear patterns will start to emerge. Thus far, the batting Powerplay has been anything but! It has often been the Achilles heel for the batting team - poorly executed, poorly timed and the catalyst for a collapse. One of the problems with it has been this dual sense of fear (what if we lose wickets?) combined with the burden of self-expectation (the Powerplay is a powerful weapon that we MUST save for that match-winning moment). Instead of viewing it as another tactic in the batting arsenal, it’s almost viewed as Devil and Saviour in the one incarnation, thereby giving it that real Jekyll & Hyde quality that confuses clear thinking. ]]> The final ODI at Durham between Australia and England was the last straw in a series that defined itself for a complete waste of this weapon. The sight of Australia taking the Powerplay with Ben Hilfenhaus at the crease, nine wickets down and in the 44th over, was the final nail in the coffin of abysmal tactics by both teams throughout the series. England were particularly dim-witted in their use of the Powerplay throughout the series, arguably amongst the worst examples of getting it wrong that you can possibly imagine. The Champions Trophy in South Africa will show a different side to this tactic though. I’m convinced that it will indeed be an advantage for the batting team in this tournament. Why do I say that? To begin with, I think teams will now crunch the data and start to realise that it’s probably wasted if you leave it too late in the innings. The last 10 overs tends to bring with it a flood of runs anyway so why waste the Powerplay then? Connected with this theory, if you can force the fielding side to use their ‘death bowlers’ in the middle of the innings to protect the Powerplay, that leaves even more scope to cash in at the end. On South African pitches with bounce and carry, to say nothing of the effects of altitude, scoring rates will tend to be higher than during September in England or on the slow, dusty pitches in the Middle East for example (when Australia played Pakistan). These conditions will lend themselves to batsmen being able to clear the boundaries because the extra bounce opens up more of the field. On slow pitches, it is difficult to get under the ball and open up the full 360 degree radius of the outfield. We’ll see a lot more shots square of the wicket in the Champions Trophy when it comes times to push the accelerator. Players like Dilshan, Duminy, De Villiers and Dhoni (and many more that I simply can’t mention) who don’t need to rely on going straight down the ground will revel in these conditions during Powerplay overs. The pitches at Centurion and Johannesburg will be more suited to the quicker bowlers, thereby removing the choking threat of spin bowling in the middle of the innings. Small boundaries, hard pitches and balls flying further at altitude will reduce the stranglehold that spinners had on the game in the World Twenty20 for example. Fast bowlers who get their yorkers wrong will pay the price in these conditions, especially against batsmen adept at staying deep in the crease or flicking to fine leg. Extra pace and bounce will help established batsmen to plunder the late overs. Most importantly, I think teams will do the math and realise that a Powerplay taken too late is a Powerplay wasted. I think we’ll see a lot more teams taking the option in the 30-40 over period, perhaps even in the 15-20 over range (if they get off to a great start) and then cashing in at the end against the lesser bowlers, even with the field spread. If the ball’s not turning or holding up and you’ve used your ‘finishers’ like Gul, Malinga, Lee, Parnell and the like earlier in the innings to stem the Powerplay bloodbath, you’ll be left with medium pacers or spinners at the end. I’m predicting some late carnage! I’m looking forward to seeing the evolution of the Powerplay and to see if anyone’s really learnt anything from the recent past. If they haven’t, what’s the point of all those complicated software systems and statsgurus? It doesn’t take a genius to figure out the bleeding obvious – don’t leave the Powerplay so bloody late!!!! tag:blogs.cricinfo.com,2009:/diffstrokes//139.12787 2009-09-20T04:53:11Z 2009-11-05T10:49:00Z

My weekend got off to a rough start, but the news I read this morning, that India and Pakistan might play Test matches at a neutral venue (sometime after 2012) has put a huge smile on my face. Hopefully,...

Samir Chopra

My weekend got off to a rough start, but the news I read this morning, that India and Pakistan might play Test matches at a neutral venue (sometime after 2012) has put a huge smile on my face. Hopefully, the sensible thing will be done by staging these in England. India and Pakistan need to stage their Test cricket somewhere else; in stadiums that might actually fill up with loud, enthusiastic fans, of which there will be plenty in England for both teams. Pakistan can regard North England as "home" and India can do the same with the South. Many expats will fly in to watch the games (I would seriously consider flying over for one Test at least), and hopefully, English pitches will co-operate with the weather to produce some result-oriented cricket. The India-Pakistan cricket relationship needs a shot in the arm, and this might do it. The fact of the matter is that even without the politics that has been getting in the way, India-Pakistan Test cricket in recent years has been a bit of a crashing bore (and not just because both boards have staged too much cricket between the two). The series in 2004 was played in empty stadiums, an especial irony given all the pre-tour hoopla about how desperate the Pakistan cricket fan was to see the Indian team in action. The two series played in India since then have been impressive showcases for India's inability to close the deal in Tests. In both series, India held the upper edge, and managed to royally stuff things up. In the 2004-05 series, they won one Test when Pakistan obligingly rolled over, but failed to drive home the advantage in another, and then completely lost the plot by putting together a nice last-day collapse in the third Test. ]]> In the last series played in India, Pakistan sent over a team which looked so lackluster on the field that I almost felt like asking them to walk back to the pavilion for an intravenous coffee drip. India failed to put this bunch out of their misery as well, managing only a 1-0 win when by all rights they should have wiped the floor with a 3-0 margin. The last Test featured that perennial favorite of Indian Test captains: the meandering, cautious move toward a declaration, which is then delayed so much that a draw is the only outcome possible. But the crowning glory of India-Pakistan Test cricket in recent times was the series in Pakistan in 2006, which showcased dead pitches and horrendous run-fest snoozes in the first two Tests, before India redeemed matters with a spectacular display of incompetence in the third game (it takes special talent to lose after your quick bowler has taken a hat-trick in the opening over of a Test). I can only hope with fingers crossed, that the games will be staged in England and that plans will be finalised soon. The current enforced gap is a good thing; it has made cricket between India and Pakistan a little less common, a little more desirable. A good India-Pakistan Test can be the best of the best. But it needs some large crowds and a co-operative pitch or two. I think these will be found in England; I'm sure about the first and optimistic about the second. India and Pakistan will both have attacks capable of exploiting the conditions, the locals will be looking to pick up some bragging rights, and many English fans will turn up to watch as well. It has all the makings of a good summer of cricket. Bring it on. ]]> tag:blogs.cricinfo.com,2009:/diffstrokes//139.12689 2009-09-14T05:38:50Z 2009-11-05T10:49:04Z

Cricketers have mentors. I think cricket fans have mentors too. Those that inspire our fandom, pointing us to corners of the game we might not have thought of exploring

Samir Chopra

Cricketers have mentors. Those that inspire them to reach heights they might not have dreamed of. I think cricket fans have mentors too. Those that inspire our fandom, pointing us to corners of the game we might not have thought of exploring, whose influence makes us the fans we are today. My mentor in cricketing-fandom was (and is) my uncle (my mother's younger brother). He taught me how to read cricket scorecards, to calculate batting and bowling averages, to find cricket commentary from England and Australia (and to tune shortwave radios), and introduced me to many of the game's greats. Indeed, he made me aware of so many different facets of the game, that it would take a column considerably longer than this one to do justice to him. Before I came to the US, it was no exaggeration to say that if I had experienced a pleasurable moment in watching cricket, the odds were high it was in his company. ]]> Pakistan make a brave attempt to chase down 294 against West Indies in the 1979 World Cup semi-final, and Kapil Dev lashing 89 off 55 balls against England at Lord’s in 1982 in a brave attempt to ward off defeat, and of course, watching the 1983 World Cup semi-finals and final on a crystal-clear BBC broadcast. There were crushing disappointments too: we still haven't got over India's failure to wrap up the 1985 Boxing Day Test. Denied by Border and the rain sure; but really, by India's inability to close the deal. The memory of that cold Delhi morning, huddled next to a radio, waiting and waiting for the last Australian wicket to fall, and for the Indian openers to get a move on, still rankles, and colours my perceptions of the modern Indian side. My uncle had a rogue's sense of humour: he taped the end of the radio commentary of the fifth Test in the India-Australia series in 1977-78, played it back for me, and almost convinced me the umpire had called back Chandrasekhar for a second chance at batting. Only his giggling gave the game away. He perfected the art of playing hooky to watch cricket with me. He would have his elder brother drop him off at my place on their way to work so he could watch the ODIs beamed live from Australia during the 1985-86 season (and then, he would be picked up in the evening; my grandparents never found out). As the game progressed, his old statistics-obsessed self would come to the fore: he would faithfully track the run-rate at the end of every over, and call out projections and predictions. When India won the Benson & Hedges World Championship in 1985, we both agreed it was a better win than 1983, simply because India had been so convincing, and best of all, we had beaten Pakistan in the final. There was no else I would have wanted to share the moment with. Of all the cricketing losses I've suffered by moving to the US, not having him by my side to watch a game has been the worst. Four years ago, he turned 50. I called him to wish him a happy birthday and knew there was only one way I could do it. I asked him to take fresh guard and go for his ton. I hope Mamaji does it. Heck, I'll run on to the ground and garland him if he does. ]]> tag:blogs.cricinfo.com,2009:/diffstrokes//139.12662 2009-09-12T21:07:35Z 2009-11-05T10:49:08Z

My companions and I agreed that enjoyment would have been entirely inappropriate, anyway. We were here as punishment. This was the penance we had to do for winning the Ashes.

Mike Holmans

There is always a wistful tinge to the last game of the Lord's season, as Saturday's ODI was; as I leave the ground, there is the gloomy realisation that it will be next year before I next hear the five-minute bell and then see the umpires walk out to start the day's play, but still, I'm at one of my favourite places in the world. I always enjoy going to Lord's on a warm summer's day, even more so if there is cricket being played. Though I've been coming regularly for only thirty years and am thus a relative newcomer, I feel at home at the home of cricket. Even if the cricket is dreadful, I am sure to see some friends and have some pleasant conversation. Thousands of the cricket-besotted turned up for similar reasons and will have taken equal satisfaction from another day at HQ, happy just to have been there. However, when the BBC radio commentators inform their listeners that the crowd “are enjoying it” or “purring contentedly”, they seem to be saying more than that people like being at Lord's: there is a definite implication that they are taking some pleasure in the actual cricket. ]]> Hearing those remarks, I wondered where they were dreaming it up from, because there was no evidence of people enjoying the cricket anywhere near where I was sitting in the Warner Stand. Nor was there any in the Pavilion or any other part of the ground I went to. The cricket was simply awful, apart from the spectacle of Brett Lee knocking stumps over at the end of England's feeble batting effort. When Australia batted, they merely went efficiently about their business. I don't mean to suggest they were under any obligation to try and entertain the crowd with spectacular fireworks, but it would have been more fun if they had. Some were angry, a few outraged, but most were just disappointed - to a greater or lesser degree, depending on what their expectations had been. Mine had been pretty low and England only sank narrowly below them, so it was no worse than seeing the bus leave the stop just as I left the ground and having to wait a few minutes for the next, but I think all of us would take exception to the allegation that we had enjoyed it. My companions and I agreed that enjoyment would have been entirely inappropriate, anyway. We were here as punishment. This was the penance we had to do for winning the Ashes, for the joy we had felt when we had beaten Australia at Lord's for the first time in 75 years, for the fun we had had at the World Twenty20 (especially as England had won a World Cup), for thinking that Ravi Bopara's hundred against West Indies had signalled the arrival of a major new talent – in other words, for being English cricket fans at Lord's. I hope the cricketing gods accepted our collective sacrifice. Another friend I bumped into said he had come to practice supporting Australia before doing it for real when they come back to Pakistan's new home ground, which rather surprised me: I cannot conceive of supporting Australia, and particularly not against Pakistan, who rank third in my affections behind England and West Indies. Well, so be it: he and I will be on opposite sides during the second of next season's Tests. Ah, yes. Next season. We'll be back at Lord's again next season. That sounds good. tag:blogs.cricinfo.com,2009:/diffstrokes//139.12653 2009-09-11T20:29:49Z 2009-11-05T10:49:12Z

What it then amounts to is class prejudice: the selectors favour those who bat like aristocrats rather than artisans – and snobbery is a recipe for decadent failure.

Mike Holmans

Michael Jeh's piece about the number of talented-looking players who appear for England but fail to produce the goods when things get difficult is timely, since those he mentions have all just been granted contracts by the ECB for the coming year. Not that Ian Bell and Ravi Bopara are actually failures. They have each scored a healthy number of Test hundreds. Yes, they have been against West Indies, New Zealand, a Pakistan side depleted by injury and player bans or a South Africa who were bowling very poorly on a flat track, but they were in Test matches all the same. They have only failed against the very best, but there are plenty of those from everywhere. (Owais Shah is in a different category: I have long thought of him as Owaste of Space at the international level.) I don't think it's because the standard of domestic cricket is too low. Most of the Division One counties could give New Zealand a pretty good game, and Durham have a better bowling attack - or at least had, depending on how much difference the return of Shane Bond makes. Demanding that the county championship be of a higher standard than the Test cricket played by the bottom half of the rankings table (where England reside anyway) is surely over-optimistic.]]> Nor are Australia immune. Phil Hughes succeeded majestically in Sheffield Shield, county cricket and in Tests against South Africa, who now admit that they bowled badly at him. Then, when he came up against Steve Harmison (for the Lions) and Andrew Flintoff armed with both a plan of bowling fast leg stump throat balls and the ability to execute the plan consistently, he was found wanting. No amount of domestic cricket can entirely prepare you for the very top. But Fox (Michael Jeh) was talking more about one-day cricket, and there the problem is more likely to be systemic. England have been rubbish at ODIs since the early 1990s no matter who has been picked but their main fault has been that they have so few batsmen able to play the aggressive game. The successful Test batsmen tend not to score fast enough in ODIs so instead they pick domestic strokeplayers who don't know how to graft, at least when under run-rate pressure which requires scoring as well as blocking. In suggesting that it is a peculiarly English problem, however, Fox has not been paying sufficient attention to the Indian team. How often have Rohit Sharma or Suresh Raina gritted out a match-winning 70 in testing conditions? The old adage says that form is temporary and class is permanent. It may well be that that is true, but only if you correctly define “class”. Both England and India have selectors who define class as elegant technique and great timing, and believe that players possessing them are more likely to succeed than batsmen who look to be struggling. I can understand that: when I watch a county game, the batsman who plays beautifully is far more likely to catch my eye. I learn to appreciate batsmen who play solidly for the counties I follow much earlier than those I see only occasionally for an opposition. An Australian selector going to watch a domestic game has fewer matches to choose from than his English or Indian counterpart. He will inevitably see players more often and notice much earlier that the same ugly bloke keeps getting 75 while the fancy dans get out for 3 against the better bowlers at least as often as they glide to 123 in less challenging circumstances. Such a selector may well acquire a different definition of class. Where having large numbers of teams may hurt both England and India could lie less in lowering the standard of play than in preventing any given selector seeing enough of the unattractive players to tell the Allan Borders from the genuinely incompetent. What it then amounts to is class prejudice: the selectors favour those who bat like aristocrats rather than artisans – and snobbery is a recipe for decadent failure.