Inbox tag:blogs.cricinfo.com,2009:/inbox//140 2009-11-06T11:48:54Z Movable Type 3.34 A cricketing renaissance tag:blogs.cricinfo.com,2009:/inbox//140.13528 2009-11-06T11:15:35Z 2009-11-06T11:48:54Z Cricinfo From Ram Srinivasan, United States

Tillakaratne Dilshan shows off his innovative scoop shot © AFP
 
A lot of ink and bits have been spent discussing the evil that is Twenty20 and the IPL. However these primarily identify the effects of Twenty20 cricket, good or bad, on the players and the business of cricket. The focus here is different; understand the effect of Twenty20s on the game of cricket. Not the business of cricket. Batting The batting equation has changed considerably. Eleven wickets and twenty overs, instead of fifty overs. This has encouraged, or even forced, batsmen to dance on the thin line that separates recklessness and aggression. The most famous addition to the cricketing manual in recent years has been the Dilscoop. While it was pioneered by Tillakaratne Dilshan, it is fast catching on. I have had to sit through Lendl Simmons try, and miserably fail, to play the shot at least five times during the Champions League Twenty20. The reverse-sweep, which has been the pariah of cricketing shots, is now legit and has been endowed citizenship status. Even as late as 2007, a batsman getting out on the reverse-sweep was morally culpable for any subsequent defeat. Twenty20 cricket has simply increased the percentage in the shot. First, with a number of captains (foolishly, if I might add) deciding to do away with the third man in Twenty20, the reward has increased. This has motivated players to practice the shot in the nets, reducing the risk in the shot. ]]> Bowling In gully cricket, we have a brand of bowlers called the Nerus. Nerus bowl with an offspinner’s, or left-arm orthodox bowler’s, action but the ball does not spin. They simply fire it into your legs. The word has its roots in the Tamil word near, which means straight. Nerus are now becoming a regular feature and case in point being Sulieman Benn, Chris Gayle and David Hussey. Real spinners like Harbhajan Singh are resorting to Nerus, the 2007 World Twenty20 semi-finals against Australia being an instance. In terms of fast bowling, I have noticed two new weapons. The first is the 'oxymoronic' slow bouncer that has been used to good effect by Brett Lee, and with lesser success by Dale Steyn. The second is the slow yorker pioneered by Lasith Malinga that got him the first two in his four in four trick. Tactical Twenty20 has been criticised for providing an unequal battleground between the bat and the ball. While 'unequal' is fairly subjective, and even if we do manage to agree on a universal definition I fail to see why this is of any concern. It is the same for both the teams. The biggest effect of Twenty20 cricket, as I see it, is the return of spinners to prominence. During the Champions League, Nathan Hauritz did a Dipak Patel and opened the bowling for New South Wales. Even Dilshan opened the bowling for Delhi Daredevils, and less than a week before that Trinidad & Tobago played with three complete spinners, Sherwin Ganga, Dave Mohammed and Samuel Badree. What the World Twenty20s and the IPL have shown is that spinners are effective in keeping the runs down, either directly or by taking wickets, in the middle overs. It would be wrong to claim that without Twenty20 cricket we would not have these innovations. Twenty20 has only fast tracked these into the cricketing game, and in the old order, they might have been spread over a decade or so. As I see it, cricket, is undergoing a cultural movement akin to the Renaissance. In the spirit of individualism, players are realising their worth and shaping their own destiny. Coaching manuals, which were supposed to be scared, are being questioned. As established, we are undoubtedly seeing a period of great innovations. What is missing is a sense of regard for classical antiquity, ie, Test cricket.]]> Grandmasters of cricket tag:blogs.cricinfo.com,2009:/inbox//140.13502 2009-11-04T11:50:39Z 2009-11-04T12:14:31Z The ICC should commence an Honorary title system for the greatest players in the game Cricinfo From Mahendra Mapagunaratne, Canada

Which of these legends is not in the ICC Hall of Fame? © Getty Images
 
I feel that ICC should commence an honorary title system for the greatest players in the game. One may coin a suitable title but for the sake of this article I suggest Grandmaster or Cricketmaster. No one except the most passionate cricket fans would know whether a certain player is in the ICC Hall of Fame by hearing his name, but certainly a Cricketmaster/Grandmaster title would make people note that he has been honoured and even later generations with little idea of history would realise a certain player with a Grandmaster Title besides his name would have been special in the past. Wouldn't it be marvellous for instance to address Sachin Tendulkar as Grandmaster Sachin Tendulkar? ICC could take a cue from chess. Here is the chess hierarchy in descending order: Super Grandmaster [SGM], Grandmaster [GM], International Master [IM]. I think if you poll the players they are bound to like the idea of having a title beside their names.]]> Where are my slippers? tag:blogs.cricinfo.com,2009:/inbox//140.13472 2009-11-02T10:47:55Z 2009-11-02T11:25:21Z The slip cordon has been the true litmus test as to what constitutes a great team Cricinfo From Mark Browning, Australia

Limited-overs cricket has reduced the importance of the slip cordon © Getty Images
 
The popular saying goes, “Bowlers win matches.” In the longest form of the game they can’t without help. First-class and Test matches are also won by guys who are usually the least athletic members of the team. They are the fieldsmen who don’t run much and stand with their hands on their knees; sticking out their backsides at the spectators. For these are the “slippers”, the unsung heroes of Test cricket. And they have been the true litmus test as to what constitutes a great team. Without the support of “slippers” many bowling legends of the game might be forgotten. Fifty-over cricket diminished the importance of the “slipper” while Twenty20 makes the spot almost redundant. How many know that Cameron White is a fine snaffler of edges? Will a time come when it won’t matter if he’s any good in the cordon or not? One of the main reasons why the Indian team were able to push their hosts in the 2007-08 series Down Under was the reliability of Sachin Tendulkar, VVS Laxman and Rahul Dravid in the cordon in making the most of the opportunities provided. In his final summers Richie Benaud’s television commentary role has been reduced to intermittent observer, but he was spot-on when he lamented the absence of slip-catching specialists. Their type played a large part in Australia’s dominance in times gone by. Benaud himself was superb in the gully and in his era Neil Harvey took some beauties. ]]> Bob Simpson who really turned slips catching into an art form. In the classic coaching manual, Cricket; The Australian Way, Simpson’s whole chapter is devoted to “soft hands in the cordon”. “When I played Neil Harvey was in the cordon with me and he was in the top bracket,” he said. “Clive Lloyd was an excellent slips fieldsman in the great West Indian sides of the 1980s. I always admired the work of Colin Cowdrey during my day and I thought Greg Chappell was brilliant as well.” The West Indies also had Viv Richards, Richie Richardson and at times Roger “Inspector Gadget Arms” Harper taking the fliers frequently on offer. In the mid 70s in Australia both Ian and Greg Chappell made sure the explosive efforts of Dennis Lillee and Jeff Thomson were not wasted. And their support staff was also excellent. Ian Redpath was great close in, and Doug Walters was capable of horizontal acrobatics. Offspinner Ashley Mallett had two great summers in the gully between 1974 and 1976. Legendary Australian cricket writer, Ray Robinson labelled the zone, “Octopus Alley”. Ian Redpath said everyone was at a constant fever pitch of anticipation with Lillee and Thomson bowling. Their expectation and skill resulted in even the toughest chances being taken. As a quality pairing though Australia were never in better shape than when Mark Taylor stood at first and Mark Waugh at second slip. They were equally brilliant catching spin or pace and added pressure to opposing batsmen who must have believed any mistake would be their last. Taylor like Colin Cowdrey and Greg Chappell at one time topped the tree for Test catches. In one of the greatest fielding feats of all time he won the Man-of-the-Match award in a one-day international against West Indies at the SCG in 1992 for taking four slips catches. Mark Waugh, who has now be pushed to second spot in the Test catches list by Rahul Dravid, has said, “Slip is a position where you have to be a natural at it. Really, you’ve either got it or you haven’t. You have to have reflexes and the ability to concentrate every ball. You might be in there all day and the ball comes to you once and you have to be ready for it. It’s a tough spot.” Waugh’s spectacular ability was best demonstrated with the low right-handed horizontal dive when he caught Alec Stewart at Leeds in 1993. It is available on recorded vision and one of Waugh’s own personal favourites. The anticipation, speed and flexibility will leave any viewer gob smacked.]]> The genesis of a cricket nut tag:blogs.cricinfo.com,2009:/inbox//140.13428 2009-10-30T12:11:13Z 2009-10-30T12:38:18Z Cricinfo From Gopal Rangachary, India

The late 70s was a good time in India to become a cricket fan © Getty Images
 
Are you born a cricket nut or do you become one? At least in my case, that is the one thing I can’t blame my genes for (I have successfully blamed them for a variety of character flaws from being disorganised to having ghastly handwriting). My father was apparently anti-cricket - thought it was a waste of time – and if he had lived long enough to see me through my teenage, the world of cricket nuttiness’ would have lost me. I have impeccable pedigree though for a cricket nut. I was born near the home of cricket (no, not in the Lord’s pavilion. It would have been impossible to have done so, as women weren’t allowed in at the time). Actually I was probably born closer to Edgbaston than to Lord’s, but at least in the country that invented cricket – and when I was seven moved to the new spiritual home of cricket, India. My primary school was at Bramall Lane in Sheffield, which is the only inactive Test venue in England today. I understand there was a turgid Test played out there about 100 years ago, where England lost to Australia. My early recollections of sport in England are patchy. I vaguely remember kicking (or given my motor skills, missing) a football a few times, and playing one game of cricket in the street. My duties were vaguely described to me as “fielding”, and I remember being positioned at what would be a very deep long-on at the Adelaide Oval, and probably at the back of the bar on most Test grounds nowadays. Needless to say, it didn’t capture the imagination too much. ]]> in Pakistan). Indian TV, in those days, and for about 15 years thereafter meant those who were affluent enough to afford a television could watch a few hours of sanitised fare offered by the state broadcaster, Doordarshan. The match was apparently headed for a tight finish. Pakistan needed about 150 runs in an hour and a half, and one of my cousins bet a sum of 10 paisa (the equivalent of a one quarter of one US cent), that India would lose the match. Doing some shrewd calculation, I figured that it would be impossible to run back and forth a 150 times in an hour and a half, and therefore challenged him. Unfortunately, I hadn’t been told about the existence of fours and sixes (and of some distinctly unchallenging India bowling), and India promptly went on to lose. I don’t actually recall paying up though. The loss was followed by the inevitable soul searching and recrimination, a process which was to create a lifelong impression on me. The conversation went like this:
Me: Who is our captain? Cousin: A chap called Bedi. Me: How many runs did he score? Cousin: Zero. Me: Our captain himself scored zero. Are we such a bad team? Cousin: No. We have one great player called Gavaskar. Me: How much did Gavaskar score? Cousin: He scored 97, and would have scored more if the umpire didn’t give him out wrongly.
At the end of that conversation, I was a Gavaskar fan, a Bedi detractor and a lifelong believer in the injustice of Pakistani umpiring. Rarely can impressions formed on such rickety foundations prove so long lasting. Gavaskar is still the greatest opening batsman of all time, and the greatest Indian batsman I have seen.In the late 70s being a Gavaskar fan, obviously meant being anti-Viswanath, the cricketing equivalent of George W Bush’s “If you ain’t with us, you are against us” philosophy. So I must admit that I found Vishy’s double-hundred against England at Madras excruciating, and silently revelled in his misery in Pakistan. Now I scour YouTube in vain for the occasional clip of that famed square cut! Nor did I enjoy Gavaskar’s batting too much. Most of the time I spent biting my nails, and indulging in various superstitions, of sitting in particular positions while watching him, petrified that he’d make a mistake and I would have to face the taunts of the Viswanath camp. The late 70s was a good time in India to become a cricket fan. Even by today’s breakneck pace of international scheduling, it was a busy time for Indian cricket. In the space of a couple of years, India had home series against West Indies, Australia and Pakistan and sandwiched between that was a tour of England and the World Cup (Maybe I can now expect a stern letter from the ICC for not calling it the 1979 ICC Cricket World Cup, or an equally ridiculous name that they have retroactively come up with). Looking back at this period, I am amazed at how I progressed from a very sketchy knowledge of the game at the start of that West Indies series in 1978, to a frenzied spectator at Madras’ Chepauk stadium towards the end of the India-Pakistan series in Jan 1980.]]> Mystery and Magic: Iverson, Ramadhin, Gleeson and Mendis tag:blogs.cricinfo.com,2009:/inbox//140.13295 2009-10-26T04:56:30Z 2009-10-29T12:31:25Z Cricinfo From S.Giridhar and V.J. Raghunath, India

Australian bowler John Gleeson demonstrates his grip © Cricinfo Ltd
 
A prison cell during World War II: An Australian prisoner of war is spinning a ping-pong ball to pass time. Iverson is trying out different grips to flick and turn the ping-pong ball against the wall. He finds he can turn the ball both ways by flicking the bent middle finger on either side of the ball and keeps practicing. When the war is over, Iverson unleashes this in Sheffield Shield. Called to play against Freddie Brown’s English team in 50-51, he takes 6 for 27 in the second innings of the third Test in Sydney….. Iverson is the pioneer, the “first man ever” in this story about right-arm mystery spinners. If Bosanquet introduced the googly to add magic to leg spin and if Saqlain discovered the doosra to spice up offspin, then Iverson it was who first showed the world the magic of imparting spin either way with fingers in a manner difficult for batsmen to fathom. How rare is the mystery finger spinner? The title of our article itself contains the names of all the well-known exponents of this art form. There are over 150 spinners in Test history but Iverson, Ramadhin, Gleeson and Mendis occupy the table of mystique – the Harry Potters of cricket. ]]> Today’s torch bearer: Just a few matches into his international career, a lethal delivery of his that turns less than the width of a bat has already been christened the “carrom ball”. The buzz around the ground when Ajantha Mendis is called on to bowl is very different – the air of great expectancy is such that the excitement simply boils over. Uncannily, there is a military connection here too, for Mendis comes from the Sri Lankan Army. There is a truly wonderful close-up photograph of Iverson’s grip in the Wisden Almanack. And we who have watched Mendis’ grip in great detail over TV would be completely forgiven if we thought the hand holding the ball in that photograph was that of Iverson. The grip is all about how using the thumb and middle finger the ball will be flicked or propelled. It will be the middle finger that will decide whether the ball will go one way or the other. Not much turn but that lethal amount enough for an edge, LBW or bowled. Bowlers who know what is involved in delivering the ball, will be the first to acknowledge that to propel a cricket ball over 20 yards with the middle finger imparting spin calls for extraordinarily strong fingers. It is probably many times harder than the flipper which is squeezed out between thumb and finger. The Magician’s Demeanor: Sonny Ramadhin brought a mystique to his bowling. Sleeves buttoned up always, wearing a cap when bowling, fast whirring action, Ramadhin created a Houdini-like atmosphere when he bowled. Iverson of Australia played just one Test series in 1950-51 in which he took 21 wickets. An injury and he was gone for ever. Yet twenty years later when an unknown bowler called Gleeson was spotted in New South Wales, they said, “look at Gleeson, he is bowling Iversons!” The lure of mystery is something irresistible. Perhaps that was the reason Gideon Haigh the cricket historian wrote his painstakingly researched biography of Iverson - a biography not of a cricketer who played just five Tests or who took his own life many years later but of a pioneer who gave cricket something new. Ramadhin appeared on the world stage around this time but played for a full decade. In 43 Tests, Ramadhin took 158 wickets. Bowling in tandem with the left-arm spinner Alf Valentine, Ramadhin caused havoc in England. His match figures of 11 for 182 in the famous series win against England in 1950 and his partnership with Valentine immortalized him in calypso. Ramadhin bowled his off break with his middle finger down the seam (a conventional off spinner would have this across the seam) and surprised batsmen with the odd ball from the leg with no apparent change of action. The hype over his disguised leggie mesmerised the English batsmen who were even more tied to the crease than usual – doubt and demon freezing their minds. However Down Under, the Australians decided to play him with better footwork and go down the wicket to play him off the pitch, a ploy that made him much less of a problem. In his second tour of England in 1957, Ramadhin started sensationally by spinning England out in the first innings of the first Test in Edgbaston. But in the second innings, May and Cowdrey made a then record third-wicket partnership of 411. They played a lot with their pads stretched forward, playing outside the line and treating him as an off spinner, ending his ascendancy forever. An amazing facet of Ramadhin’s bowling is that he got a whopping 61.5 % of his dismissals entirely by himself —that is he got them bowled or LBW or C&B. In this aspect he is No. 1 among all bowlers – fast and slow - with 150 or more wickets. Johnny Gleeson started late – and was in late twenties when he made his debut in Sheffield Shield cricket. Catching the eye of Benaud and Bradman, Gleeson was pitchforked into the Australian team. Off a long run, Gleeson spun the ball both ways but used as a stock bowler by Lawry he lost his nip soon. Gleeson played 29 Tests for 93 wickets and on only three occasions did he take a five-for in an innings. Uncharitable though it may seem, Gleeson among the four mystery spinners appears the most prosaic. Perhaps we are biased by the fact that we saw him bowl against India in 1969 along with Mallet and found Mallet to be the more dangerous. He seemed accurate enough but not dangerous and the Indians seemed to pick him. Borde the stalwart Indian batsman said that was because Indians read the bowler’s hand rather than off the pitch. And after Gleeson, for a long time - 36 years to be precise – there was not a whiff of the mystery spinner till Mendis burst on the scene. In nine matches he has 42 wickets; he already has a ten-wicket haul in a Test match. The picture of Dravid completely bamboozled by the carrom ball that knocked his off stump is fresh in everyone’s mind. But the TV is an inexorable enemy. Every bit of his action is being minutely examined. His googly anyway was easier to pick as it came of a clearly loopier trajectory. Pakistan played him so well recently that he was dropped. The pressure is only going to increase. The problem with these mystery spinners is that the minute they are sorted by batsmen they seem to wither away. We can do no better than conclude with these words of Gideon Haigh: “….when mystery wears off there must be a residue of skill and resilience. Indeed, many international cricket careers now unfold like whodunits solved in the first 30 pages; after that, the player is a quarry on the run, trying to stay a step ahead of his opponents…..The acid test of Ajantha Mendis, then, is not what he is doing now, but how his game is standing up in two years' time.” ]]> Mystery of the missing wrist-spinners tag:blogs.cricinfo.com,2009:/inbox//140.13294 2009-10-24T06:35:14Z 2009-10-24T14:52:52Z A venture capitalist is required in England, South Africa and New Zealand, who haven't produced any top-quality wrist-spinners Cricinfo From R .Giridharan, India

England has had plenty of quality finger spinners like Derek Underwood, but where are the wrist-spinners? © Getty Images
 
An arrogant cricketing official once dismissed a young Kapil Dev, “There are no fast bowlers in India”. One wonders whether aspiring wrist-spinners in England, New Zealand and South Africa were rebuffed in similar ways. This article is a humble attempt to identify the factors that conspired against the emergence of any worthwhile wrist spinner from these countries. Nature, of course, is the first stumbling block. The wickets in England and New Zealand are soft and green and the outfields moist, breaking the heart of any wrist spinner. Overcast skies encouraged captains to prefer gentle wobblers over the tweaker. In South Africa, wickets are harder, but loaded with juice that the quicks can exploit. Currie Cup, the premier domestic competition was played for long with two balls, thereby keeping the ball newer for longer periods. The quicks therefore remain in the hunt throughout. The three teams believe in keeping things tight, drying up easy runs and throttling the opposition, especially when spinners are bowling. Spinners are expected to play second fiddle and perform effective hold-ups while the quicks rest, refresh and recharge. Finger spinners fit the bill admirably. Indeed, Lohmann, Verity, Lock, Laker, Underwood, Giles, Panesar (Eng), Tayfield, Symcox, Boje (SA), Dipak Patel, Bracewell, Vettori (NZ) all made their way into the playing eleven as personifications of accuracy, before carving their own niche. The aggressive, predatory worldview of the wrist-spinner would probably be discarded in such a milieu. ]]> Cricket in these countries is seen more as a craft and a science. A finger spinner who wears down the batsman by constantly hammering at his weakness is a natural choice. The greater reliability and predictability of the finger spinner allied with his greater destructive potential on a wearing wicket offers a package that is customised and therefore immediately embraced. Wrist-spinners ride the chariots of rebellion. Their mental aggression belies their small frames and gentle image of a spinner. Their desire to make things happen, at times makes them profligate, an anathema to risk-averse captains. They are their own men and a coach’s nightmare, unless the coach is a patient and wise soul. The game’s biggest oddities are wrist-spinners, Chandra (with a deformed hand), Paul Adams (frog-in-a-blender action), Ajantha Mendis (carrom-ball grip) to name a few. Formal coaching structures in conservative establishments prevalent in these countries are likely to frown upon such mavericks. Wristwork is often associated with oriental magic, a view accentuated by the plethora of wrist spinners emerging from the subcontinent as well as the artful hockey players. Wrist-spinners are generally smaller in build, sloppier in the outfield and more likely to be genuine rabbits with the bat. There are notable exceptions like Kumble and Warne, but MacGill, Chandra, Hirwani, Qadir, Mendis, Bob Holland, Danish Kaneria do reinforce the stereotype. Thus the overall utility of a wrist-spinner when benchmarked against conventional yardsticks would be lower. Cricket, like any other discipline, thrives on role models. The home-grown models like Denis Compton, Ken Barrington and Mike Atherton were peerless batsmen and used wrist spin as a pleasurable past time. Even Johnny Wardle, the most seasoned English purveyor of this art, bowled finger spin at home. The leading overseas practitioners were two Pakistani allrounders, Mushtaq Mohammad and Intikhab Alam apart from the peerless Garry Sobers. Thus a role model for a specialist wrist spinner did not exist in England. Parallels can be drawn with the Indian experience where, till the emergence of Javagal Srinath, India’s new-ball bowlers were allrounders of varying genuineness. New Zealand and South Africa are profoundly impacted by the old art. Anil Kumble, Mushtaq Ahmed and Shane Warne have played county cricket in recent times and may be a revolution is taking place silently. Many facets of wrist spin are counter-intuitive and are, unsurprisingly, shunned by orthodoxy. Wrist spin requires a mix of art and adventure sport. Zimbabwe could unearth a Paul Strang, grassroots cricket in India and Kapil Dev could help the country shed its aversion to pace. A venture capitalist is required in England, South Africa and New Zealand. Finetuning D/L method for Twenty20s tag:blogs.cricinfo.com,2009:/inbox//140.13286 2009-10-20T18:17:48Z 2009-10-20T18:35:59Z Cricinfo From Tim Parsons, United Kingdom

How many Powerplay overs should West Indies have got in the rain-interrupted Twenty20 game against England? © Getty Images
 
I think the Duckworth-Lewis system for Twenty20 games needs reviewing. This occurred to me after England's World Twenty20 match against West Indies in June. To recap: England scored 161 in their 20 overs and, following a rain-delay, West Indies were set a revised target of 80 from nine overs. The number of Powerplay overs was reduced from six to three. This was all mathematically logical, but the revised target presented West Indies with an easier target. To understand why, think about it this way. It is as if West Indies were told: you have already batted for eleven overs, the score is 81 for 0, and you have a further 80 runs to make to win. Not only that, but three of the remaining nine overs are Powerplay overs. Which team wouldn't accept that with open arms? The reason why this target was too soft boils down to two things that make Twenty20 different from the 50-over game 1. Powerplay overs are much more valuable in most Twenty20 games than most 50-over games. 2. High scoring-rates can be more easily maintained for the lower number of overs you get in a reduced Twenty20 game. So, in the England-West Indies match, a fairer target would have been possibly nearer 85 or even 90 with no Powerplay overs left. ]]> Here are two ways the ICC could tweak the D/L system for Twenty20 games. 1. Reduce the number of Powerplay overs in a linear rather than a proportionate way. By that I mean that if the number of overs remaining is halved, the number of Powerplay overs should not be halved but reduced by the number of total overs reduced. For example, if the number of overs is reduced by one, from 20 to 19, the number of Powerplay overs should be reduced by one, from six to five. This seems to me to be logical and mathematically justifiable 2. Consider recalibrating the maths slightly for the shortened version of the game to require proportionately higher scoring-rates as the number of overs remaining is reduced. I accept that the second suggestion is, for a layman like me, less easy to justify mathematically, but the first seems to me to be logical, mathematically understandable, and obvious. The D/L system has worked well in ODIs even though it is incomprehensible to the average person. I can live with that as long as it is logical. But if it comes to the point where the system is both incomprehensible and illogical then that is surely the time for it to be changed. The chinaman bowler - odd man in tag:blogs.cricinfo.com,2009:/inbox//140.13160 2009-10-12T06:00:07Z 2009-10-12T10:31:28Z Cricinfo From S.Giridhar and V.J. Raghunath, India

South Africa's Paul Adams is one of the most successful chinaman bowlers © Cricinfo Ltd
 
We set off to do a story on offspinners and left-arm spinners – similar to what we had done some months back on legspinners. We had hoped that our favourite mystery and left-arm chinaman bowlers will find adequate space. To our dismay we found that many of the names that rolled deliciously off our tongues just did not have enough wickets to qualify under stodgy criteria such as minimum number of wickets, etc. So we said, to hell with all that – let us just enjoy ourselves writing about our favourite chinaman and mystery bowlers – the non-conformists, conjurors and sleight-of-hand purveyors. The left-arm chinaman is a mirror image of the right-arm leg break – bowled by turning the wrist so that the ball turns the opposite way to left-arm finger spin. When bowled back of the hand, it becomes the googly, it turns the other way. We identified 10 chinaman bowlers as we trawled through the history of the game. Even if you were to add up all the wickets taken by the chinaman bowlers it would be less than a combined tally of Bedi and Underwood. There are 45 left-arm spinners who have more than 40 wickets each but just four chinaman bowlers who meet this criterion. The strike-rate of the chinaman bowler is superior (a wicket every 70 balls as compared to 79 for the orthodox left-arm); the bowling average is similar, 31.6 as compared to 31.2. The difference is that while the 45 left-arm spinners have taken over 4800 wickets in 1605 matches, the 10 chinaman bowlers have played only 184 matches to take 427 wickets. ]]> Garry Sobers bowl a lot of this stuff. In fact they were so fortunate that they saw that genius bowl left-arm fast, slow orthodox and chinaman all on the same afternoon. His 235 test wickets are a wonderful mix of all three. In the fifties, Johnny Wardle played for England. A maverick – and that sat badly in England – he bowled orthodox finger spin in England, but served up chinaman and googlies abroad. He bowled the way his heart dictated and he bowled really well - 28 Tests, 102 wickets at a strike rate of 65 balls per wicket. His average of 20.39 is the best for any post-war spinner who has over 100 wickets. In our statistical analysis, he is second-best among left-arm spinners since 1900 (min. 50 wickets) which is awesome. But he rubbed the administrators and his captain Peter May the wrong way. He would have played a lot more games for England but for May’s preference for his Surrey team-mate Tony Lock. Time for a lovely story: Johnny Martin who played for Australia in the sixties bowled his chinaman very slowly through the air. In a Sheffield Shield match, Martin beat a batsmen all ends up and struck him on the back foot in front of the stumps. To his utter disgust, the Umpire turned down his appeal. Martin asks the umpire: “What’s wrong, ump, isn’t he in front?” Umpire: “Yes son, he is”. Martin: “Then why isn’t he out?” Umpire: “Because the ball wouldn’t have reached the stumps, Johnny!” Why is it that most of the chinaman bowlers are from Australia? Is there something in the Australian air that makes spinners bowl back-of-the-hand wrist spin rather than finger spin? Just as they have given cricket so many famous legspinners from Mailey to Warne and MacGill, so too have they provided us a line of chinaman bowlers, from Fleetwood-Smith to Hogg. Strangely, Australia hardly has a worthy presence among orthodox left-arm spinners.

Chuck Fleetwood-Smith is sadly best remembered as the bowler who leaked the most runs in an innings © The Cricketer International
 
Fleetwood-Smith (10 Tests, 42 wickets) in spite of some sterling performances in the 1930s is unfortunately best remembered as the bowler who conceded the highest number of runs in an innings - one for 298 out of an England score of 903 for 7. This was The Oval test where Hutton made 364. Much later, Lindsay Kline (13 Tests, 34 wickets) and Martin (eight Tests, 17 wickets) had their unforgettable moments too: Kline took a hat-trick against South Africa in 1957 but his moment of glory was as a No. 11 bat for Australia in the famous 1960-61 series against West Indies. Coming in as the last batsman he stayed for more than 100 minutes with Slasher Mackay to earn Australia a draw in Adelaide. More than the fact that he lasted against Hall, Sobers, Worrell and Gibbs for that long, what was amazing was that he was practicing at the nets in the afternoon against similar bowling for more than an hour as if anticipating what he would be called upon to do later that day! Immediately after, he was dropped for the final Test – typical of Australian cricket, no sentiment at all. Martin’s moment came in the same series. After the famous Tie in Brisbane, Australia won the second Test comfortably in Melbourne, thanks to Davidson and Martin’s bowling. In a golden spell, Martin removed Kanhai, Sobers and Worrell in four balls. Had he done it in three, it would surely have ranked as the grandest hat-trick ever! Time once more to pull the leg of the chinaman bowler: This story was told with great relish by Dileep Sardesai. In the fourth Test in Barbados of India’s landmark tour of West Indies in 1971 – the series belonged as much to Sardesai as it did to Gavaskar – India were 70 for 6 and Sardesai was left with Solkar to repair the damage. Sobers, the West Indies captain, had Inshan Ali their chinaman bowler on at one end. Now, for the Indians this slow bowler was a far happier proposition and not wanting Sobers to change him, Sardesai and Solkar decided that in every Inshan Ali over they would deliberately appear to be beaten by the odd delivery, as though they had failed to pick him. Sardesai chortled that the extended spell to Inshan Ali actually helped the Indian cause. Knowing Sardesai, this could well be a true story! Not much need be said about the chinaman bowlers of the last 25 years. We have watched them in close detail on TV. None more so than Paul Adams of South Africa, perhaps the only bowler to have ever had his face towards the umpire while delivering! His action – called frog in the blender – caused great consternation to the English batsmen when he was first unleashed. But batsmen sorted him out in time, because although Adams bowled good length and line he became too predictable. Nevertheless, by the time he finished he had 134 wickets in 45 matches. More recently, we have seen Hogg – tongue hanging out – bowl for Australia. Katich bowls too but we think that he should be bowled a lot more by Ponting. It is surprising that the sub continent that produced left-arm orthodox spinners (Vinoo Mankad, Bishan Bedi, Dilip Doshi and Iqbal Qasim come to mind), does not have a single chinaman bowler in its Test history. The one chinaman bowler who could have played for India was a wonderfully gifted bowler from Hyderabad – Mumtaz Hussain. A contemporary of Gavaskar, Mumtaz promised a lot when he made his name in university and Ranji Trophy cricket with a mesmerizing mix of orthodox left-arm, chinaman and the googly. He was so difficult to read that the keeper had to devise a set of hand signals to read him. Sadly within a couple of seasons Mumtaz had greatly reduced his chinaman and bowled mainly orthodox finger spin. Soon – for it was the time when Bedi ruled – Mumtaz faded away into the anonymity of first-class cricket. It is probably the closest that India came to having an international chinaman bowler. ]]> Chris Martin: A Rabbit's Tale tag:blogs.cricinfo.com,2009:/inbox//140.13105 2009-10-07T15:47:06Z 2009-10-07T19:55:37Z Think about it. Which other sport allows you to watch a top athlete do something he’s woeful at? Rugby fans don’t get to see Shane Williams jump in the lineout. Football supporters don’t get to see Shaun Wright-Phillips in goal during a penalty shoot-out. We cricket lovers do get to see Chris Martin bat. Cricinfo From Imran Coomaraswamy, United Kingdom

A familiar sight for Chris Martin © Getty Images
 
They just don’t make them like they used to. The genuine rabbit, a creature prone to prodding meekly at balls outside off stump and liable to leap out of the way of anything close to the body, is now an endangered species in international cricket. Everywhere we look, tailenders are working hard at their batting and scoring more runs. The members of the Australian fast bowlers' union are the worst tailenders of the lot. Glenn McGrath, surprisingly but fittingly, led the way in 2004 by reaching a half-century at the 115th time of asking. Since then, we’ve seen courageous final stands in the 2005 Ashes, fifties aplenty, Mitchell Johnson’s heroic hundred and Dizzy’s frankly ridiculous double. Here in England, Duncan Fletcher orchestrated a ruthless rabbit cull. Dear old Monty managed to survive, but only because he is every bit as industrious as he is inept, in contrast to his undeniably indolent predecessors Phil Tufnell and Devon Malcolm. However, all is not lost for rabbit-lovers. In seamer Chris Martin, New Zealand, warren of some pedigree - Ewen Chatfield, Danny Morrison and Geoff Allott spring to mind - have produced a very fine specimen indeed. What's more, there is a strong case for anointing Martin as the worst batsman Test cricket has ever seen. Not many players have managed to chalk up fewer runs than wickets over their career. Martin, however, has in 50 tests scored only half as many runs (82) as he has taken wickets (165). He has an overall batting average of 2.34, but a closer look reveals that, like many others in recent times, he has feasted on minnows. If we exclude his innings against Zimbabwe and Bangladesh (in which he has ruthlessly plundered 16 runs without being dismissed), his average plummets to 1.88. Among all those who have batted ten or more times in Tests, no one has fared worse. Roughly speaking, a third of his visits to the middle have resulted in ducks (25 of them), another third have seen him stranded on zero, and the final third have produced single digit scores. (The one exception, his magnum opus of 12 not out, was achieved against Bangladesh; his best against a major nation is merely a magnificent 7). If he continues at this rate, Courtney Walsh’s world record for the most ducks (43) won’t be intact for much longer. These figures are astonishing, but what of the things statistics cannot convey - technique, style, image, impact? ]]> allow Jesse Ryder the chance to reach his maiden century and the latter’s overriding emotion was disbelief. Often overlooked for ODIs, Martin once revealed that John Bracewell had no misgivings about selecting him in Twenty20 matches because the “likelihood of me having to bat is quite minimal.” Such is his cult status among Black Caps fans that he made a cameo appearance on comedy TV show Pulp Sport, advertising a ‘Learn to bat like Chris Martin’ video. Indeed, he has no pretensions about his ability and no aspirations whatsoever. In his 301 matches in professional cricket (both domestic and international), every single time he has walked out to bat, it has been as his team’s very last able-bodied batsman. It doesn’t matter whether it’s Twenty20 or 20 minutes before tea on the fifth day, white clothes or white balls, Southampton or South Island, the sight of Chris Martin at the crease means that there is only one wicket left to fall. And fall it most surely and swiftly will. Now, the Kiwis are certainly not the only cricket fans who love watching a genuine rabbit in action. In fact, one might go as far as saying that any true cricket fan, provided his or her team's fortunes aren't hanging in the balance, enjoys doing so. It is, after all, an experience unique to cricket. Think about it. Which other sport allows you to watch a top athlete do something he’s woeful at? Rugby fans don’t get to see Shane Williams jump in the lineout. Football supporters don’t get to see Shaun Wright-Phillips in goal during a penalty shoot-out. We cricket lovers do get to see Chris Martin bat. Sadly, if the rabbit-killers and manufacturers of multi-dimensional cricketers get their way, we’re likely to see less and less of his kind in future. So while we can, we should cherish Chris Martin, the latest and, quite possibly, greatest of Test cricket’s rabbits. ]]> The art of swing tag:blogs.cricinfo.com,2009:/inbox//140.12856 2009-09-23T08:01:37Z 2009-10-07T16:07:23Z Once the ball turns older and more tattered, it will instigate a movement in the opposite route to where it would originally swing, disregarding the change in the bowler’s grip. For example, with the grip for an outswinger, the ball will move towards the batsman in the air while an inswinger will move away from the bat Cricinfo
Wait until that thing grows older © Getty Images
  Reverse-swing has emerged as a key weapon in a fast bowler’s repertoire, and has grown in prominence with the advent of the limited-overs game. The likes of Brett Lee, Umar Gul and Lasith Malinga have used the art to be lethally effective in the death overs. But what is reverse-swing, how did it evolve and, more generally, what makes the ball move around in the air? SM Arsalan Arif Khan from Pakistan offers a guide to swing bowling. Many times in international matches we hear commentators use term “reverse swing” through the end of an innings. But most of the people don’t know what it is, except for grasping the fact that the ball somehow tends to reverse in a certain way when it gets old. Reverse swing is essentially an art. It is generally applied when the ball is old and rough with the help of extreme pace, even moderate sometimes (if executed properly), and get it to work lethally. But before a bowler can think of reverse-swing, he must first go through the basic procedure of tracing his steps toward the root of swing, as the ability to swing is an art in itself. What is Swing? When a ball is released from the wrist, it habitually moves in the air and bounces directly proportional, or sometimes vice versa, towards or away from a batsman when a pace bowler is in operation. Swing merely consists of aerodynamics, which I’ll come to later. It is a known fact that most fast bowlers strive for this sort of variation because it is a serious cause for concern for batsmen. Imagine yourself driving on a lane and encountering a vehicle moving to the left, but suddenly in full speed it decides to move in your direction. The judgment and reflexes then, of you as a batsmen or a natural human being, rely on your instinct; sometimes you survive the variation, sometimes you don’t. Batsmen gradually become accustomed to playing general swing, which is easier to judge and also gets predictable. Such swing is likely to occur in the first ten or 15 overs of a match when the ball is still hard. However, recently, with the game constantly evolving, new-ball bowlers have discovered a way of swinging the older ball, especially when it’s dusty and scruffy. The movement, in this case, makes it more difficult for the batsmen to judge. But to attain it, there are a number of factors to consider. ]]> The Role of the Cricket Ball
If you see a lot of cricket, or play in clubs, you will realize that fielders continuously shine the ball with their trousers or towels. The cricket ball has two sides across the seam. When players shine the ball, they deliberately leave one side rough while adding glossy sparkle to the other. The rubbing helps one side of the ball smoothen while the opposite is deliberately left to deteriorate through routine wear and tear. This is where aerodynamics come in, because the dual surface enhances a change in rhythm of flight from the bowler’s wrist to the batsman. The aerodynamics mean that the shiny side is prone to travel quicker through the air while the rough side works as a break pushing the ball in its direction. The Seam Position
The stitching you notice around the cricket ball is called a seam. The seam acts like a helm for fast bowlers. All fast bowlers grip the seam vertically, with the middle and index fingers on either side, with the ball resting in the third finger and thumb. The idea of enhancing your swing is to hold the seam as straight as possible: The straighter the seam is at the point of delivering the ball, the greater the chance to swing it. And if the ball is old with one side shiny, the chances of variation will increase. What are inswing and outswing?
Most bowlers get confused here. To move a ball in a typical fashion away from a left-handed batsman, the rougher side of the ball will be facing leftwards at point of release: notice the seam should be darting toward second slip. And it is understandably the other way round for an inswinging delivery; the rough side should be on right at point of release and the seam should be darting at an imaginary leg slip. What is reverse-swing?
Once the ball turns older and more tattered, it will instigate a movement in the opposite route to where it would originally swing, disregarding the change in the bowler’s grip. For example, with the grip for an outswinger, the ball will move towards the batsman in the air while an inswinger will move away from the bat. Such variations usually occur very late after the ball is released, therefore it is extremely difficult for batsmen to judge the deviation in split seconds. Batsmen usually pick the changes in direction while in the air to confront the issue. It is not easy to execute revere swing, as they say bowlers need to be pace it at a minimum of 80 mph or above. Former Pakistan international Sarfraz Nawaz is known to have founded reverse swing during the late 1970s, and he passed his knowledge on to Imran Khan. Mechanics
There have been plenty of theories about why, but here's the simplest explanation from former England bowling coach Troy Cooley: “Reverse swing is all to do with the deterioration of the ball and the seam position in flight. As the ball becomes rougher, it will take on a different characteristic as it deteriorates. So if you present the ball as an outswinger, the ball has deteriorated so much on the rough side that it takes on the characteristics of the shiny side. Which means a natural outswinger will become an inswinger and conversely, an inswinger into an outswinger." How does it work?
Considering the fact that reverse swing generally occurs after 40 overs, it is tailor-made for the older ball. However, some of the England bowlers were able to reverse-swing the ball within 20 overs during the 2005 Ashes; Brett Lee managed it in 30 overs at Adelaide. But how can they manage to do this so early in the innings? One reason could be the ball. In England, Test balls are manufactured by Dukes, while in Australia and parts of the sub-continent the Kookaburra brand is usually used. Like footballs, each manufacturer’s cricket balls are different. Some have more pronounced seams while others deteriorate slower, all of which have an influence on how the ball will move in the air. Another theory is how some players are able to rough the ball up faster than other teams. In England's some years back, Steve Harmison and Andrew Flintoff both banged the ball hard into the pitch. Their fielders often threw the ball back to wicket-keeper Geraint Jones on the bounce from the outfield, all of which contribute to the deterioration of the ball. Regardless of all this, batsmen the world over know what to expect when the ball starts to get older.]]> Ten tips for improving England's ODI chances tag:blogs.cricinfo.com,2009:/inbox//140.12658 2009-09-12T10:15:53Z 2009-10-07T16:07:29Z We don’t see David Beckham warming up for a World Cup qualifier in Zagreb by chucking down a few doosras to Rio Ferdinand in the nets. It’s just a constant source of ridicule and injury, and I was pleased to see the comments from Andrew Strauss on Cricinfo that suggest this might be a thing of the past. Cricinfo England's ODI debacle against Australia shows where they stand in the shorter version of the game. Here's a look at ten ways in which they could improve their chances.


From Ben J. Tanner, United Kingdom
1. Wield the Axe: I'm not suggesting a return to the late-80s/early-90s revolving door selection policy, which saw Graeme Hick get dropped more often than a Monty Panesar catch. But, if someone has not proven themselves to be up to the job, bin them. 2. Shuffle the Pack: Try new talent out. Rather than repeatedly going back to Owais Shah and Tim Bresnan, see who else is out there. The only real way to find out if they sink or swim is to chuck them in the deep end. Rather than watching the same old has-beens fail time-and-again, why not watch a noob fail instead? You never know, he might not! 3. Get Them In Young: India do it; Pakistan do it all the time; the Windies are often forced to do it; Aussies have been known to do it; even the guys on our level, like New Zealand do it - just look at Dan Vettori. The most left-field and yet most successful one-day pick in the last decade for England was Jimmy Anderson, off the back of half-a-dozen Lancashire appearances and some U-19 cricket. And he was immediately a demon (and continued to be so). Of course, this is difficult when you’re waiting for your best players to actually qualify for England in the first place, but that’s another issue. For the time being, get Chris Woakes and Dawid Malan in the team - an after the Lord Mayor’s show one-day series against the Aussies is the ideal time. ]]> Biff It, Don’t tap it! “Whack it!” is the slogan of a well-known fruit-shaped chocolate product, but it could equally be applied to England’s top order. We don’t, at present, have someone who can hit the ball a very long way from a good length, striking fear into the hearts of opposition bowlers and rousing the love of the crowd. Freddie and KP are the obvious exceptions, but (a) they’re never fit and (b) they always bat too low. Get them in at No. 1, start the innings at 7-an-over in the first Powerplay and the opposition are on the back foot from ball one. Look at the likes of Dilshan and Jayasuriya, Afridi, Ryder and McCullum, Sehwag, even David Warner. 5. Don’t Get Rid of Domestic 50-Over Cricket If you’re not playing it regularly, how do you expect to get good at it. That said, how often do England players actually play for their counties anyway? 6. Play Domestic 50-Over cricket on Uncovered Pitches: This has the effect of: encouraging young bowlers, spinners in particular (of whom there are not enough); weeding out the men from the boys when it comes to batting (no more flat-track bullies); challenging the captaincy nous of the prime candidates, as it adds an extra dimension to their game-planning, suggesting who might have the vision to think outside the box in international games. 7. Don’t Conform: At first glance, England look like they follow this instruction rather too well already. They don’t have a power-hitter; they employ dibbly-dobblers for at least 40 overs every innings; from 2010, they won’t practice the game they play most often. The list goes on. But what I really mean is: think outside the box, when you’re on the field. Try different field placings. Get the keeper to stand up to the seamers (see my next point). Don’t play into the opposition’s hands by being wholly one-dimensional and predictable. Find players like Sohail Tanvir who bowl of the wrong foot, or slinger-Malinga, or mystery spinner Ajantha Mendis, who doesn’t “wheelie-bin” down six stock balls per over; Philip Hughes whose stance is a little too open; Shiv Chanderpaul even more so. 8. Pick James Foster: For goodness sake. He’s the most tidy gloveman around. Probably in the world. He can stand up to all of the seamers, except perhaps for Anderson, and put extra pressure on all those big-hitters who like to dance up and down the track. And he can bat very nicely too, thank you very much. Do you not remember the World Twenty20 tournament - he was pretty much the only positive to be drawn from the whole competition, from an England perspective. 9. Pick Dimi Mascarenhas: I know this is one of my bug-bears. But I’ve got to say it again. The man is an excellent one-day cricketer. He has played in the IPL. He has led a cup-winning side for Hampshire. He, like KP, has learnt a lot from Warney. He hit Yuvraj for five sixes in the last over of an ODI; his economy rate is excellent (4.24 in domestic cricket, as against Broad’s 5.12); he fields well; he’s a character (which England as a unit seem to lack). 10.Put the Football Away: Seriously, guys. We don’t see David Beckham warming up for a World Cup qualifier in Zagreb by chucking down a few doosras to Rio Ferdinand in the nets. It’s just a constant source of ridicule and injury, and I was pleased to see the comments from Andrew Strauss on Cricinfo that suggest this might be a thing of the past.]]> It's the pitches, stupid! tag:blogs.cricinfo.com,2009:/inbox//140.12652 2009-09-12T09:20:49Z 2009-10-07T16:07:33Z The low attendances at Test matches around the world (except England and Australia) has more to do with the quality of cricket than anything else! And the quality of cricket is a direct result of the quality of pitches on which it is played. Cricinfo

From Akash Kaware, India
So, finally efforts are being made to make to ‘rejuvenate’ Test cricket. The ECB have proposed a day-night Test against Bangladesh next year, and the Bangladesh board has agreed. If the ICC approves, we might actually see pink balls and coloured clothing in this most traditional form of the game soon. The intentions of the authorities are certainly noble, but to borrow Greg Chappell’s expression, they’re trying to put a band-aid on cancer! Firstly, why conduct such experiments straightaway in Tests? Shouldn’t they be tried out in first-class cricket first? I remember the Ranji Trophy final played under lights some years ago. None of the players involved had kind words about the experiment and it was dumped soon. However that was nearly 10 years ago, so the time might be ripe to give it another go. The more important question however is, is it really going to help? The low attendances at Test matches around the world (except England and Australia) has more to do with the quality of cricket than anything else! And the quality of cricket is a direct result of the quality of pitches on which it is played. I understand that in a world where television revenue runs the game, it is inadvisable for pitches to be a minefield and have Test matches end in three days, but do they have to go to the other extreme and be so flat that planes can take off from them after the day’s play is over? (The fact that more matches are still producing results is attributable to the monumental ineptitude of some teams more than anything else!) ]]> Whatever happened to pitches that provided movement on day one, were best for batting on days two and three, and offered turn and uneven bounce on days four and five, all the while providing enough assistance to bowlers who were willing to bend their backs and allow batsmen to play their shots? Or, to cut that lengthy sentence short, where have all the sporting pitches gone? The pitches in Australia were once fast and bouncy, South Africa the same along with swing, England and New Zealand were a swing bowler’s haven, the subcontinent was known for its turning tracks. Even within countries, different grounds had their own kinds of pitches. The Gabba and WACA were frighteningly fast, Adelaide was a batsman’s paradise, Sydney was a turner, Melbourne was sporting, Headingley was a serious examination of a batsman’s technique and so on. But in the last couple of years, the pitches seem to have become standardised. They all look the same! Worse, they all look like the ones used in the recent England-West Indies series in the Caribbean, where bowlers were nothing more than high-quality cannon fodder. We have turned a product whose USP was the variety it offered into a commodity and we’re now asking ourselves why the sales are down. Rather than making cosmetic changes and hoping that they work miracles, it would be better to reinvigorate Test matches by making it an even contest between bat and ball. If some Test matches don’t see the light of the fifth day, so be it. If the cricket produced on the four days is good, isn’t it heaps better than a five-day snooze fest which no one bothers to turn up for anyway? If an even contest brings people to the stadiums and gets TV ratings up, isn’t it worth it to risk an occasional three or four-day Test match? Provide the crowd a poor contest, and it hardly matters whether you provide it at night or in the day! They will still do what they are doing now. Stay away! The bottom line is, the boards have let their financial concerns take precedence over everything else. I know it’s easier said than done, but there is a simple solution to making the Test matches more appealing. Just improve the quality of pitches, and therefore the cricket, and the other issues, including the financial ones will take care of themselves. The not so 'glorious' 90s tag:blogs.cricinfo.com,2009:/inbox//140.12614 2009-09-08T14:05:50Z 2009-10-07T16:07:37Z If anything, the current scenario is incredibly exciting: as I write, the gap between No.1 and No.4 on the ICC test rankings is a mere 6 points, which means we're potentially looking at a situation where the No.1 position changing hands regularly- possibly every series - over the next few years Cricinfo From Ashok Sridharan, India So much has been written about the quality of cricket- and I refer exclusively to Test cricket- in the 90s, that one would think it was a golden age - I remember reading the words 'the glorious 90s' in some article recently. Truth be told, it wasn't really quite as rosy as that. I started following cricket starting from the mid-90s and by then Australia were easily the best, with South Africa the only side posing a consistent threat and Pakistan oscillating between champions and wooden spoon holders depending on their mood. Take off those three teams and all you had left, was a bunch of mediocre to poor sides. Granted that the quality of the bowling was better and the quality of the pitches back then was vastly superior, yet Test cricket back then was hardly more exciting than it is today. ]]> If anything, the current scenario is incredibly exciting: as I write, the gap between No.1 and No.4 on the ICC test rankings is a mere 6 points, which means we're potentially looking at a situation where the No.1 position changing hands regularly- possibly every series - over the next few years. Never since the late 70s (well before most of the readers here were even born) has the field been so open. Never has there been a situation where 4-5 teams find themselves with the opportunity to making the No.1 position theirs. The quality of cricket may be lower, but the competition is better today and the number of draws (despite the dead pitches) is at its lowest in decades. Admittedly the contest between bat and ball is ludicrously lop-sided. Even so, Test cricket today is in my opinion (contrary to popular perception) in far better health than it was a dozen years ago. Whereas we had 3-4 sides (India included) competing for the bottom slot back then, we have an equal number fighting for the top now. In short: Test cricket is in unchartered waters now. Rethinking the referral system tag:blogs.cricinfo.com,2009:/inbox//140.12616 2009-09-08T11:48:37Z 2009-10-07T16:07:41Z A decent referral system needs to address the following. Firstly, adjudicate only on the clear errors, and not on the marginal ones. Secondly, avoid the time lost gazing at the screen and the "tactical reviews"- where Monty Panesar asks for a referral for a stone cold lbw simply because the team has a referral left. Cricinfo

From Gopal Rangachary, India Now that the Ashes are over, the post-mortems have begun. Shots have been fired at Ricky Ponting, Andrew Hilditch, the Oval groundsman and not least the standard of umpiring in this series. By any measure, it was embarrassing. Rudi Koertzen and Asad Rauf were poor, Billy Doctrove average, and Billy Bowden had a good series at the business end of the pitch , after a first ball shocker at Leeds, but seems to have missed several wickets off no-balls. The umpiring incompetence has spurred a familiar debate- the use of technology. Sometimes that debate seems as polarized as a Michael Moore v Dick Cheney debate on healthcare. The supporters of technology fumed when Marcus North got a shocker at The Oval, while the opponents like Michael Holding made dark predictions of two-day tests if Hawkeye was adopted as the gold standard. Having watched the referral system on trial during the India v Sri Lanka and West Indies v England Test series, I was mighty relieved to hear that the Ashes wouldn’t be subject to that experiment. That's a curious response, isn’t it? I am a strong believer in getting the decisions right. Consider this - Jonathan Trott appeared to be caught-behind off the first ball of the third day. The ball actually clipped his pad - clear on the replay- and Asad Rauf made a good decision. He could have easily missed that - and instead of contacting travel agents to plan his South African homecoming, Trott could have joined Alan Wells as the answer to a cricket trivia contest for cricket tragics (as players who played their only Test at The Oval ). ]]> first Test between India and Sri Lanka at the SSC in Colombo- Virender Sehwag offers no shot to a ball from Muttiah Muralitharan that seems to have clearly pitched outside leg stump. Sri Lanka call for the review. Ian Bishop says: “That’s pitched outside the leg stump. Not Out will be the verdict". Lo and behold, we get the animations, and the graphics. Suddenly to the disbelief of all of us watching, we are informed that 10% of the ball was line with the leg stump. Out was the verdict. Forward to Jamaica. Tony Hill gives Ramnaresh Sarwan out lbw, Sarwan calls for the review – replays indicate that it probably struck him high, Daryl Harper reverses the decision, Hawkeye then indicates the ball would have hit the top of leg stump. No wonder I was relieved we wouldn’t have this comedy being enacted in the Ashes. The other side of the coin though, was when KP was given out to a ball pitching two feet outside the leg stump in he fourth Test between the teams in Barbados – a dreadful decision from Russell Tiffin. Even Harper got that one right by reversing it. So, you needed the Tiffins and the Asoka De Silvas to vindicate the referral system. A decent referral system needs to address the following. Firstly, adjudicate only on the clear errors, and not on the marginal ones. Secondly, avoid the time lost gazing at the screen and the "tactical reviews"- where Monty Panesar asks for a referral for a stone cold lbw simply because the team has a referral left. The way to go about it, though I suspect the ICC isn’t waiting with bated breath, is this. Firstly, eliminate Hawkeye in its entirety. Get rid of the animations, the "mat", the random data - " ball pitched 2.5 feet in front of the crease" – etc. Don’t use Snicko and don’t use Hot Spot. If a decision cannot be clearly seen to be wrong on normal slow-motion replay, it doesn’t deserve to be reversed. Each of the Ashes stinkers- Michael Hussey and Ricky Ponting at Lords, Ravi Bopara at Leeds, Marcus North and Stuart Clark at The Oval , Ian Bell’s not outs at Edgbaston, Shane Watson's lbw not given at The Oval , Billy Bowden's non-decision on the first ball at Leeds - would have evidently been reversed on a simple slow motion replay. We didn’t need any of the complicated, obfuscating technology. This would ensure that only the more clear-cut wrong decisions would be reversed, and that the third umpire would have access really to the same faculties that the on-field umpires and, most importantly, the players have. The players don’t have a mat showing where the leg stump is, why should the third umpire? Cricket is not 100m racing, archery or shooting. It shouldn’t be a game of millimetres. Also, forget the three referrals each innings per team. Let every team be allowed six referrals (unsuccessful) per match. They could use them when they bat or bowl, and in any innings. Also, the number of unsuccessful appeals should be tallied against the captains and an appropriate penalty system introduced. These measures (even just the first, and forget the one dealing with the captains) would reduce the number of frivolous or tactical references. Some commentators talk about their discomfort with players referring decisions, and they would rather have the umpires make the call. That would be disastrous, and I would imagine we may have every serious appeal being referred. The problem is compounded with the predictive aspect of Hawk Eye. At the Oval , we occasionally saw batsmen kick away balls turning in, two feet away from the off stump. Each time it happened, the commentators would mutter: “The Umpire would be guessing. He can’t give that out.” With Hawkeye - if it shows the ball brushing the outside of off, the umpire, with the referral system in place, will be obliged to. Is that really good for the game?]]> Settlers and sons tag:blogs.cricinfo.com,2009:/inbox//140.12542 2009-09-03T18:38:39Z 2009-10-07T16:07:45Z The Sydney-based Roebuck has long maintained that Aussie dominance in the Ashes is a fitting reflection of the contrast between (what he perceives to be) the vibrant and competitive "prevailing culture" in his adopted home and a chronic national malaise back in the old country. It seems the Australian team’s sudden fall from grace has upset his worldview. Convinced that "English culture" still lacks "vim and vigour," he looks elsewhere for an explanation for England’s recent success. Cricinfo From Imran Coomaraswamy United Kingdom A response to Peter Roebuck’s “No time for back-slapping”.




Andrew Strauss, Kevin Pietersen and Andy Flower - none born in England © Getty Images
I’m a regular follower of Peter Roebuck’s columns for Cricinfo and the Sydney Morning Herald. The former Somerset captain is certainly one of the most eloquent and thought-provoking cricket writers around today. His most recent opinion piece for Cricinfo, however, a warning to English cricket that it’s "no time for back-slapping," strikes me as faintly ridiculous, and some of the comments in it regarding English-born Asian cricketers I find really rather disconcerting. The Sydney-based Roebuck has long maintained that Aussie dominance in the Ashes is a fitting reflection of the contrast between (what he perceives to be) the vibrant and competitive "prevailing culture" in his adopted home and a chronic national malaise back in the old country. It seems the Australian team’s sudden fall from grace has upset his worldview. Convinced that "English culture" still lacks "vim and vigour," he looks elsewhere for an explanation for England’s recent success. ]]> Its Ashes team was not entirely a product of English cricket, or indeed the country at large. Four of the top six batsmen were born in South Africa and raised within its traditions. The coach comes from Zimbabwe, two of the players come from the local Asian communities, and two Irishmen have fought their way into the one-day party. It’s hard to deny that Kevin Pietersen and Johnathan Trott learnt their cricket in South Africa, but including Andrew Strauss (who has lived in England since the age of six) and Matt Prior (who has represented Sussex from Under-12 level upwards) on that list is frankly comical. What is less humorous, however, is Roebuck’s reference to English-born Asians Ravi Bopara and Monty Panesar. In what way is either of these two ‘not entirely a product of English cricket, or indeed the country at large?’ The implication here is that players from local Asian communities are somehow not really English. In fact, Roebuck goes on to articulate this opinion explicitly: “At present, counties have roughly 119 foreign-born players on their books, and that does not include Irishmen (14), Welshmen or Scots. Obviously the 23 locally born Asian players have been omitted. Of course they are a separate category.” Why should locally born Asians even enter into this discussion? In this context, why are they a “separate category” rather than simply locals? Roebuck is on very dangerous ground here, as in the not so distant past, there have been a number of highly controversial public debates on the “Englishness” of black and Asian cricketers representing England, notably the racially charged Henderson affair in 1995. In this case Roebuck makes clear that he celebrates the success of these cricketers, but feels it disguises the fact that “Anglo-Saxon England is underperforming.” (Which Ashes series was he watching? In the one I just saw, Bopara and Panesar underperformed and were dropped.) He notes that the rise of the locally born Asians in county cricket “says a lot about them and English society, all of it favourable.” His remarks about them in this article say a lot about him, not all of it so favourable. It can hardly be convincingly argued that the England cricket team is a product of the system or the national will. To the contrary it consists in no small part of settlers and sons. And it's the same in county cricket. Whatever Roebuck might mean by “the national will,” I find it rather offensive that he regards recent immigrants and their children as being at odds with or excluded from it. There is also no small amount of irony in the fact that these comments are being made by someone who is one of the five million current residents of Australia who were born outside that country’s shores. Roebuck regards the Ashes as both a Test series and a test of the relative merits of the protagonists’ cricketing systems and wider cultures. The essence of his argument in this piece is that while deserving of its victory, Strauss’s team was not really English, and hence the real England does not deserve bragging rights over Australia - the former is still morally bankrupt, while the latter “remains intact.” That sporting success is a direct measure of national self-worth is questionable to say the least. As for the notion of “prevailing culture,” one appalled Cricinfo reader (krumb) has rightly condemned his description of England today as an “absurd caricature that bares [sic] absolutely no relation to a deep and complex society.” I might add that for all its faults, this society is a great deal more inclusive than Roebuck’s comments betray him to be. Other Cricinfo readers have been quick to comment that elsewhere in the same piece, Roebuck manages to make ill-informed statements about the origins of Yorkshire and Geordie dialects, the history of black professional footballers in England, the previous captains of the Indian cricket team and the composition of Surrey’s playing staff. He also sounds a familiar refrain about strong fast bowlers from the mines and classical batsmen from public schools, portraying these as English cricket’s now sadly exhausted seams of cricketing talent, rather than manifestations of a class divide and stereotypes that ought to be eradicated. Amid all this, it must be said that Roebuck makes some very valid points. There is clearly a need to examine whether the success of the likes of Pietersen and Trott is masking a lack of up-and-coming home-grown talent. The jury is still out on whether the various academies and specialist coaches are having an impact. Conflicts of interest in the selection process and the media must be resolved sooner rather than later. The England team is still ranked fifth in the world, and the ECB would indeed do well to avoid back-slapping in favour of further soul-searching. At this point, I should also make clear that I do not believe Peter Roebuck to be a racist. I have read enough of his writings on cricketers of all backgrounds to be convinced otherwise. However, if he intends not to “belittle diversity,” he really ought to reconsider a number of his comments in this piece, and revise his perceptions of English national identity. Finally, I can understand that Surrey’s recent need to sign wicketkeeper Steve Davies from Worcestershire might give someone cause to question the county’s own youth system (though as the 23-year-old is a product of the National Academy and England Under-19s, I wouldn’t myself see this a symptom of English cricket’s ill-health). On the other hand, that Roebuck apparently interprets the fact that “two Afghan refugees open the bowling for their Under-16s” as further evidence of Surrey cricket’s decline is pretty shocking. I should note here that I have no proof other than Roebuck’s word that there are any “Afghan refugees” in Surrey’s Emerging Players Program. What I do know, however, is that they do not have an Under-16 team. Aman Shinwari has opened the bowling for both Surrey Under-15s and Under-17s. From his name, I would guess that he is of Pashtun origin. On the Surrey website, he names James Anderson as his favourite player, and states that his aspiration is to play cricket for England. I sincerely hope that no one ever tells him his success is an indication that Surrey cricket has “run out of gas.”