I have a confession to make. I do not know how the insides of an aeroplane work.
Nor, for that matter, do I quite understand how a microwave functions, or how a computer works, or how on earth some words I type here in Mumbai can be read anywhere in the world almost instantly. I can’t see any of these things happen with my own eyes, and neither can Sambit Bal, who flies much more often than I do, uses the microwave and has, after much coaxing, started blogging (with this blog). He is as comfortable with all of those things as I am. Why, then, is he wary of Hawk-Eye?
These are subjective matters, and Sambit is entitled to his doubts, but I find the particular reason he gives in his last post rather odd. He says that Hawk-Eye’s accuracy isn’t the issue with him, and he accepts that “it gets more lbw decisions right than the umpire”. But he refuses to accept it because it works in a way that his “eyes can’t see”. But that is true of virtually all modern technology. Still, there are people scared of flying, for example, like Dennis Bergkamp. Bergkamp, it must be noted, doesn’t stop others from flying.
I believe that once Hawk-Eye is used in a tournament somewhere on a trial basis, Sambit – and other critics of the technology – will cosy up to it. Indeed, I predict that ten years from now we will all wonder how we ever did without it, just as the days of judging run-outs without action replays seem quaint and archaic to us today. Anything dramatically new in the game evokes an instictive opposition, and I fancy that much the same arguments – the romance of the game, the “glorious uncertainties” – must have been used to rationalise the desire to stick with uncovered pitches. Yet, we moved on, and who wants to turn back now?
It will be the same with Hawk-Eye. And many of the arguments against it are arguments against a straw man. None of Hawk-Eye’s proponents in this debate – Bob Woolmer, SRajesh and I – are saying that Hawk-Eye must be implemented right away, in full. All we are asking for is that you try it for a tournament or two, instead of the kind of ridiculous half-baked experiment the ICC recently carried out in the Super Series. What harm can possibly come from trying it out? Is anyone worried that they might actually begin to like it?
Addenda: Martin Williamson, with characteristic cunning, tries to use my words against me. In his recent post he writes that as the ICC’s experiments with technology during the recent Super Series failed to enthuse me, it “shows how badly it [technology] failed”. Um, no. I criticized those experiments because they used technology in the wrong manner, and were giving it a bad name. Correctly used, I believe technology will vastly enhance the game.
Would you stop eating food because one badly cooked meal gave you a stomach upset?
