April 18th, 2007 by 
Gruff
Where did it all go wrong? 2005 was supposed to herald a new dawn in English cricket, an end to all those painful years when to be an English fan one required a fetish for self harm. They weren’t nicknamed the Barmy Army without good reason.
Yet if you believe some quarters of the media we are presently having dinner at the Restaurant at the end of the cricketing universe. Knee jerk reactions are inevitable just as they were after the end of the football world cup. Surely there can’t be many who haven’t uttered the words ’sack the coach, sack the captain’.
Matthew Hoggard is one of those who believes there isn’t much wrong with the hierarchy and went as far as to suggest that Duncan Fletcher was the best coach in the world. Quite frankly what does that say about the players then, if the best coach in the world can only drag them on their bellies to victories over associate nations and Bangladesh. Read the rest of this entry »
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April 13th, 2007 by Gruff
It is the eve of the opening weekend of the English domestic cricket season, and everyone is tingling at the prospect of scoring their first run or taking their first wicket. Many clubs are only involved in warm up games at this stage, and according to the Kent skipper, Rob Key, we should all hence forth be aware that standard cricket rules do not apply for such games.
Key was snapped by a freelance photographer in Kent’s warm up game against Notts this week, liberally applying a piece of sandpaper to the ball in an attempt to get the ball to reverse swing. Key said:
“My conscience is clear. I won’t be going out and scratching the ball the way I have in this game in a first-class match but these games are used for practice and are a good opportunity to see where people are… Maybe I’ve been a bit naive but it didn’t really occur to me that this might develop into a match-fixing scandal.”
No Bob it just didn’t occur to you that you might get caught at a low key, pre-season friendly, where there would be little media coverage, and now your chubby rosy cheeks have been left redder than normal. Read the rest of this entry »
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April 2nd, 2007 by Gruff
The English language is very often a thing to marvel at. It is a huge melting pot of other languages with a literary tradition to rival many of the modern languages. It has a great fluidity and playful spirit at it’s core which lends itself to poetry and creative writing. All the rules are there to be broken and to use the same adjective twice is to sully the essence of the language with all the clumsiness of a striker putting a tap in over the bar.
Sports journalism has been a great beneficiary of the language. Cricket especially has embraced the language and it has at times existed in perfect syncronisation; an idiosyncratic language married to an eccentric sport. You need look no further than the work of Neville Cardus.
Neville Cardus
One of the great
sports writers
But like a new cricket bat of the finest English Willow, it’s effectiveness and worth can only become a valuable attribute in the correct hands. In the wrong hands it’s detrimental effect can blight sport and have a direct effect on it. Read the rest of this entry »
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March 29th, 2007 by Gruff
It was with glee last night that I sat down to read the 2007 Wisden Cricketers’ Almanack. I hadn’t got 22 pages before I discovered this comment by Matthew Engel, the Editor, which really brought home the state of modern cricket and gave credence to my previous article
Cricket’s great conspiracy theory. It also put perfectly into words why cricket is such an enthralling game for so many:
‘…the beauty of cricket cannot be measured by the number of runs hit in a day. It is a game of context, hinging on the delicate balance between bat and ball. That balance has been getting ever more out of kilter: batsman get stronger, their bats more effective, their padding more generous, the pitches less interesting, umpires more cautious, yet bowlers are scrutinised for the merest hint of ball-doctoring - they can’t even get away with honest-to-goodness old-fashioned seam-picking any more’.
Matthew Engel - Wisden Cricketers’ Almanack 2007. Pg 21)
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March 23rd, 2007 by Gruff
It’s been busy down at the rumour mill this week. There has been more than the seasonal amount of hot air in the sails, and everyone has been working extra hours. It was hoped that it was just a contingency plan, but every cricketing nightmare became reality last night as it was announced that Bob Woolmer, the Pakistan coach had indeed been murdered.
There seems to be two obvious scenarios at this juncture.
The first and the one that everyone is quietly praying for, is an outraged ‘fan’ was so distraught at Pakistan’s loss to Ireland that they have done the unthinkable . This raises many question about why the game has attracted this kind of fantacism.
The finger seems to be firmly pointed at the media and the sponsorship of the game which is pushed on us almost to the point forceful aggression. Players become corporate and then in turn, public property.
We have already seen the attack on Mahendra Singh Dhoni’s house this week. The feeling of intrinsic belonging that the fan is developing has warped the keen watcher into the dangerous fanatic. And the media? Well they just all went along for the ride.
If this were the case, the cricketing fraternity could turn a blind eye, claim it was a string of isolated incidents, and walk on by. Tragic but not immediately damaging to a game that many hold sacrosanct.
The second touted reason, and the one emerging from the most calloused hands of those driving the rumour mill is altogether more sinister and reaches far back into the sinews of cricketing history. It is a shadow on the shoulder of cricket that has been a constant blot on the horizon.
There have been reports of games being fixed reaching back to the dawn of the game, and ever since, it has risen and subsequently faded away, only to rear it’s monstrous head with frightening frequency. Time after time it has been dismissed with the blinkered hope that it had finally been eliminated. The truth was known. It was always easier to ignore than combat though.
And so it has come to this. A potentially apocalyptic watershed moment in cricketing history. A man much loved and respected within the game has been murdered. The hands at the mill are working fast and there are numerous match fixing conspiracy theories.
But consider this. If Bob Woolmer, who many saw as uncorruptable, (and if that was ever found to be untrue, my faith in cricketers would be well and truly destroyed), stood between a bookie and his ability to affect the outcome of a game of cricket, and has subsequently been killed then this truly is the end of the level playing field. Which player in their right mind would compromise the safety of themselves or their family for a game. If this is the case (and i say this as I hold a bag for the produce of the rumour mill, firmly in my hands) then our beloved game will be brought to it’s knees.
“If ain’t broke…..”
Well i’m afraid this time it is broken and it needs fixing
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March 22nd, 2007 by Gruff
Firstly I was genuinely saddened by Bob Woolmers death. As one commentator said he was the ‘Real Mr Cricket’. To take on the role as Pakistan coach was brave, but to work within an administration that is so shambolic and take the team forwards was a phenominal achievement; but I also think he would be the first to realise that he hadn’t got everything correct. He also came across as what is traditionally known as a ‘Bloody nice bloke’.
As we all wait for the dust and media speculation over his death to settle, it has started to become akin to an Agatha Christie novel. I am just waiting for the press to announce that some little old biddy with NHS specs and a blue rinse has taken over the investigation.If there is indeed ‘foul play’ involved it really is a job for Miss Marple or Poirot.
You can picture the scene. Miss Marple, the classic English spinstress is out in the West Indies holidaying in the Carribean for the Cricket World cup with her nephew Montague. They are staying in the same hotel as the Pakistan team and get to know Mr Woolmer very well over afternoon Tea one day.
It then transpires they are staying in the room next to the Pakistan Coach. In the room on the other side is curious Frenchman named Monsieur Hercule Poirot - who is in the Carribean because his flight was diverted from New York on it’s way to Paris. He is only in the hotel for one night.
The morning after the Pakistan v Ireland game they hear the maid scream and both rush in to see what is wrong. They are of course first on the scene. There is blood and vomit around Mr Woolmer. His death is ‘Suspicious’.
The circumstances & the evidence:
-During World Crickets showpiece tournament the coach of one of the worlds most fanatical cricketing nations is found dead.
-There have been recent ball tampering and drug allegations. They have just crashed out of the tournament to a country which doesn’t play the game on mass.
-He is the former coach of a team that was shamed with match fixing scandals and is rumoured to be about to expose all those involved.
Choked on Cricket….take it away Agatha….
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March 19th, 2007 by Admin
From Wickman of
Royal Cricket
Wickman is astonished and gutted to hear the news that Bob Woolmer has died. As a young man Wickman lived in Kent. He could never work out whether he was a Man of Kent or a Kentish Man - but he followed Kent cricket nevertheless. Those were the days with Woolmer, Cowdreys, Iqbal, Ealham etc in the team. The county’s done nothing since.Does anyone think it’s a coincidence that Woolmer died the day after his spineless charges succumbed to an Irish side that has shown it could bowl but has hardly threatened with the bat? Succumbed? Make that capitulated. Even if they had managed to muscle another 40 runs out of their sorry apology for an innings Pakistan would still be at the races. And only a couple of weeks after the controversy over the “fitness” of Shoaib and Mohammed Asif? And all the other extraordinary bull he’s had to put up with over the last few months?
There should be heads hanging in guilt, not just shame, this week in the Pakistan dressing room.
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March 6th, 2007 by Gruff
It may be because I am not opening bat, but I find one of the most exhilarating things when watching or playing cricket (at any level) to be the battle between the fearsomely fast bowler and the courageous opening batsman. The classic example which springs to mind for me is the battles Michael Atherton used to have with Allan Donald.
In that case it would be fair to say that the South African paceman had the better of the exchanges, but all that seems to have changed. The balance now seems to be well and truly with the batsman.
The problem is that pitches now are so slow, and this World Cup promises to epitomise this trend. The home side is a classic example. The West Indies is immensely proud of it’s fast bowling traditions. If you look through the West Indies side now though you would struggle to find anyone with the pace to hurry most club pro’s let alone top class batsman. It is a side full of players who can ‘take the pace off the ball’, and keep it tight during power-plays. How dull.
The modern trend and ICC directives for pitch preparations and power plays to encourage big scores, are slowly killing off the fast men. Sure the best will always prosper as they learn new skills, and methods of out-foxing batsman, but once in a while can’t we just have a quick strip or two. Must the ever-decreasing WACA strip be a clone of it’s counter-part in Karachi. Fast bowlers must also be put on an even keel once in a while, and given a chance to put genuine fear into batsman, rather than just watching the ball whistle to the boundary with soul destroying repetition.
So here comes the conspiracy:
International cricket’s governing bodies are now so dependent on huge broadcasting deals that they are desperate for matches to run their full coarse in order to keep sponsors happy and to avoid having to pay out large refunds to the ticket-buying public. To this end instructions have gone out to grounds-men that they must prepare pitches accordingly. The result is that most pitches are slow, low tracks - not much fun for any bowler of quality.
The worlds best cricketers are becoming one dimensional clones, just like the pitches they play on. They are losing valuable skills by not playing on a range of surfaces - For crying out loud it even seems to spill over into the post-match interview, such is their robotic like conditioning.Some even argue for uncovered pitches again. Maybe not at the top level, but can we at least give the fast guys something to get their teeth into occasionally and make those flashy, arrogant twerps at the top of the order earn their runs. If he gets through the stage where he wonders whether he is going to get back to the pavillion alive, through courage and skill then he is worthy of his runs.A multitude of fast runs does not always equate to fascinating, absorbing cricket - At least not for everyone.
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March 5th, 2007 by Admin
From Wickman of
Royal Cricket
Wickman is in the mood for a sweeping generalisation. The difference between the minnows and the big boys is the power of the big boys to bounce back when things aren’t going too well.
Look at South Africa today. 66-7. That’s a very deep hole they’ve dug for themselves. A fightback by Hall (60 odd) and Peterson and they scrape 192 together. Not a massive statement granted, but a Houdini-like escape.They’ve probably given themselves more than a fighting chance (it’s halftime in the game). The Irish were probably thinking (Wickman doesn’t do accents)
“This one, gentlemen is in the bag. Just a shame we aren’t pulling this upset off in the tournament proper”.
Now there’s every chance that they will be referred to as “Plucky” tomorrow in the popular news media. Nobody wants to hear that.They’ve probably given themselves more than a fighting chance (it’s halftime in the game). The Irish were probably thinking (Wickman doesn’t do accents) Now there’s every chance that they will be referred to as “Plucky” tomorrow in the popular news media. Nobody wants to hear that.
They’ve probably given themselves more than a fighting chance (it’s halftime in the game). The Irish were probably thinking (Wickman doesn’t do accents) Now there’s every chance that they will be referred to as “Plucky” tomorrow in the popular news media. Nobody wants to hear that.
They’ve probably given themselves more than a fighting chance (it’s halftime in the game). The Irish were probably thinking (Wickman doesn’t do accents) Now there’s every chance that they will be referred to as “Plucky” tomorrow in the popular news media. Nobody wants to hear that.Similarly England weren’t in rude health on a turning wicket at 132-5 and 186-6. Dalrymple’s valuable 70-odd helped haul England to a more than adequate 286. For a moment towards the end of the innings, if you narrowed your eyes a smidge, with Saj and Plunkett giving it some tap, it actually felt like England were on top.
Wickman reckons the problem that the “lesser” sides are going to have is not in getting a few hearts to flutter on some sporty wickets, it will be in closing games down when they’ve got a breakthrough or two. Having said that, Wickman will be glued to the (rather sad) web scorecard on bbc.co.uk to see if our emerald isled neighbours can pull a fast one on the Jaapies…
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February 28th, 2007 by Admin
From Wickman of Royal Cricket
Wickman is looking forward to the World Cup because it’s been ages since he updated his repertoire of joke bowling actions for nets. Whilst still a youngster in the playground Wickman thought nothing of trying to bowl a Proctor (wrong foot), a Thomson (can you get your right hand into your left pocket round your back), a Dilley (drag the back toe so far you go through a couple of pairs of Dunlop Green Flash in a summer playing on the playground)… a Lillee (ball held out in front and pushed and pulled out in front like you were a bull pawing the ground trying to gore the entrails out of some flabby matador) or even the big lolloping run of a Botham, all last minute explosion of shoulder and massively golden arm.One might have a Michael Holding (which essentially necessitated having a lung-bustingly long run-up before trying to knock a kid’s head off ) and you would need to have some spinner or other - because if you couldn’t get turn and bounce with a tennis ball you never would – perhaps Deadly Derek Underwood (there was, of course, in the 1990s Paul Adams, that glorious freak, but if you were caught practicing that by your mum in Bentalls on a Saturday morning while she tried on some dresses she’d have had you in A&E at Kingston in a jiffy thinking you had had a seizure).
In the interim, bar a bit of back garden cricket, Wickman has had few opportunities to study and perfect the art. It’s all very well having some classics up your sleeve, but what of the modern actions? Wickman is worried that so much work has been done by the likes of Troy Cooley and Kevin Shine that there’s nothing left but chest on merchants and one-day-dobbers.
Unless you’ve a double jointed arm / wrist combo of course so you could do a Murali. Or maybe you could practice sticking your tongue out and giving it large in front of the mirror and turn your Proctor into an Andre Nel. And then there is Makhaya Ntini although learning how to rule yourself out of ever winning an appeal for LBW might not be a brilliant idea… Wickman supposes that Brad Hogg does have that slightly mincey way of windmilling his arms and wrists… and there is old Malinga the Slinga… but who else? What fun is it to watch McGrath twinkle up the wicket? Or Flintoff? Or Taylor? Or…
Bring back Bob Willis. Frankly he’d be better that side of the camera. Stick him in the England squad, stick an Andrew Symonds wig on him and get him to hare in off that long run, alternately tucking the ball behind his back and showing it to the batsman before arriving at the crease and slinging in a massive bouncer… cor if that didn’t take you back to 1981 nothing would.
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