Swinging in the Rain

I pick up the ball up and walk slowly back to my mark, muttering to myself about concentration and line and length. I run in to bowl, leap into my delivery stride, as I let go of the ball I grunt like a bear being kicked in the nuts by man wearing concrete shoes, then, joy of joys, the ball swings venomously into the base of leg stump, knocking all three stumps flat on to the ground. Now, you are probably thinking to yourself, how is it possible to knock all three stumps out of the ground with one delivery and you’d be right to. The reason is that these are a set of spring-loaded practice stumps and the event just described was not part of some last gasp victory or brilliant opening salvo. It was in fact last Thursday evening, in the drizzle, where I’d stayed behind after nets to give myself a good talking to and some remedial bowling practice.
Sadly, I’ve not been engaged in any competitive cricket this week. There was no game on Sunday and even if there had been it would have been rained off and I was surplus to requirements, in the same way that a banjo would be surplus to requirements during medieval siege warfare, for the match on Saturday. The upside of this was that I did get to spend most of my weekend and the bank holiday watching England splutter their way to victory over New Zealand. The really annoying thing is that I missed Monty’s six-fer. It is always the way isn’t it? You pop out for half an hour to run an errand or two and you miss all the bloody action. Although it’s still preferable to what normally happens with England; you leave the room to answer the phone, only to return two minutes later, to discover that some one-eyed, part-time off-spinner has just sliced through England’s middle order like a chainsaw through jelly.
Ah yes, England’s middle order. Were it not for Mr Panesar’s wizardry, England could have easily been left chasing 400+, which they almost certainly wouldn’t have got and they wouldn’t have got it because Pietersen, Bell and Collingwood would all have been required to make a contribution beyond having the scorer write their names down. There is, as always, the talent there, but no application. It is all very well talking the talk in an interview, but extensive media training is of limited use out in the middle. I’m being slightly unfair to Collingwood, the man is utterly, utterly out of form. His 24 not out was actually a very gritty and determined effort, even if he did look like he needed reminding occasionally what sport it was that he was playing. Hopefully he can do a Strauss, who is all of a sudden playing quite beautifully, and regain some form before the Saffers arrive, because if the middle order don’t fire, England are going to get murdered. As for Kevin Pietersen, he deserves a good slapping for running himself out quite so idiotically. It’s all very well him marching off the field effing and blinding and then being a bit sulky for the cameras as he sits quietly fuming on the balcony, but if he engaged whatever brain he has between his ears with a little more enthusiasm, he might not have got himself into such a position in the first place. Stupid boy.
In many ways England’s performance had a number of plus points, turning around what seemed like a hopeless situation on Sunday morning to a victory on Monday afternoon is a remarkable achievement – almost Australian-like, but just like coming back from 1-0 down in New Zealand to win 2-1 was also impressive, England should not have had such a hole out of which to dig themselves. What’s to do? Personally, I would offer up Ian Bell as a sort of sacrificial lamb. Drop him, he’s got bags of talent and would easily force his way back into the side at some point, just so the other batsmen actually fear for their places in the team, which would hopefully result in a little more application and a little less flakiness. In all honesty that is probably not the best solution, but Peter Moores has to do something to galvanise his troops. We’ll have to see what happens at Trent Bridge next week; cricketers are always talking about momentum, let’s see if England can find some.

In the glamorous and celebrity driven world of county cricket, the Friends Provident Trophy lurches towards the knock out stages, I’ve long since stopped caring, and anyway, Warwickshire didn’t seem to care in the first place, which reminds me, Ireland! We lost to fucking IRELAND!!!!!! I wouldn’t bet on them to beat a decent school team let alone a county side!
As you can see, I still haven’t quite got over the events of 16/05...
In other Warwickshire news, it has been announced that Sanath Jayasuriya is no longer available for the Twenty20 Cup, because the Sri Lankan sports minister (I’m not making this up) insisted he be included in the squad for the Asia Cup. You see, if only Tessa Jowell had stood up in parliament and demanded Monty’s inclusion in the starting XI for the first test of the 06/07 Ashes, it could have all been so different. Anyway, the Bears are now on the hunt for a replacement. How about Adam Gilchrist? I’m sure his diary will be pretty empty after the IPL finishes. Although, I suspect the cash on offer from Warwickshire might look a bit feeble compared to the riches doled out by the IPL. “So Gilly, how’s about it? 20 quid a game with a free can of Marston’s and a pie from the members bar if we win?” It’s not going to happen, is it?
In the County Championship, Nottinghamshire are sitting pretty at the top of the first division and by some Faustian pact, Warwickshire are still top of division 2! Essex and Glamorgan are the main threat as they both have a game in hand and are very much within touching distance points-wise. However, the Bears play Gloucestershire on Friday, who are rooted to the bottom of the table, so with the weather apparently improving later in the week, I am full of confidence that they can be dispatched with consummate ease. (I might regret writing that...)

Back in my own world of cricketing mediocrity, I have decided to convert from the most medium of medium pacers, to an off-spinner. Sure, I can run in fast, but actually propelling the ball with any spite is simply beyond my arms, legs and shoulders. At present, my attempts at off-spin are rather closer to lob-bowling, but, at nets whilst attempting a bit of tweakery, I did bowl someone behind their legs and I only had to fetch my ball from the golf course once. (Believe me, that is an achievement if not a miracle.) On the batting front, things are progressing. Some impromptu coaching from a man who plays for the MCC and the first XI skipper has helped. Apparently my pick up and stance is “excellent for someone who has only been playing for a year”. I am taking that at face value and not interpreting it as “but shit for anyone who knows the first fucking thing about cricket”. Once I get my feet moving, I am perfectly capable of playing some actually quite nice drives and cuts, but am still prone to having a feet-in-treacle mow at the ball all too often.
Come the game on Sunday, we’ll see where I’m really at.

A positive attitude may not solve all your problems, but it will annoy enough people to make it worth the effort.

First of the Summer Wides

Whilst the climate in Britain may ensure that we aren’t battered by tornadoes, hurricanes or anything else similarly horrific, summer is rather brief and therefore opportunities to play the summer game are somewhat limited. So on Sunday just past, I was delighted to play my first game of cricket for 7 months. And it was a triumph, of sorts.
I have actually only being playing cricket for a year, despite having been an avid enthusiast since I was a nipper. Cricket wasn’t really played at my school, I can only remember playing it a few times in P.E. lessons. Whereas the football-morons of course, got to play all year round. Anyhow, last year, having reached the grand old age of 25, and not undertaken any sort of physical exercise in the previous 9 years, since my last P.E. lesson, in fact, I decided that rather than sitting in the pub moaning about this that and the other about cricket and cricketers, I would get out there and prove, should anyone ask, that in fact, no, I couldn’t do any better.
So last May I dropped an email to the captain of a local team asking for a game or two. I was, I must confess, what you might call 'economical' with the truth. I told him that I hadn’t played since school, which was true, but didn’t let on that I hadn’t ever actually played a proper game either.
So first up, I play against some team that have amongst their ranks a youth player from Worcestershire CCC, I am slightly incensed by this. Cricket is a delicate game, insomuch as when one side is markedly better than another, it can make for an immensely tedious afternoon fetching balls from distant fields. You can probably see what’s coming, can’t you? In 45 overs we are put to the sword to the tune of 400+ runs. The young tyke, who looks like he still has stabilisers on his bicycle, scores an almost faultless 150. I field reasonably well but don’t bowl. Amazingly, I’m sent into to bat at 10, rather than 11 as I would have expected. More amazingly I get off the mark first ball, squeezing the ball down to fine-leg, but I’m not done there, a further single follows shortly afterwards, before the chap at the other end is out LBW. Now, I appreciate that you are probably thinking 2 not out is not a very impressive score, and you’d be right, (unless you’re Chris Martin, in which case you’d be buying the beers after the game and possibly making a speech or two), but up until this moment, I had never faced any ‘proper’ bowling, never played on a real wicket or worn batting gloves or pads. We were eventually skittled out for about 170, everyone looked at little shell-shocked, but not me, I was happy as happy could be.
By the end of the season I’d played 8 games, with a top score of 9 not out, at an average of 4.3. This wasn’t too bad for a first attempt, I thought, mainly because, I had invariably batted at 10 or 11 so never got much of a chance, hence a number of not outs. As for bowling, I once had a terrible anxiety dream about bowling on the first day of a test match, sending down wide after wide after wide, with 100,000 Australians baying for my blood. I’ve called it the ‘Steve Harmison dream’. With that in mind, I declined to bowl. This season however, I’ve taken the plunge and actually bowled in a match, very badly it must be said, but I do have a bowling average, having taken 2 wickets for 30 runs. I did however, only bowl 3 overs and conceded about 10 wides, I swear I bowled 9 balls in one over and was starting to wish that the ground would swallow me up, but then, against the run of play, (probably more against the run of play than any other event in history to be honest) I took a wicket! A simple catch to square leg, followed a few balls and a fistful of wides later, by a second wicket in the same place. “That’ll teach you for trying to slap me over mid-wicket you bastard” I wanted to say, sadly, the standard of my bowling is so very, very low, that any attempt at sledging the opposition would be utterly farcical, so I gracefully and gratefully received the congratulations, disbelief and sarcasm of my team mates instead.
My skipper for the day, a wonderfully avuncular character in his 50's, was most encouraging, “every week now you have to bowl” he said, “keep practising and you’ll be fine” and so on. I may be quite useless at bowling, but I can be very determined when I want to be. I’ll keep you updated on my progress.
The opposition scored 220 in their 40 overs, which we chased down quite easily in the end, despite being 100-5 at one point. The skipper and a chap who normally plays in the Birmingham Premier League, which is completely different from renting some county youth player, no it is, I promise you, flayed the bowling to all parts. The highlight of the day came right at the end. The ringer from the Premier League was on 98 with the scores tied. The captain at the other end blocked out an entire over, including running 2 meters outside leg stump to defend a ball that was so wide as to have nearly been a legitimate delivery on the adjacent wicket, just to give the young man a chance of his ton, which of course he got, thrashing a four down to cow-corner off the 2nd ball of the next over. My batting skills weren’t required, apart from to knock my mate Dave’s beer over, whilst he provided me with some throw-downs, which he wasn’t best pleased about, but there is always next week to test my prowess with the willow.

In the rest of the cricket world, the rain prevented a result in the first test at Lord’s and Warwickshire, I’m almost in tears writing this, lost to Ireland, that is IRELAND!!!!! In the FP Trophy, a competition in which Ireland haven’t won a game since it was the C&G Trophy, about 3 years ago. The Bears have since beaten Notts, but their chances of progressing in the FP Trophy are somewhere near zero, just next to bugger all.
The IPL is still going, a lack of Sentanta Sports prevents me from following too closely, but as far as I can tell, the Mumbai Muthafuckers, or whatever they are called are the team to beat – whoopie...

The visionary lies to himself, the liar only to others.

Batting Begins

If I might start with an apology – I may have given the impression that I was somewhat lacking in faith as far as Warwickshire County Cricket Club’s chances of regaining their rightful position at the top-table of English cricket. But with a 6 from Ian Salisbury (age 94) off the penultimate ball against Northants last week, to win a game that I was so confident was going to be a draw, I turned off ceefax and went out to buy a shiny new batting helmet, only to check it was a draw some time later but finding only victory, I think the Bears might be in with a chance of promotion. Just so long as the team of wet fish that shuffled off the field against Worcestershire the other week, don’t reappear (or should that be resurface?) Sadly, nothing is ever that straight forward for Warwickshire. As soon as the players start looking the business in 4-day cricket, they start playing like a bunch of geriatrics in the Friends Provident Trophy. I went to the rain-reduced affair at Edgbaston against Leicestershire. Reduced to 23-overs-a-side, the Foxes posted a very meagre 148. Now, logic may not be my strong point, but if in 20 over cricket, teams easily post 160-180, in 23 overs, 148 is a fairly piss-poor effort. So when Carter and Maddy come swaggering out of the pavilion, I’m thinking, this is going to be easy. Of course the punch-line here is that it was nothing of the sort. Less the Warwickshire Bears more the Warwickshire roll-over-and-tickle-my-tummy-pussy-cats. Feebly bowled out for 103, I was left head-in-hands, muttering darkly about taking an active interest in fishing. If you play well and lose, fair enough, but to capitulate to a not that impressive Leicestershire quite so lamely, is just a bit embarrassing. I wouldn’t normally condone jeering your own team, but on this occasion, the chants of ‘what a load of rubbish’ echoing around Edgbaston, were more than justified. (As was the assessment of the old duffer I was sitting next to – ‘fucking useless’ he said. ‘Quite’ I replied.)Then, just as things can’t get any worse, they do. After holding on for a draw at Derbyshire, and going to the top of LVCC Division 2, Warwickshire’s FP Trophy ‘campaign’ disintegrates further, this time at the hands of Northants. Apart from a timely ton from Trott and a 3 wicket burst from the in form Carter, there was nothing from the batting again and the bowling was hardly setting the world alight. Trott’s 120 was a better effort than all the others put together (120 plays 92, just for the record), in fact, Mr Extras put down 20 runs to be joint 2nd in the runs department, which rather says it all.

The 1st nPower test kicks off on Thursday this week. The selectors have some decisions to make, but with Flintoff doing his side in, the trickiest one has been put on ice for a few weeks, at least. Were it up to me, and it is English cricket’s loss that it isn’t, I’d probably go for the following:

Strauss
Cook
Vaughan
Pietersen
Collingwood
Bell
Ambrose
Broad
Sidebottom
Hoggard
Panesar

Which, as always, looks great on paper, but will probably fail to deliver in reality.

The Flintoff conundrum is an interesting one. He clearly has no form with the bat. In the Lancs/Durham game last week, he face 6 balls and scored precisely 0 runs, but bowled 22 overs, conceding just 42 runs and taking 7 wickets. He was, apparently unplayable at times. He would waltz into any team in the world as a bowler but couldn’t bribe a game with the under-12’s as a batsman. His fitness is unknown and if he breaks down on the first morning of a test match and England are playing him as one of four bowlers, they would be well and truly buggered. I think they need to leave him at Lancashire, to genuinely prove his fitness and try and regain some form with the bat, or at least remember which end to hold. Then, unleash him on the Saffers later in the summer, but leaving the selectors with a real headache, who’s place does he take?

Peace.