Outside The Line

The Mohali Test In A Series Of Barely Relevant Ad Hominem Attacks

- Irony in a nutshell: Cameron White getting thoroughly deceived and bowled by the only legspinner's delivery he actually knows how to bowl, the wrong'un.

- Even though he must be an emeritus fellow at the Ian Healy Look'n'Actalike Academy, there's something Brad Haddin still hasn't learned from the venerable old Queenslander... how to appeal. I'd say that, regardless of the bowling attack, Australia will always have about 8.3% less decisions go their way whenever Haddin's behind the stumps. He just doesn't know how to sell it. (Remember, B-Had... coffee's for closers.)

- Prediction: India's Big 4 will fade out in the same order as their hairlines. First it'll be Ganguly, then Laxman, then Dravid, and finally Tendulkar. (It's a good thing Sehwag gets triple-centuries on a regular basis, otherwise he would've been the first to go.)

- Congratulations to Peter Siddle, for winning the Steve Waugh memorial "White Guy Whose  Face Is Really Not Evolutionarily Designed To Be Out In The Sun All Day And Now, After Years Spent Playing Sports Outdoors, Has Contorted Itself Into Really Odd, Unappealing Shapes" Award. Well done, sir. A worthy winner.

- Is Virender Sehwag's existence predicated on the idea of nullifying every easy Western stereotype about Indian cricketers? Is he there to make sure Sourav Ganguly and Gautam Gambhir can throw away their wickets as selfishly and stupidly as they wish after reaching a hundred, and yet the squad will never get into collective trouble for it?

- Other than Chris Rock's latest HBO show, the funniest thing so far in 2008 (if only cricket would grasp the concept of online highlights, you'd see what I mean):

62.3    White to Tendulkar, 5 wides, another gift, White tries to fire it in flat and quick but he misdirects it to where legslip would have stood, yes it was that wide, nobody was going to stop that.

5 Points On A Pointless Test

                        

Hmm... so I guess it's going to be one of those series, huh? One down, three to go, and not a single person out there has any idea which one of these teams is going to win. (Even the markets agree... the odds for the 2nd Test are equal at 9/4)

Did we learn anything from the first Test? A little, sure, but not necessarily what we wanted to know. In a way, every point made about it is pointless, since we have no idea whether it's part of a trend, or just an odd outlier. Either way, a few things still struck the eye:

• Mitchell Johnson looks like either a cockatoo, or a feather duster. Not sure which. I'd say the eyes give him the facial expressiveness of the former, but everything else suggests he might have the personality of the latter.

• I don't know if I'll ever get used to the fact that, in little more than a year, the Australian spin mantle has somehow passed from Shane Warne to Michael Clarke. Has there ever been a more dramatic reversal in the capabilities of a team's bowling department? (And yes, I did say Michael Clarke, not his tousle-haired retarded cousin, who'll probably get dropped in a week. Clarke bowled more overs, got more wickets, and had a lower economy rate than White in India. I'd say that makes him the frontline spinner now, doesn't it?).


• So it's settled, then... India have no chance of winning a Test match these days unless Virender Sehwag fires early, right?

• Look into the Australians' eyes, not even that deeply, and you'll see something you'd never have seen before. The Fear. I won't go all HST on you and describe it in psychotropic/biblical detail for the next 1,200 words, but it's definitely there, and they are not used to it. (Did you think you'd ever see the day when an Australian opener would plod along to 34 off 140 balls on the fourth day after his team secured a first-innings lead?)


• Not that it matters, since the Indians will match fear for fear with the best of them (and then might even add a little cultural anxiety, multi-personal insecurity and generation-deep chokeability to the mix).
  
  It's hard to overlook the fact that, though this may turn out to be the most exciting Test series we've seen in yonks, it still involves two very flawed, weakened teams. Neither of them is playing at their best, with most of their members uncertain about their spots and the team's direction in the future. This probably won't reduce the drama, but it might offset the pure aesthetic quality of the series as a whole.

What, me care? (Celine Dion All-Stars v. Jack Johnson XI)

 

                                                                

Yesterday, the most anticipated Test cricket series of the year began in Bangalore, between India and Australia. For the next few weeks, all the action will converge, all the attention will focus, and even begrudging observers will be forced to take a peek now and then. (I use my dad as the barometer of public interest in cricket in Australia. He's not much a fan of the game -- though he does love to walk around the house loudly baritoning the word "Tendulkar" over and over like a mantra --  so I know that when he starts mentioning cricket in casual conversation, it has caught the grip of the masses.)

So why is all this attention placed on this series? What is riding on it? Is it actually important, objectively significant in some way, or is it just noteworthy because the only alternative at the moment is an ODI contractual obligation series between New Zealand and Bangladesh. There might be plenty reasons to watch the Border-Gavaskar trophy, but are there reasons to care?

To answer that question, we need to divide it into smaller sub-questions:

Why do we care?
1st-placed team in the world vs. 3rd-placed team... economic hegemon vs. on-field hegemon... white vs. brown... spin vs. pace... weeds vs. monkeys, etc. The storylines may be a little hackneyed and blunt, but they work. It's easy to sell them and put them into kinetic, bite-sized snippets for cable TV promos.

The Ashes, as a contrast, survives as an institution and a product because it stands on the massively inflated foundation of tradition. It doesn't have to sell itself because it's already so enmeshed into the identity of cricket. Without the Ashes, there's no cricket. Simple as that.

The India v Australia bilateral is different. It needs characters and narratives. It needs farewell tours, career reversals, and on-field controversy. A few of those factors are around this time, but not all. (To any series, for example you can simply add "Shane Warne" as a subplot and it would, by rule, become more interesting.)

Why should we care?
This is a harder question to answer.  There is no finality to either result -- neither an Indian nor an Australian victory would prove much about the future. The balance of power won't really be affected since it is, after all, on the balance. It could go either way. But we won't know in which direction it's headed, and this series isn't going to illuminate it. India have chosen a nostalgia squad, and we won't learn much from whatever they achieve in the next few weeks.

What this series will probably measure, however, is the chance Test cricket as a while has of surviving (and thriving) in the future.

It's no secret that, in international cricket, as India goes, so does the world. (Allen Stanford may slingshot away his millions from his Caribbean lair, but he will never be able to compete with the burgeoning economy of an entire country.) Therefore, if Test cricket wants to prosper in the age of Twenty20, it needs to be driven by its popularity in India. And there's no single way to make a sport more popular in a country than by having that country win consistently at the highest level.

This series will show us how serious India can be about the Test game. They have a great chance to really hurt Australia this time, and knock them down yet another peg in the post-Evil Empire era. It's not a good sign, however, that even if they do win, it will be with yesterday's players, not tomorrow's. (More on that later.)

Will Australia care?
We know that the Australian players will, and we know the management probably will, but what about the fans? After the mass exodus of the Warne generation, it's hard to predict how much the Australian public will care about cricket for a while.

The national team has lost a few of its stalwarts -- the Gillys, McGraths and Warnes -- and the ones that are left -- the Pontings, Haydens, etc. -- are not really types to capture the public imagination. They're efficient, and admired, but they're not iconic. All we're left with is a bunch of very disciplined professionals with boring-as-batshit personalities. A team full of cricketing Jack Johnsons, if you will. (One of them ain't even trying to hide it.)

Will Australians tune in for that? Is there any point for them? After winning big for two decades, will anyone care about an Australian XI losing with dignity, or winning ugly, half a world away? I get the feeling that the Aussie fans may have gotten spoiled by too much dominance. There are plenty of other things to watch on Foxtel between 2 and 9 PM in the afternoon, after all.

Will India care?
Now here's the vital question. Will the local fans show up? And will they do so consistently, to watch the cricket, and not just to celebrate inspirational milestones from over-the-hill legends?

The crowd on the first two days at Bangalore looked incredibly sparse. And while that's somewhat understandable given that the Australians won the toss and batted (on a pair of weekdays) it's hard not to compare the scenario with, say, the first night of the IPL. On that occasion, we saw packed stands, fireworks, Bollywood starlets dropping down from helicopters, etc. As far as pure spectacle goes, Test cricket in India still seems to be far down on the totem pole. And we really can't afford it to be.

There is no way to stress this enough: if Test cricket wants to stay afloat, it needs to bring India (and the Indian public) onboard fully. There is a vested interest for just about all concerned in seeing India at, or at least near, the top of the Test ladder.

The problem is that the Indian leadership is not really building for an extended period of dominance. Take a look at the squad they pettled out for this series... you might be wondering if you had stepped back into 2003. I know that the symbolic attachment to the old-timers is too strong to let go, but the country will never get beyond where they are right now while riding a dying generation. The Big 4 have done an immeasurable service to Indian cricket, no doubt, but let's not pretend they're even a Big 4 anymore -- more like a Moderately-Sized 2.5.

I mean, Sourav Ganguly? That's what they're giving us, in 2008? Are you fucking kidding me?

You know what the sad thing is? We've already seen the future of Indian cricket, and it's bright.

Unfortunately, the future was a week ago, and no one was watching.

The Indian Board President's XI faced the Australians in Hyderabad and outplayed them comprehensively in a 4-day draw. This was virtually a full Australian XI, and they got spanked by a bunch of barely-capped young'uns with a lot of hunger and little experience.

Sadly, we're not getting to see any of that. All we'll get is another exhibition of the fading skills of yesterday's heroes.. (I can't say I really fault them completely. I too would love to see Tendulkar get those 77 runs, and to watch Kumble claim another match-winning bag after everyone doubted/ignored him, and maybe even to catch the magic of another Laxman-Dravid special, just for old time's sake.)

But surely, the party must end at some point. No one this side of Celine Dion has extended a farewell tour for longer than the Indian Test team.

Until it ends, it becomes awfully hard to care. Even for those of use who really do.

 

Meanwhile, Oceans Away

It may not have been that obvious while the IPL was in full flow, but Outside the Line was also following the action from the rest of the cricket world. (Yes, we don't just ignore everything we don't like, cover our ears, and pretend it doesn't exist. You listening, English blogs?) Here are some random thoughts:

• I can't say I'm ecstatic about another set of interminable, lopsided one-day series, but okay, fine... it's clear that the corporates and the pushers paid they cash in advance and they won't rest until they squeeze every second of available ad time out of their investment. I get it.
     
  But as long as we're just playing out the clock till the FTP is finally over in 2011, why not use the time to experiment a little? Someone has the right idea...

• Congratulations to the English team, by the way, for taking three-and-a-half years and 72 games to realise their best batsman should be batting at no. 3. Well done, guys.

• After having to withstand the likes of Aamer Sohail and Greg Chappell on a daily basis -- and coming close to shoving a lawn dart in my ear a few times just to make them stop -- it's nice to hear proper commentators again, as I found out while checking out some highlights from the Sky telecast of the England v . New Zealand series.
     
  The Sky team have definitely got their flaws, but at least they can get the little things right... you know, like "conjugation" and "subject/verb agreement". You come to miss those after a while.
      
  
• Jumping oceans (and continents), re: the Australia v West Indies Test series, we're now just a few hours away from finding out how badly the Australian empire has crumbled in the year since McWarne retired. The mere fact that the series outcome is still up in the air on the fifth day of the last Test is already an ominous sign .
     
  I haven't had a chance to watch any of the action, but I like what I've read... top-order collapses, dropped catches, opponents brimming with confidence. Very unlike the Evil Empire, and still music to my ears. Even if they eventually come out with another buzz-killing victory, anytime they're forced to mouth the words, "Thank god Simon Katich was at the crease", you know things haven't gone quite as planned.
     
  
• Memo to Dwayne Bravo:
     
  This is it, brother. Your time. You say you're for real? You say you're more than just a fielding allrounder? Well, here's your chance. Prove it.
     
  Champions get centuries, on fifth day pitches, to set fourth-innings chase records. Shiv did it once. Ask him about it sometime. (Maybe as you stroll out to the crease with him?)
     
  Sure, you could keep cruising on those forceful 40s, the 3-wicket hauls, and the killer smile. But we both know you're worth more than that. You're a kinesthetic freak -- anyone who's seen you merely jumping to catch the ball in the field can attest to that. You're practically the reason why super slo-mo was invented.
     
  Time to step it up, D.
  
  

How About We Just Pick Captains Again And Start Over?

So is this what the future holds for international cricket? 30-year-old Australian players who could never get a game for their own country moving to bottom-of-the-table teams just to get internationals? Will we soon see David Hussey anchoring the middle order for Bangladesh, or Matthew Inness opening the bowling for Zimbabwe?

My favourite bit from the interview -- with Brendan Nash, the ex-Queensland batsman now trying to get into the West Indies team -- was his answer to this question:

What are the major differences between Australian and West Indian cricket?
The on-field stuff like the lack of facilities to train or play on. The culture is also a lot more laid-back...

Yeah, you know, that "on-field stuff"... as in, actually having a field on which to play.Yeah, that one might be the biggie. In Australia, they have that. In the West Indies, they don't. Gee, I wonder which of the team has been doing better recently?

And does this mean we are headed for a world where Australia play Australia A and Australia B to see who's best in the world? Ugh. Should I just go back to sleep for a half-decade or so?

(But hey, if it makes the West Indies relevant again, bring on the Aussies, I say! Isn't Shane Warne available again? Shit, where's Allen Stanford and his money when you need them?)

Graeme Smith WILL Make You Hate The 9th, No Doubt About It

                

And so it happened, with barely so much as a whimper, let alone a bang. The event this site has practically been built around, from its very inception. The crowning glory of a year of blogging (and many more years of unofficial, but still unwavering, hatred and antipathy).

Australia are no longer big dogs. WOO HOO!!!!! YEEEEAAA MO'FUCKA!!!!!!! If we could actually afford champagne, the sound of popping corks would still be echoing across the entire antipodean continent ever since the day of the second final at the Gabba. Sure, Australia are still good. They'll probably continue to be very good for a long time. They'll be on or around the top of the ladder, never giving an inch, strong at home, competitive on the road, with a half dozen scary players who could still haunt your dreams and destroy all hopes. But they won't be AUSTRALIA anymore. They days of "The Mighty Australia" are over  -- now they're just another plodding, overgrown, graceless local power. (South Africa without the mental baggage, if you will.)

So what does that mean for Outside The Line? Should we fold up shop? Our basic predictions have essentially been confirmed... Australia's extreme dominance throughout the past decade really was due to the freakish occurrence of having three once-in-a-generation players (Warne, McGrath, Gilchrist) in the same team, with the addition of few overachieving left-handers and a culture of professionalism and competitive ruthlessness filling in the gaps. Of course, it would've been nice if their fall had been sudden and meteoric; if one loss (say, in the 2007 World Cup final) had triggered a chain reaction of blame, recrimination, and player after player being made to walk the plank into instant retirement and ultimate oblivion.

But cricket doesn't work like that. The days are long, the sessions are slow, and even revolutions proceed at the speed of molasses. But they still happen, as the IPL is bound to show everyone in a couple of months. And thank god for that. The sport needs it -- hell, this site needs it. Anyone who doesn't agree with that -- at least to some extent -- should be strapped down like Alex DeLarge, head clamp and scapula in place, and made to watch the current South Africa v. Bangladesh series on a loop for a couple of weeks or so.

At Least They'll Have To Roll Doubles Or Pay $50 From Now On

                 
 

It’s not often that we at Outside The Line have kind words to say about an Australian player. It's nothing personal, really. They might all be very nice people in real life. Brad Hogg may well care for third-world slum urchins in his spare time, and Ricky Ponting could conceivably be a thoroughly cool, informed, funny person -- who reads, and thinks, and likes good music, and watches The Wire, and can sprinkle pithy Omar quotes into conversation -- and yet, in our eyes, he will never stop looking like an annoying cockhead who needs to either get out next ball or else get hit square in the nose by an errant slog shot. Australia’s parts are, for better or worse, defined by its whole -- and by this point, the whole has become so contemptible that it’s almost impossible for any individuals within it to remain likeable.

Which is what makes our utter lack of antipathy towards Adam Gilchrist, who announced his retirement last week, somewhat surprising. I mean, if anyone in that squad has come to represent Australia’s brutal dominance throughout this decade, it’s Gilly. During his 9-year, 96-Test tenure, Australia only lost 11 times. Right after his debut, Australia went on an 15-game winning streak. Right before his retirement, Australia had completed a 16-game winning streak.

Gilchrist is not only the symbol of Australia’s über-dominance, but its very embodiment -- he is tall, strong, fit, disciplined, tough-minded, well-coached, etc. He preys on weakness and feasts on indecision, reducing many worthy contests to muscle-flexing sessions at the crease. And he comes at you, again and again, like a lab-made prototype from Soviet days, time after time after time.

But if that’s all there was to him, as a player and a character, we could just dub him “Matthew Hayden 2.0” and move right along. But it’s not. Combined with the sleek robotic jockness of the modern Aussie athlete there was always a certain geeky exuberance to Gilly's game -- a bright-eyed sense of wonder and excitement simply about being out there, in front of the cameras and the lights, competing with the best. It’s hard to imagine Gilchrist anywhere but on a cricket field… I bet he even makes love with his pads on.

That exuberance never left him, allowing his batting to always remain youthful and instinctive. He never seemed to "mature" as a batsman, or slow down with age. He understood the value of his approach, and the psychological effect his presence produced, not only on his opponents, but on his own teammates. I could never prove this, of course, but I bet that Gilchrist coming in to bat at no.7 increased Damien Martyn's average by at least 5 runs. Every middle-order batsman in the Australian lineup batted more freely, and with a clearer mind, because they knew Gilly had their back. He was like a Get-Out-Of-Jail-Free card, and the Australians were never afraid to use it.

I doubt we'll see his kind again. I doubt we'll ever see a face as intense or a look as fierce as the one presented when he was at the crease; you'd think he was chewing on barb wire as he stood to face every delivery. Nor will we see someone hit the ball as hard while holding the bat so precariously near the top on the handle as Gilchrist did. (How the bat never went flying from his hands after a wild swing is a question worthy of a paranormalist by this point.) I'm glad we'll never see that again -- but at the same time, and as much as it pains me to say it, I'm kind of glad we got to see it in the first place.
 

As Good As Wigs And Catchphrases, But A Win's A Win

                           

This is probably a sign of how bleak and grey things looked in the cricket world: last week, on the eve of the third Test match between Australia and India --€“ a crucial match from a still-competitive series, already full of controversy and tension, between arguably the two most popular teams in the world at the momeny -- the entire Outside The Line brains trust chose to go road tripping and camping by the beach, rather than staying at home, following the action on TV, and writing about it.

It wasn'€™t that we didn'€™t care about the outcome of the series (we did), or that our continual wish to see Australia derailed from its record-breaking tracks had somehow abated (it hadn'€™t). It was more an act of protest. (Against what, we'€™re not exactly sure. Against Australia and the arrogance of incumbency. Against the subjective dogmatism and hubris of modern umpiring. Against bigotry as the refuge of the hack. Against bullying tactics and high school jock ethics. Against business as usual.)

Regardless of our original plans, we still ended up following most the action in some form or another: radio updates as we played poker inside the tent, selective portions of inspired Indian batting on the widescreen of the nearby pub, cricinfo reports, etc. Cricket seems to permeate the air of coastal Australia in the summer, and even if you go out of your way to avoid it, you still can't stop yourself from absorbing some of it: 

• We couldn'€™t help but notice, for example, how seriously Stuart Clark is taking the "New McGrath" moniker these days --€“ shaking his head on the way back to his mark after every delivery, trying to stare batsmen down on his follow-through, always looking awkward and out of place in post-wicket celebrations, etc.

• The first three wickets of the Australian innings: three left-handed batsmen being dismissed by two left-handed Indian bowlers. Given that only between 7-10 % of the population as a whole is left-handed, that series of dismissals must represent either a freakish statistical oddity... or the future of world cricket.
  
  It's no secret that left-handers have dominated the batting scene for the last decade. In the past few years, however, we'€™ve also seen a lot of southpaw bowlers rising in the ranks. Except for the West Indies, every major international team nowadays includes at least one left-arm bowler. Three teams (Australia, India, England) include two left-armers on a regular basis. One team, Bangladesh, is often seen going in with three lefties in their lineup (as well as a few part-time left-arm spinners). It's clear that a lot of those players are not "natural" left-handers, but instead developed their skills with practice and at some point discovered the untapped potential of left-arm bowling in a landscape dominated by left-handed batters with iffy techniques. As such, expect the trend to continue.
  
  
• At one point, my friend Geot referred to Shaun Tait as “lumbersome,” which I’m pretty sure is not a real word, but somehow seems remarkably accurate in his case.
  
  
• Before any Indian fans get ahead of themselves, and start believing that their team's spirited fightback in this series is a harbinger of great times to come, may I just remind them that for most of last week's (and probably this week's) Test match, India had Virender Sehwag standing at point in the field. Sehwag! You're building a dynasty on that foundation? As Ricky Gervais' alter-alter-alter-ego, Mr. Stokes from When The Whistle Blows, would say, "Are you 'aving a laff?!?!"
  
  

Heraclitus To Hillary, And Everything In Between

There seem to be as many cable news channels as there are sports channels, so in between all the cricket this weekend, I caught some of the coverage on the recent campaigning and debates in the US presidential race. The Republican side, chock-full of belligerent whackos and schmaltzy panderers, is a lot more interesting to watch (for the freakshow factor), but this time I was caught by a theme on which all the Democrat candidates seemed to focus – change. The idea of change, the nature of change, who the most efficient agents of change would be, etc.

It made me think of Heraclitus and his theory of constant flux. Sometimes it seems as if the lack of permanence is all that is real in this world; as if everywhere you look, all you can see is change:

• Brisbane, e.g., has greeted me with an entire week of grey, rainy days -- I don’t know what to do with myself. If it wasn’t for the mosquitoes, the constant traffic on the streets and the creepy procession of shirtless joggers by the river, I’d think I was still in Dunedin.

• Just wondering…when did Rahul Dravid become Aakash Chopra?

• The emergence of Brad Hogg as the new anti-hero of the masses is just about the only positive I could gather from the first couple of Tests. He truly is a repulsive creature. I was a little concerned, after Glenn McGrath’s retirement and the post-World Cup player exodus, that there’d be no truly odious player left in the Australian team -- no one to affect you on a visceral level, keep you glued to the screen and force you to truly hate, with every fibre of your being. The weights-room eunuchs and statistical oddities of the new generation -- the Michael Hussey’s and Stuart Clark’s -- could never do that for you. You need someone special; someone working at a whole different level of repugnance.
  
  Enter GB Hogg. From the tongue, to the puffed-out chest, to the rodent face, to the forced jocularity on the field, to the Left-Arm-Grubber approach to spin bowling, Hogg seems almost designed to make your bile rise and get you screaming abuse at your TV as yet another wicket falls to his name. It’s a shame he’s so old already, because I could see him fueling my hating fantasies for years to come.

• I wasn’t fully aware of this, but it seems that the Australian cricket team is quickly morphing into some sort of talent agency/marketing firm/touring entertainment troupe. Every ad throughout the game’s coverage on TV involved some combination of Australian cricketers looking discomfited and acting wooden, selling everything from mobiles phones and utility trucks to fizzy drinks and chicken sandwiches. I’d call the whole bunch of them cheap whores, but that would be an insult to dedicated sex workers everywhere.
  
  (As far as unintentional comedy goes, however, you can’t go past the ad for Wolf Blass wines, where Stuart McGill, Mike Hussey, and Brad Hodge are standing  inside something that looks like either the set of a ski lodge from a bad 1980s teen movie or the underground lair of the cheapest Bond villain in history. All three of them are wearing tuxedos, and appear to be in somewhat of a festive mood; but there are no girls around, no music, and all they seem to be doing is sipping chardonnay and complimenting each other on particular highlights in their careers. It couldn’t look any gayer if Rufus Wainwright was sitting at a piano in the corner, playing a selection of Broadway showtunes.)

But what cricket this week has also shown us is that, all things considered, Heraclitus and the Democrats were wrong. All is not change, and change is not all. Some things are just bound to stay the same:

• He’s been away from the international scene for about 4 years, but it’s nice to see that Neil McKenzie still looks as awkward, uncomfortable and unreliable at the crease as always. He’s like the anti-Steve Waugh – a man you would NEVER trust to bat for your life. And yet he remains strangely endearing, with that furrowed muppet face of his, and the collection of nervous tics and idiosyncrasies.

• And speaking of idiosyncrasies … when all is said and done, I think there’s a good chance Shiv Chanderpaul might end up as one of the top-5 batsman of the decade. To do what he has done, and continues to do, for a team like the West Indies, is nothing short of spectacular. And he just keeps getting better: since Brian Lara retired last year, Chanderpaul has batted 9 times in Tests, been dismissed only 5 of those, scored 3 centuries and 5 fifties, and averaged 139. In one-dayers during the same period, he averages 129. For the whole of 2007, including the World Cup, he averaged 76 in ODIs, with 4 hundreds and 4 fifties.
  
  
• Another view that’s clear and unchanging: there are few experiences as joyous for a cricket fan as watching a Laxman/Dravid partnership. They have now become a genre in themselves. It doesn’t matter what form they take, what context they are in, who the dominant player is, they seem to go beyond normal categories of the mind. They trigger thoughts, memories, feelings; all unique, and all related only to each other. As the sportswriter’s cliché goes, they are transcendent. They go beyond the normal and the expected. When those two are at the crease, there are no predictions -- they’ve stretched the plausible, so they’ve made everything possible.

• Forget about the talent gap, or the preparation gap, or the psychological gap… the biggest factor assisting the Australian team in their domination at the moment is the Appeal Gap. Simply put: Australia is getting an unfair advantage from the effects of their constant, exaggerated appealing. They are intimidating umpires into ruling in their favour, and forcing them to base decisions on the harmony of choreographed hollering, rather than the merit of deliveries.
  
  Normally, this gives the Australians a one- or two-wicket advantage. This time around, it was closer to four or five, which made it all so much more gut-wrenching. Dravid’s should never have been a wicket, nor should Ganguly’s. Hussey and Symonds both hit balls off the middle of the bat into Dhoni’s gloves, but were given not-out simply because the Indians haven’t quite learned how to scream in unison.
  
  Sadly, it seems as if that’s how cricket is being decided these days: who can yell the best. If that’s the case, count me out -- I’ve got better things to do with my time. And I’m tired of waiting for change, when it’s clear that none is on the way.
  
  

The Gatting Ball Of The Post-Retirement Interview Response

Some people may wonder whether Shane Warne is indeed the best spinner in history. After this interview with the Daily Telegraph, their skepticism must abate. Just watch the way he spins this question about Brad Hogg into an answer about his own greatness:

Is Brad Hogg the man to fill the spinner's role for Australia this summer?

India play the spinners extremely well but in Australia the pitches are different, there is a lot of extra bounce, and he (Hogg) can still have an impact. I think Hoggy will do well. They played me pretty well on the whole, but I still had success against them.

In the same interview, he also claims that the 50-over game is finished. I was about to hand Warnie a 'Sheed Award for that statement -- a statement that I thoroughly agree with, incidentally -- until I read further and I realised that all he was saying was that 50-over games should be replaced by 40-over games. So nothing really changes except for ten overs in the one-day game? To paraphrase the Soup Nazi: "No 'Sheed for you, Shane!"

Some Announcement Or Something

India have announced their squad for the tour of Australia starting later this month, with Virender Sehwag's recall, after almost a year away from Tests, causing some controversy. Given that a) about 86.3% of the cricket blogosphere, even on a normal day, consists of a bunch of guys arguing over who should be in the Indian batting lineup, and b) I have nothing particularly salient or insightful to say on the matter, I'll just mention something that pissed me off about Ricky Ponting's reaction to the announcement.

Ponting was asked what he thought of Sehwag's inclusion. He said:

I didn't think Sehwag would make the final touring party but he's here and he had some successes against us last time. A terrific 195 or something.

Or something? Come on, Punter. You know it was 195. You were there. You remember it well... you remember that it was in Melbourne, that it was exactly 195, that he got it on the first day, and that he got out caught in the deep trying to hit a six. Everyone knows it. So why the fuck do you have to add that dismissive "or something" to the statement? Like it was just some random lucky innings in Bangladesh that someone mentioned to you in passing a while ago. Come on, you yourself scored a 257 later that same match. You can't tell me that you barely remember that game, or Sehwag's innings -- you know, the same innings that competed with yours for Man of the Match on the most competitive Boxing Day Test in years. Surely you remember, Ricky. Surely.

(The strange thing about it? I remember that 195 vividly, and yet I had completely forgotten about the 257. I only discovered it a few moments ago when I was checking the archives to see who dismissed Sehwag that time. Has Australia been dominating for so long that I'm starting to repress memories of their success like they're Freudian childhood complexes? Has Australia fucked me -- and my psyche -- up that badly? Damn.)

Tragic Cricketer ≠ Cricket Tragic

I know it's not fair to judge political leaders on anything but their words and their records; yet sometimes, 19 seconds of footage can tell you all you really need to know about a politician. In honour of his brutal defeat at the polls last weekend, here he is, former Australian PM, John Winston Howard:

Wanna Be The Best? Score Some Ducks

Michael Hussey finds himself facing a unique predicament these days. No matter how well he bats, how  many centuries he accumulates, how many potential collapses he staves off, he will probably have to go through the rest of his career seeking an answer to the question, "How much does my average need to drop before I'm taken seriously?"

Cricket is a game of numbers. It is also a game of words, and images, but its foundation rests on numbers. It's about 111, and 222, and 87, and 99.94. (Is there any other sport that needs about three dozen rows of numbers and figures just to tell you there was no result?) And we come to expect something from those numbers. We don't expect them to tell the whole story, but we at least want them to give us the basic plot. Was 'X' a good batter? I don't know, what's his average? And his strike rate? How many Tests did he play? How many hundreds? From the answers to those questions, we can build a crude model of who 'X' was as a player. We understand that myriad factors can alter and distort the look of those numbers, but we accept that inherent margin of error, and try to work around it.

Hussey's average is just way too high. It's unreal; phantasmal. It doesn't say anything about the man -- sure, it tells us he's a good player, with aggressive instincts, who came into the Australian team in the mid-2000's, and was in really good form when he debuted. Other than that, what can we say? That he's  the second best batter in history? Laughable. That he's better than Lara, Tendulkar, Dravid, Ponting, or Gilchrist? Doubtful.

But then again, who knows? Maybe Michael Hussey is in fact the best cricket player of the past quarter century. Maybe if he hadn't been ignored by the Australian selectors for about half a decade, he would now be sitting on 8,000 runs off 80 Tests with 30 centuries, instead of 1,800 off 18 with 7. But we will never get to know that, and as long as his average stays in the 70s and 80s, his merits can never be properly assessed. (The number will not have a literal asterisk, like Roger Maris' 61, but it will definitely have one in the minds of fans, who tacitly understand that it's partially a by-product of Australia's brutal dominance, and the rest of the world's mediocrity, throughout the decade.)

On the other hand, if he has a bit of slump in his career, drops to around the mid-50s in average, but then bounces back up to finish with 60 upon retirement, I think his legacy will become even more profound. By coming down to the level of the mortals, paradoxically, he will become greater. His greatness will become than just an epiphenomenon; his career will gain legitimacy, and his true value as a player will be fully appreciated. Until then, it's all just numbers.

Nero's Spot Might Soon Be Threatened

Is it just me, or are Australians (and Australian fans) sounding more and more arrogant by the day? True, they have always been riding the higher end of the Arrogance Spectrum throughout their era of dominance, but lately they've gone right off the charts. Ever since McGrath and Warne retired, it's like they're not even trying to hide it anymore. The thin layer of faux-humility has been erased, and we start hearing comments like this:

"Hobart is somewhere that probably will favour slow bowlers late in the game and it's somewhere where we might bat twice, so (Muralitharan) will have two cracks at us." -- Ricky Ponting

(You know, they might bat twice -- they might even be forced to last the whole five days, god forbid. Worst-case scenario, of course. If half their squad comes down with explosive diarrhea on the day of the match, and Symo stumbles onto the ground with a flask of last-night's-rocket-fuel in his hand, and Haydos' femur breaks trying to hold the weight of his gargantuan chest as he takes his guard... then, you know, they might have to bat twice. They just might.)

As if that wasn't bad enough, yesterday we got John Buchanan's ridiculous calls for a complete revamp of cricket at the international level. From what I can tell, Buchanan seems to be saying that Australia is just so damn great and produces so much pure talent that the only way for cricket to remain competitive is for every international squad to just load their lineup with surplus Aussie players. (In other words, Buchanan is telling the rest of the world, "even our rejects are better than every person in your shitty, underachieving little country." Thanks, John.)

Looking at the Arrogance Spectrum, I'd say at the moment the Aussies are somewhere between "Jay-Z after hearing his latest album made it to the top of the charts, giving him more No.1 records than any artist except for Elvis," and "Donald Trump at the best of times." If they beat Sri Lanka easily in Hobart, who knows how far they could go up. We might even have to recalibrate the scale just to handle Ponting's trophy ceremony speech.

A Head Full Of Ideas That Are Driving Me Insane (SL-Aus Preview)

Tomorrow, at the Gabba in Brisbane, Sri Lanka and Australia will play the first Test of the newly-christened Warne-Muralitharan Trophy series. (Yes, that's what it's called. What I'd like to know is why the Australian name always comes first in those bilateral series... Chappell-Hadlee, Border-Gavaskar, etc.) I have refrained from commenting on Sri Lanka's tour so far, since I was waiting to see how they'd fare in the warm-up watches. I waited because I understood the grave importance of this series, not only for the balance of power in cricket, but also for my own future enjoyment of the game.

See, I have a conflict of allegiances here. I happen to be both pro-Sri Lanka and virulently anti-Australia, and I'm not sure which of my positions should take precedence. That might not make a lot of sense at first, since the two views seem perfectly complimentary, yet there is a certain logic behind it. If we were to take this series in isolation, then sure, I'm all for Sri Lanka, and will cheer for them every step of the way. But looking at a cricket series in isolation is not only pointless, it is also virtually impossible -- it would involve consciously erasing all previous knowledge about the game from the mind, as well as any future hopes or expectations. It would turn the game into a purely superficial spectacle, devoid of the richness of history and narrative context that make cricket such a fascinating game to follow. (And believe me, if mindless sensory thrills are what I'm searching for, Test cricket would be waaaaayyyyy down on my list of places to look.)

So what is the context of this series? What does it represent? The most obvious (and important) point is that it will be the first series without Shane Warne and Glenn McGrath leading the Australian bowling attack. This is no small matter -- the two of them combined for more than 1,200 Test wickets, led their team to international domination for almost a decade and a half, and virtually destroyed the careers of countless players, from Jimmy Adams to Darryl Cullinan to every Pakistani opener since 2000. They (Warne and McGrath) were the ying and yang of the Australian Machine... one a blonde virtuoso playboy with a flair for the theatrical, the other a pulseless country savant with cocked wrists and a ridiculous haircut. On paper, they seemed like the oddest of couples, yet they complimented each other on the field better than any pair this side of Jordan and Pippen.

Now they're both gone, and for the first time since, um... forever... Australia go into a series with arguably the weaker of the two bowling attacks. Mitchell Johnson has yet to play a Test, Brett Lee is older than he looks and has never really dazzled in Tests, and Stuart Clarke is a glorified extra at best. (As for Stewie McGill, let's just say that, like Shooter McGavin, Muralitharan eats pieces of shit like him for breakfast.)

 

And yet, I have the strange suspicion that none of that will matter, since the Sri Lankan batting looks so frightfully out of form. Normally, that wouldn't be such a major concern, since the team has a good mental outlook and usually finds a way to stay competitive in any contest through sneaky 40-run partnerships in the lower middle order and dedication by the tail. However, this is Australia we're dealing with here, and I don't think a bunch of quiet first-innings 280's will be enough to deal with a batting backbone of Hayden-Ponting-Hussey-Gilchrist. It just seems like too much of an ask. (Sangakkara's torn hamstring would generally piss me off, but it wouldn't really be a tour of Oz without some sort of punch-to-the-balls injury like that to the touring team.) Unless Murali and Malinga somehow come up with three or four freakish displays of Pantheon-level classic bowling, I don't think Sri Lanka have enough to win it.

Which is why, as much as it pains me to say it, I think the best hope for the future (a bright, just future, with competitive cricket played all around the world and no one team ever dominating all others) might be for Sri Lanka to lose this series somewhat comprehensively. If they go out there and play hard, keep it tight, never give anything away, test the Australians and make them work hard for every run and wicket... they'll probably still lose. But at the same time, they'd also be helping Australia immensely -- to move on after Warne and McGrath, to give the youngsters valuable challenges and experience, and to take mid-tier Test players (like Michael Clarke and Andrew Symonds) to a whole new level. Australia would only come back stronger, and the chance for world cricket to turn over a new leaf would have vanished.

On the other hand, if Sri Lanka get pummeled two-nil, with Hayden and Ponting hitting unmemorable centuries and McGill bagging a couple of profligate 10-for's, nothing will have changed. The fans would get (even more) cocky and arrogant, McGill would stay in the squad, Bracken would stay out of it... and as a whole, Australia would gently let down its guard. Then, India can come in undetected and land the killer blow that would make the entire Australian cricket establishment see stars for months.

No, actually, you know what... I can't do it. There is no possible way I could cheer for Australia to beat Sri Lanka. (Especially after the scars of the World Cup final.) So I guess all that's left to do now, like Maggie's farmhand, is to fold my hands and pray for rain. May we see a dark cloud hover above the entire Australian eastern seaboard and make it pour down relentlessly for two weeks or so. Not only would it wash out both Tests in the series (more on the categorical idiocy of holding 2-Test series later), but it might also help alleviate the drought that's plagued the country for the past decade or seven.

You can't say I'm totally anti-Australia, after all.   

A Retroactive Treat Is Still A Treat

I missed it when it happened, but it seems Simon Katich scored a rather, um, un-Katichesque triple-century a few days ago, playing for NSW against Queensland. On this Halloween, I couldn't think of a better treat – not candy, not chocolate, not even a girl dressed like a slutty cat at a drunken party – than for the Australian selectors to see that innings, and based on it decide to bring the Kat back into the squad. Simon Katich is exactly what we need at the moment. Someone to clog the engine of this brutal Australian machine and slow their progress for a little while. I await his upcoming clumpy 60s and stop-start 40s – as everyone else around him goes a run-a-ball – with delirious anticipation.

All He Did Was Show Up

What did Muralitharan do? I don't get it. Was it something he said? Maybe I didn't catch it. (I've been busy working on some long, esoteric undergrad essays recently; it's quite possible that it could have slipped past me.) All I can remember is him minding his own business, trying to get back to full fitness for the upcoming international cricket season. Then one day Sreesanth started talking shit to the Australians on the field. Then Harbhajan joined him. Then the Australians talked back. Then some Indian fans were photographed letting out their Ids on Andrew Symonds. And now somehow Murali is going to have to grin and bear the racial abuse of the entire hill section at the Adelaide Oval? I don't quite see the link.

(Congrats to Jason Gillespie, by the way, for helping fuel the fire of idiocy that is steadily burning around this non-issue. Thanks, Dizzy – you can now go back to loading Wolfmother's road gear into the tour bus, or whatever it is that you do with your mullet time these days.)

Australians... If You Lick Them, You Hallucinate!

Comedian Louis CK used to have a bit in his stand-up about racism, in which he wondered:

"Why can’t we have racism that’s ignorant but nice? You could have stereotypes that are positive about race. You could say, 'Those Chinese people, they can fly!,' or 'You know about the Puerto Ricans… they’re made of candy!'"

I've thought of that while following the recent 'monkey chant' controversy regarding Andrew Symonds. It's not so much that the people in the crowd who did it are bigoted, it's that they're hacks. C'mon, it's 2007... and monkey chants are the best you have? They were doing that in the '50s, for godssake. If you're going to be the designated Angry Player-Abuser in the crowd, at least get yourself some fresh material.

It's like Michael 'Kramer' Richards' yelling "nigger" at a pair of hecklers in one of his shows last year. It was sad more than anything -- proof of a tragic dearth of spark and originality in his work, rather than actual bigotry. The taboo language comes out because it's the only thing left to reach for; the only way to keep the spotlight on you; because there's no comeback left, no witty put-down to lean back on. You're out of shit, and you know it.

So the monkey chant comes out. Just like it did in the second Test between South Africa and Pakistan,  and in South Africa's tour of Australia last year. And just like it will come out in the future, when some pandering assclown in the crowd gets sloppy-drunk too quickly and uses up his quota of effective Ya wanker, and You're a cunt! too early in the match, so he's forced to reach into the pantomime bag for the monkey material to top himself. If the media treated it like they do streakers and just ignored it, it would go away in a few weeks. Now all they're doing is building up the issue and fueling the copycat effect in future series.

(We'll ignore the underlying irony, which I'm sure was lost on the offending crowd members, of a bunch of stadium rubes -- who usually tend to have a very unevolved look about them, all hairy-backed and scraped-knuckled -- taunting Andrew Symonds, about as close to an athletic Übermensch as the cricket world has ever seen.)

Also, since it's a bit of a slow day in cricket, some more Louis:

 

Joined At The Snub

I’ve been wondering: is Murali Kartik the Indian version of Nathan Bracken, or is it the other way around? You wouldn’t think so just by looking at them (or their records: Bracken has one of the lowest one-day bowling averages in history, while Kartik’s is higher than Matthew Hayden’s bra size) but they do share a lot of qualities. They both only came to the fore in their late twenties, they always do exactly what is asked of them on the field, and yet they continue to be overlooked in favour of flashier bowling rivals. Kartik for some reason is always brought in to share the punishment when India have to play Australia, yet he always manages to performs well, as if he belongs in there, and has been known to give the Aussies quite a few headaches. Bracken has been given a few more games, but continues to be a fringe player in the Australian squad -- in this series alone, he's already been dropped and brought back in twice. 

Another thing they both share, although harder to define, is a measured calm on the field. They have a  phlegmatic look about them that suggests a) balance, b) gratification, and c) an appropriate amount of blowjobs in their recent past. Neither of them look like their worlds would crumble if cricket wasn't there. They seem like, well... happy people. If I were running a cricket team, that's probably the kind of person I would want to enlist. But maybe the Australian and Indian selectors disagree.

(A Colbertian Tip O' The Hat to Joey for first putting me on to Kartik's skills. Where some might have seen just an unremarkable 1 for 49 three years ago, he saw the way of the future. Except, um, not... since Kartik will probably be dropped for another year now.)

"I Believe That Is Mr. de Silva's"

It's Aravinda de Silva's 42nd birthday today, and I was hoping to post a video of one of his many glorious innings, but all I could find on YouTube was some grainy straight-off-the-TV footage of four of his boundaries from a one-day innings against India in 1998; and this, the trophy ceremony from the 1996 World Cup Final, when de Silva won Man of the Match:



(I love how many hangers-on there are onstage -- it's like the scene at the end of "Happy Gilmore," when Happy beats Shooter in the putt-off and wins the golden jacket. I half-expected Mark Taylor to jump in at some point, grab the MoM trophy and run off with it, leading to some scary Sri Lankan building site foreman with a pituitary disorder and a nail through his skull to start chasing after him.)

For a much better display of de Silva's undeniable magic, how about cricinfo's account of my favourite single delivery in the history of cricket, during the 2002 Champions Trophy Semifinal:

   6.5 de Silva to Hayden, OUT: down the track comes Hayden, trying for
        the huge heave-ho over midwicket. But he doesn't keep his eye on
        the ball, which keeps low and straight and crashes into the
        stumps. The bowling change doing the trick here.

I still remember how cathartic that moment was. Some context: Australia won the toss and chose to bat first. They were in one of their ridiculous ‘swing viciously at the every delivery and just let the other team drop their way to a loss’ moods that day, and by the sixth over were already racing along at 8/over. Then de Silva came on and triggered the most delicious of collapses you could imagine. The symbolism was so apt, it gave you goosebumps – this little pear-shaped Sri Lankan part-timer, being asked to stave off the Imperial onslaught in the 7^th over of the match. He faces big, fee-fi-fo-fum-ing Matthew Hayden, more than ready to inflict some serious damage… and he bowls him, straight through the gate. Australia are all out for 163, de Silva ends up with bowling figures of 10-2-16-1, and Sri Lanka chase down the score with 7 wickets to spare. Can it possibly get any better?

Right Next To Some Hockey Fight

Back in 2004, after NBA star Shaquille O'Neal was essentially forced out of a (winning) Los Angeles Lakers squad due to Kobe Bryant's constant hissy fits, ESPN columnist Bill Simmons tried to work out how angry and vengeful Shaq would be in his comeback season with a new team, the Miami Heat. In trying to answer that question, Simmons came up with the Vengeance Scale, drawn from the worlds of sport, movies, music and (somewhat excessively, I think) pro wrestling.

The Vengeance Scale ranges from 0 to 10, going up from least to most vengeful (0.1 being "O.J. Simpson's valiant attempt to find the 'real killers,'" 5.0 being "Crazy Joe Davola vs. Kramer and Seinfeld," and 10.0 being "Keyser Soze in The Usual Suspects.")

I've been trying to think where Andrew Symonds' recent performance against India would rank in the Vengeance Scale. Think about it: 107 not out off 88 balls with the bat, 10 overs for just 39 runs with the ball, in the fifth game of a (still competitive at the time) series against India, after losing to them in the Twenty20 semi-final just weeks before. That in itself would already merit a decent rank, but when you factor in all the 'monkey chants', Sreesanth's schoolyard mind games, and all the extra sauce that has been added -- from both sides -- to this series, Symonds' feat starts to look more and more impressive. (The fact that he was also dropped by Sreesanth when he was on 2 can only add add points to his score.)

I'd say it definitely has to rank higher than "Snoop and Dre taking shots at Easy E in 'Wit' Dre Day'" (at 7.1), but still a little lower than "Cartman's revenge on Scott Tenorman" (at 7.8). Let's just split the difference and give it a 7.5.

A Legend In A Crew-Cut, Perhaps?

Even though he was sidelined for the first three games of the series, and was then brought on to yield figures of 1 for 78 in the fourth, there's no doubt in my mind that Nathan Bracken is still the most dangerous bowler in that Australian lineup. It's amazing that he is already 30 years old (really, he is... go check) and yet has played only 5 Tests and 68 one-day internationals. The selectors must really think the headband look is too faggy or something, because I just don't understand those numbers.

Just take a look at Bracken's ODI stats: his bowling average (21.86) and strike rate (29.7) are better than any other player's, bar Shane Bond's, through the same 2002-2007 period. In the list of best career bowling averages, Bracken's name sits right below Alan Donald's and Saqlain Mushtaq's, and just above Glenn McGrath's.

But the stats don't tell the full story, because only by watching him in action can one fully grasp just how smart a bowler Bracken really is; how he gives you nothing while constantly keeping you guessing, and how truly frustrating he must be to face. Look at this over, the 35th, from Monday's game:

34.1	Bracken to Yuvraj Singh, no run, full and outside off, Yuvraj is late in getting forward to drive and ends up mistiming it to midwicket
34.2	Bracken to Yuvraj Singh, no run, slower one outside off stump, Yuvraj adjusts to tap it to short third man region
34.3	Bracken to Yuvraj Singh, 1 run, fullish, outside off stump, Yuvraj strides forward to drill it through the line and it goes one bounce to left of long-off where Hogg makes a half-stop. But they ran only a single. Hmm...
34.4	Bracken to Tendulkar, 1 run, leans forward to drive to deep cover
34.5	Bracken to Yuvraj Singh, 1 wide, 108.3 kmph slower one, well outside off stump, Yuvraj Singh can't connect with his square drive. Wide called. Harsh.
34.5	Bracken to Yuvraj Singh, 1 run, leans forward to drive to long-off
34.6	Bracken to Tendulkar, no run, 108.1 kmph slower one, full, on the middle, dead-batted to the on side
End of over 35 (4 runs) - India 172/1 (RR: 4.91)

Plus, there’s also my long-held suspicion that Bracken single-handedly instigated Virender Sehwag’s tragic fall from cricketing grace of the past few years, after he dismissed him three consecutive times (twice for a duck, once for 5) in a one-day triangular series in India in 2003. Since then, Sehwag’s career has stalled dramatically -- he has averaged 29.20 with the bat and scored only 2 centuries (one of those against Bermuda) in 95 one-day internationals, and will struggle to find a place in the Indian squad even after all the Old Boyz bid their farewells. (He's also gained a lot of weight and lost most of his hair in that short four-year period). Of course, I could never prove that Bracken was the cause of all this, but I doubt anyone could convince me otherwise either.

How Long Till The IPL Again?

Am I the only one who is already feeling underwhelmed about the current ODI series between Australia and India? Maybe it's because it's coming so soon after the excitement of the World Cup, or maybe it's because my mind has involuntarily stopped caring about the one-day game ever since it realised that the format will soon be phased out, I'm not sure. Even though I get the feeling that it could end up being quite competitive, it just feels like a giant non-sequitur to me. Will it change the balance of power in the game? Doubt it. Will it tell us anything special about either team? Probably not. It's just there to... well, fill the time, I guess. And make a little money. Other than that, without any enduring context or storyline, I can't really see any purpose for such a series at the moment. (And "seeing Matthew Hayden's career end prematurely after being struck by a full-blooded cut shot to the face" doesn't count as a reason, since that's pretty much what I hope to see in every Australian series.)

Because Why Not?

Some old highlights from the one Australian opener we all wish was still around at middle age, instead of his boiler-chested ex-partner. The pure beauty of the first four, at 0:27, is enough to make one gasp aloud. 

(Also, check out Graham Gooch's [!!] vicious bouncer at 4:18.)

Wrong-Footed Henchmen, Aging Youth, and 'Pulling A Diddy'

As I watched them dominate Australia earlier today, I suddenly realised how much the Pakistan team has changed in the past few months, and how much I need to catch up on regarding their new look, new attitude, etc. Some random observations:

• I can’t believe I’m saying this, but Pakistan did a very nice job in the field. (No, don’t laugh, I’m being serious.) They really have helped their cause immensely with some good hustle and a selfless effort from their fielders. (Stop it, really. It’s not a joke.) They have saved their batsmen at least 20 runs through their efforts containing the Australian batsmen. (Yes, I did mean Pakistan. For real! You’re not gonna believe me, are you? Fine.)
  
  
• Sohail Tanvir is a very interesting bowler – it’s nice to see some more idiosyncratic players rising onto the scene. At times during his spell he was variating his pace better than anyone in world not named ‘Daniel Vettori.’ I wonder if it’s just his unorthodox, wrong-footed action (described by my buddy George as, “a fast-medium Paul Adams”) that had the Australian batsman so confused, or if there’s something else lurking behind that deceptively gentle run-up and that cavernous, henchman-to-an-early-Bond-villain visage.

• When did Younis Khan change his name to Younus Khan? And why wasn’t I informed of this? After the Youhana/Yousuf switch a couple of years ago, these are the things I need to be made aware of… Oh and by the way, Ponting better not be serious about dropping the –y from his first name. I didn't accept the 're-monikerisation' from Puffy at the time, and I will certainly not accept it from you now, R-I-C-K-Y.

• Andrew Symonds is throwing the ball. Yes, that’s right -- he’s a chucker. No one will ever mention it, of course, since he is Australian. (I suppose he also seems like a nice enough guy. And besides, who wants to ban a wobbly part-timer from bowling, really?)
  
  
• Memo to Slater, Chapell, and co.: ‘Inexperience at the international level’ ≠ ‘Youth’. Misbah-ul-Haq has been around for quite a while now; do your research. His name always pops up in discussions during periods of renovation and reconstruction for Pakistani cricket, when the selectors feel they need to re-arrange their shop front and apply a few surface coats for the public. Give it two years or so, and he'll be right back to captaining that 'A' squad with little hope for the future.

• Here's a guarantee: Pakistan will never get anywhere in world cricket as long as their worst three batters also happen to be their first three batters. Choose one of those top three and go with him -- cut the other two a cheque, thank them for their services, and send Youn?s Khan up the order to open with the winner.
  

 

Playing Time Like A Skipping Record

It's the 10th over, and Australia are well on their way to beating England and squeaking through to the next round of the World Cup. Alas, a good chance missed. I wasn't able to watch their innings, so I don't know whether the English team realise what a great opportunity they wasted. Had they beaten the mighty Australia and knocked them out of the tournament, we would have seen heads spinning, careers ending, and blame being hurled like monkey feces across the entire Australian cricket habitat. It would've been a brilliant glimpse into reality in a post-McGrath world (because isn't that what it is all about, after all?).

Now we won't get to see it. At least not yet. Australia are now set to make it at least to the semifinals, which even if they lose, they can just shrug off as "the luck on the day" in a shits-and-giggles little rehearsal-run of a tournament. Getting eliminated in the first round, on the other hand, represents a greater symbolic blow. That's why teams are often forced to blow it all up and start afresh after getting knocked out of the first round of a tournament -- it's not that they want to or even think it's very wise, it's just that they need to. Simply to show that they're doing something. (Remember when Pakistan decided to drop Inzamam after the 2003 World Cup?)

But that's what could've been... a sight of another world. Maybe better, who knows? It's hard to say. Instead, we're now probably destined to watch Matthew Hayden's tanker chest parading around the crease for another two years or so. Whoop-dee-fuck'n-doo... 

I Think I'm Starting To Love This Twenty20 Thing

I woke up at 2:30 in the afternoon today. I guess that's what tends to happen if you stay up until 7:30 AM watching the most satisfying cricket match in recent memory. I'll just let King Cricket take it from here:

What’s this in our underwear? It’s urine. It’s gallons and gallons of urine produced during uncontrollable laughter at how Australia lost to Zimbabwe in the Twenty20 World Cup.

[Incidentally, I was surfing through their archives, and I must give the King Cricket guys some props. How can you not love a site that includes an entire section devoted to delightful ad hominem attacks on that hulking mound of proto-human leathery mass, commonly referred to as 'Matthew Hayden.']

 

Waking Up To The Anti-Richie

Every person has a distinct 'internet morning routine'; an ordered hierarchy of sites they access when they first log on to the internet in the morning. I'm sure that -- needy, attention-hungry creatures that we are -- we all check our email before any else, but the order thereafter is completely defined by our individual tastes and predilections. As a cricket fan, cricinfo is naturally near the top of that list for me most of the time. (During periods of heavy action in the game, it may even rise up to no. 2.) Since the end of World Cup, however, cricinfo had been hovering nearer double-digits on most mornings, behind various online news sources, political blogs and even offseason NBA rumour sites.

That all changed ten days ago, on Friday the 31st of August, the day of the final installment of Shane Warne's 50 Greatest Cricketers series in the Times. Much has already been written about that list, but it wasn't the content of it that interested me so much (Rob Steen and Tim de Lisle do a fine job of discussing Warne's choices and noteworthy omissions). What intrigued me more was the reaction to the list, from myself and many others. Why should I be so fascinated by some ex-player's stupid subjective list of 'great cricketers'? Would I care as much if, say, Justin Langer released such a list in a newspaper? Of course not, and I doubt he could even find a publication to grant him the print space in a single edition, let alone an entire week's run.

Therefore, it must be something about Warne that sparks that public fascination. The only other person I can imagine who would command such attention is Richie Benaud, and he has earned that status after almost half a century of detached impartiality and sober, understated analysis. Those are not qualities we'd normally associate with Shane Warne. In fact, they are the very qualities we'd expect not to see from Warne. And that itself might be why we all cared so much about that top-50.

We expect Warne's choices to be inconsistent. And biased. And distorted by personal feelings. We expect him to give us something odd (Mark Taylor is higher than Steve Waugh), something shocking (no VVS Laxman)... even something completely incoherent at times (Darren Berry is in, but Kumar Sangakkara is not? Give me a break). We expect it because we know Warne, and we know the way he has always managed to combine a fine mind for cricket with an ego-driven recklessness and insecurity that force him to act the fool, or say something weird, or get himself in trouble. Just to make sure he has everyone's attention.

In most cases, we would expect the filters of corporate propriety to prevent players from saying what they really want to say. And Warne is no different, for the most part. Except sometimes... when he just can't help it. Fortunately, for all of us, Shane Warne is really, really bad at 'helping it.' 

The Polaroids and homemade tattoos of CWC07

Wow, a damn good cricket blog this turned out to be. It’s as if it was swallowed up whole by the Bermuda triangle sometime before the start of the first World Cup semifinal. In a way, it was. Well, not around Bermuda; somewhere near Jamaica, in fact.

Everything was going fine until Jamaica. We had endured the years of anticipation, the months of grudge work and rationing in order to save up for the event, the hellish 45-hour trans-oceanic plane trip, the procession of spare rooms, apartments, hotel rooms and guesthouses across four islands -- not to mention the disproportionate quantity of truly awful cricket games across the six-week-span of the overlong, idiotically-organised tournament. We’d made it through all that, even managing to write about some of it, and were now staring at The End, straight in the face. The Semis and the Final. The last chance for glory, redemption, and maybe, just maybe, justice in the field.

And then… it all went to shit. Logistical problems, a shortage of funds, technical difficulties too mundane to mention; lost notebooks and forgotten pens; weak wireless signals and bad vibes; take your pick. Kingston was an ominously paradoxical shithole -- a sweltering, overcrowded ghost-town, full of low-grade hustlers and unspoken hostility. We couldn’t wait to get the hell out of there. Ocho Rios wasn’t much better, but at least it was small enough to let you keep your bearings. We watched the final there, and after it we didn’t feel much like going anywhere or seeing anything, so we stuck around. To decompress before the return home. We didn’t even care that our guesthouse in Ochi was run by a mentally unstable, middle-aged Canadian woman who seemed capable of going on a midnight rum-and-weed binge any day and torching the whole place down.

I think that period was necessary after enduring that apocalyptic bummer of a World Cup final. That was just horrible – truly, truly awful. It was the worst of all possible worlds: Australia winning in statistically convincing fashion, with Glenn McGrath grabbing Player-of-the-Tournament. The status quo was maintained, the rest of the world hadn’t caught up one iota in four years, and McGrath was bowing out to great fanfare with that smug look on his face. That’s the stuff from the vilest kind of third-world malarial nightmare. It still makes me a little sick just to mention it.

It’s fine, though; the mourning period has now passed, and I am quickly building up the reserves of unwarranted idealism, antagonistic bile, and aesthetic liberalism that are needed to immerse oneself into sport again, let alone write about it. But before that, for the sake completeness if nothing else, the missing posts.

I can probably count on one hand the number of people who care about these, but here they are regardless. Unabridged, unadorned (and in blue): the last blog posts leading up to the World Cup final. They were written at the time but not posted, and have sat untouched on my hard drive since. You can go back and read them chronologically, or you could enjoy it Memento-style, starting with the last post and going back in time. I think I prefer it that way; you can watch as bitterness and resignation slowly and magically transform themselves into hope and anticipation. It's not often that we get to see things that way...

The Final Stream (p.2)

AUSTRALIA v. SRI LANKA, Final (April 28)

Nothing a rum and a quick J can't fix. The asking rate is 7.47 per over. Here's the chase:

8th Over

... So I guess it's all up to Jayasuriya now. His average against Australia does not inspire much confidence: 22.5. It's all about attacking Tait and Watson and cruising diffidently against McGrath. This ain’t the 1990s… this score can be chased. ...

... McGrath comes on to bowl for the last time in his career. To Jayasuriya, who is most likely also batting in his last international innings. ...

... Ricky Ponting really goes all out with those spitballs he hurls onto his hands before fielding, doesn’t he? They’re not scattered droplets of saliva on his fingertips; they’re huge slimey globs he smears all across his palms. ...

16th Over

... McGrath is bowling superbly and there seems to be no way anyone could play him right now. So this is it -- McGrath and Gilchrist doing it for Australia. Again. And if Warne had been here, I’m sure he would have contributed as well. That trio represent the primary reason for Australia’s dominance in the past decade. They are three absolutely unique freaks of nature; the kind of sporting geniuses that usually only come along once or twice per generation. And Australia had THREE of them at the same time. You could surround them with a bunch of under-15 Zimbabwe club players and I bet they would still win more often than not. ...

... Thank god for Watson and his flavourless fast-medium. Between him and Tait, Sri Lanka are staying in this match. They also have Hogg to bash around if needed, so there’s no reason to panic yet. ...

 ... Jayasuriya hit the first mis-timed four of the Sri Lankan innings, over long-on. Make that Australia: 23, Sri Lanka: 1. ...

... Sangakkara has found a streak of form out of nowhere and is creaming the bowling to all parts, doing it with nothing but classical strokeplay. Out of the blue, on the third ball of the 13th over, he suddenly went up the pitch to McGrath and pulled a massive six. He then hit another two dismissive fours to finish the over and is looking as good with the bat as he has all tournament. ...

... Sri Lanka's second fifty of the innings came from 27 balls. They are now ahead of Australia's pace and both batters are looking comfortable at the crease. Did someone say "Wanderers '06 all over again?" ...

24th Over

... And then Sangakkara pulls a fuller ball by Hogg and spoons it straight to Ponting at mid-wicket. The partnership is dead. ...

... J. mentions how Jawardene looks completely in control from the first delivery. He really has become a middle-order monster in recent times, and is proving it during this World Cup. ...

... You are kidding me! Jayasuriya gets bowled by Clarke with a ball that essentially rolled on to the stumps after pitching. Why Sri Lanka are being made to bat on a sticky wicket in 2007, I have no fucking idea. It has been drizzling for quite a while now, and the wicket even looks damp -- a muddy, dark brown colour. But since Sri Lanka are on the wrong side of Duckworth-Lewis, they still have to attack like maniacs, just in case the umpires decide to pull them out of the field sometime. How many more obstacles does Sri Lanka need to face today? ...

31st Over

... It looks like a Rastaman has come out with a sack full of herbal refreshment for the players. Oh no, it's just some sawdust for the bowlers. Any more time you want to waste there, Ponting? ...

... So they come off the field right as the rain starts belting down. Sri Lanka are doomed. ...

36th Over

... Now to add insult to griveous injury, we get Mark Nicholas and Michael Atherton, the two most condescending and arrogant-sounding commentators on the scene, sitting in the commentator's box to finish the game. Please kill me right now. ...

The sight that will define this World Cup: Percy Sonn, the CEO of the ICC, looking like a Banana Republic leader about to be deposed by the military, standing on the makeshift podium, in the dark, as the crowd hisses and booes.

Tony Cozier thanks the groundstaff for "perhaps the best of all" pitches they produced this tournament. Yeah, the Australians would like to thank them immensely.

Jayawardene was asked to talk about the players from his team who will probably not make it to another World Cup. He talked about Jayasuriya, Murali, Vaas, Atapattu, but forgot to mention Russel Arnold. Not even his teammates remember his existence! It's no surprise that Arnold's first-class team is called "the Nondescripts". (That is 100% true, you can check.)

Ricky Ponting accepts the trophy and answers the typical questions. Now that I think about it, I guess he's a smart choice as captain and ambassador for Australia, since his facial features really are quite marsupial. He has the koala-in-the-headlights look mastered. Tourism Australia should give him a call sometime.

The Final Stream (p.1)

AUSTRALIA v. SRI LANKA, Final (April 28)

The match has been cut down to 38 overs, so instead of posting at 10-over intervals, it'll have to be every 8. (Well, three lots of 8 and then two 7s. Does it matter, really?)

8th Over

... As if Australia needed some extra luck, Ricky Ponting has again won the toss, and the Australians will be batting a shortened innings. This is the second consecutive final where they have won the toss (and it might as well be the third, since Wasim Akram basically shot himself in the foot by batting first in bowler-friendly conditions in '99). Uh-oh. ...

... Now that's the Hayden of old: 11 off 27 deliveries. A valuable time-waster at the top of the innings. For a long time, he and Damien Martyn were the only thing that kept Australia's opponents in the game on flat pitches. You actually had to cheer for Australia not losing wickets, if only because it meant Haydos and Damo were keeping the strike rate at around 5, rather than the 6+ that Ponting or Symonds guaranteed. ...

16th Over

... 46 for 0 at the ten over mark. Considering that the pitch looks flatter than Mischa Barton and there is no swing for Vaas to exploit, I'd say that is a great start for Sri Lanka, albeit without an early wicket. ...

... Dilhara Fernando dropped a tough c & b chance off Gilchrist at the start of the 11th over. The next three balls went for four, four, and six. How long before we see the first no-ball? What's the over/under? I say third ball off his next over ...

... Muralitharan has come on and the fate of the Sri Lanka's today could hang on what his first few overs yield. Dilshan is at the other end, trying to stay as inconspicuous as possible so he can steal a few cheap overs before anyone notices that he can be carted for 20 runs in an over without too much effort. ...

... Gilchrist has decided that this is his day, and there's nothing anyone can or could do it about. Not Murali. Not Malinga. Not McGrath, or Bracken, or Warne, or Dennis Lillee, or Keith Miller. ...

24th Over

... Great, Hayden's hitting edges to third man for four now. The eighteenth over, bowled by Fernando, went for 13 runs and not one of those came from anywhere near the middle of the bat. The beach ball is now out in the stands, the Mexican wave is probably not too far off... just another day of unbearable Australian dominance. ...

... Mark Nicholas is just going through all the random factors that have gone against Sri Lanka today:

-- They lost the toss.
-- The game was cut to 38 overs, which helps the Australian big hitters.
-- Although the air was humid, there was absolutely no swing for Vaas.
-- Muralitharan has less overs to bowl and be dangerous.
-- The ball will get less scuffed up for someone like Malinga to exploit the reverse swing. ...

... Gilchrist gets to his hundred with a top-edge for four over the infield in the second Powerplay. Australia have raced to 150 in no time and I doubt they've timed more than 50% of their balls. Hayden has yet to hit the middle of the bat in 50 deliveries and has somehow reached 38. Gilchrist has indeed smashed a few meaty sixes and fours, as he will do whenever he stays at the crease for any extended period of time, but he has mis-timed just as many of his shots. This is beyond ridiculous. ...

31st Over

... So is Gilly going to get a double-century in a World Cup final, off 38 overs?! Is that the plan for today? I can't believe this shit is happening again. Another absurdly flat pitch, another small ground, another toss won by Australia, another ugly pummeling. It's been four years since the massacre at Jo'burg, and look how little things have changed. ...

... So much for consolations: Gilchrist just got out for 149, and now Andrew Symonds (career strike rate: 92.3) comes in to bat. ...

38th Over

... Mark Nicholas must need a change of underwear pretty soon. That pre-cum should be accumulating at a scary rate the way he’s going on about the Australians. ...

... How many edges have gone to the third man boundary now for four? Eight? Ten? Malinga did nothing wrong in his 7th over, and he still got hit for thirteen. ...

… Watson was made to look very, very ordinary by Malinga. He was trying to be cute by paddling the ball around the corner, but was too slow and ungainly and only succeeded in getting himself bowled. ...

... Some amazing death bowling by Malinga and Fernando, given the situation. (78 off the last 10)

I’m a little shell-shocked at the moment, to be honest. Hopefully I can get my bearings back before the chase.

Does David Lewis rate Sri Lanka's chances?

It’s here at last. After that vicious wait, the Final. The two best teams; both in form and both hungry. I have been asking people around here for their predictions, and although the consensus is that Australia will win, most people are at least giving Sri Lanka a chance. Almost everyone wants the Lankans to win, but they’re all so accustomed to Australian domination that they can barely even conceive the possibility of a different outcome.

I think a good case can be made for Sri Lanka's chances of victory in the final, much better than the chances the odds-makers and the general public seem to give them. In order to make the case, I think it would help to appeal to a useful tool commonly employed in metaphysics: the theory of Possible Worlds.

Bullets From The Head (Aus v. RSA)

[Note -- I didn't actually manage to make live notes during either of the Semifinals. I did not have my notebook with me in the stadium for the NZ v Sri Lanka match, and then we overslept by half an hour and missed most of South Africa's collapse the next morning. These are all notes jotted down from memory that second night.]

AUSTRALIA v. SOUTH AFRICA

-- Can Graeme Smith be fired now? Has he done enough already to be stripped of the captaincy? Why is nothing that ever happens to that team his fault? After seeing Jayawardene's incredible mastery of pace in an innings the day before, or Ponting's steady control every time the first wicket falls for Australia, Smith's idiotic lunge down the pitch in the 2nd over seems like a pure abduction of responsibility to me. Being captain isn't just about standing in the infield stroking your chin and looking pensive, or blurting out a few vapid clichés in the third person plural ("yeah, the boys gave it their all...") during the post-match interview. It's about standing up when your team needs you and putting the burden on your own shoulders. It's stating from the outset that you are there to stay. To lead. Like Steve Waugh or Imran Khan did. Like Rahul Dravid and Inzamam-ul-Haq do. Hell, like Trent Johnston does.  

But nothing will change, and Smith will continue as captain. I guess I might as well just accept it and switch to another target, so...

-- ...wow, how dumb and weak-minded did Jacques Kallis turn out to be? I had no idea. For someone with such amazing powers of concentration and discipline in his batting, he sure got dismissed in a way that would make even Marlon Samuels blush. A complete brain-fart that could well tarnish the rest of his career. And all that was needed to instigate it were a couple of lines in a ghostwritten newspaper column by Ricky Ponting a few days before the match. You'd think this was Kallis' debut series, or something.

I always wondered why Kallis was never involved in any captaincy discussions. I'm beginning to understand why. He's probably as dense as mountain air -- a batting idiot savant with a textbook technique and a bulldog build, but completely empty upstairs.

-- I'm still deep in my search of a single non-partisan soul in this entire region that actually enjoys watching Australia dominate. At the quiet suburban guesthouse outside of Kingston where we stayed, we met another nine people who had come for the World Cup: four South Africans, two English guys, an Australian mother and her teenage son, and a lone Kiwi. Not one of them could sit in the shared living room and watch more than 15 overs of the Australian run chase. About halfway through Hayden and Clarke's partnership, we all just gave up altogether and changed it to first leg of the Liverpool v. Chelsea Champions League semi.

I know it's no fun watching any team chase a score of 150, but shouldn't there be a certain awe and pleasure in watching such a powerful sports dynasty dominating its field? Wasn't Muhammad Ali impossible to ignore, even when he was clearly better than his opponent? Or Michael Jordan? Or Roger Federer? I can't bear to sit in front of the TV when Australia is cantering to victory. Watching Matthew Hayden clobber boundaries with mis-timed pulls on his way to 60 not out is like sitting through Detention at school, counting down the Runs To Get like you'd count seconds left on the clock.

An outlaw on the rise...

I have to admit, during the recent Ashes series, I held a faint hope that England could somehow scrape out a draw in the end (I was never delusional enough to think they ever had a chance of winning), only because I believed that could have triggered Shane Warne’s return to one-day cricket just for the World Cup. Between his Leviathan-sized ego and pathological sense of competitiveness, I knew Warne would never have allowed himself to end it all on a sour, or even unresolved, note.

Now, I’m not sure if that would have meant he’d come back from retirement for yet another pyjama party, or simply grind it out a little while longer in Test cricket until he found that perfect “This Is Your Life” moment on which to leave. But I think the odds would have been high on an ODI-comeback, due to convenience and timing, if nothing else.

Even though his presence would have made the task of beating Australia a whole lot harder, I still wish Warne was here for the World Cup. I know it’s been said many times, in many ways, but the guy really is a sporting genius. It’s still a joy to watching him weave those intricate webs of deceit around unsuspecting batsmen. But more than that, I just love the practice of spin-bowling in itself -- it is one of the most unique and captivating facets of cricket.

Scraping a Bottomless Barrel

Far be it for me to get in the way of a healthy pissing-on-the-Australian-team session by Will Luke, but surely there are more valid complaints about the Aussies' on-field behaviour than the way they add the word "mate" to their calling between the wickets. How about the gratuitous chest-puffing, the premeditated cockiness, or the way that cockiness quickly turns into cruel hostility at the mere sight of resistance from the opposition?

Or, I don't know, how about the simple fact that they have visciously and joylessly obliterated everyone in their path won for about a generation, and it's gotten a little boring?

Good to see someone sharing the hate...

Will Luke wonders whether anyone will miss Australia's dominance in 10 years' time. Not him, it seems:

I will dance from the rooftops when some of their ageing limbs start to crumble. I’ve had enough of their strutting, their casual arrogance, their one-handed mis-hitting-for-six-over-long-on (Hayden; Gilchrist; whoever). It’s not big, it’s certainly not clever and it’s boring and ugly cricket.

How do I hate? Let me count the ways

It will become quite clear over the next few weeks that neither J-Paul nor I are big fans of the Australian cricket team. In fact, let me qualify that -- we really fucking hate the Australian cricket team. Why, you might ask? The easiest way to answer that question would be to say, "Why not?"

Since cricket is a game that only incurs popular interest at the international level, it should come as no surprise that patriotic and nationalistic impulses are what come to define most people's fanaticism. You are born in a country and you follow that country's efforts, no matter what, right? But if it's perfectly acceptable to base blind allegiance to a team on something as arbitrary as the strip of land where your parents happened to park their rocking van so many years ago, then what is wrong with basing non-allegiance on similar grounds? If you can love blindly, surely you hate blindly as well.

In fact, I feel I shouldn't even have to justify my hate as much as any fan of Australia should justify their devotion. Cheering for Australia is like cheering for the "CPU" character in a console video game. It is gaining enjoyment out of robotic precision and bullying tactics. It is supporting the winner solely for the sense of superiority -- like cheering for Ivan Drago against Rocky, or hoping the house cleans everyone out in a casino.

Once you learn to embrace the fact that Australia are not just a winning team, but a dark force that exists to shatter dreams and obliterate hope, you start seeing the game in a new light. You judge every other team on their true merits and you revel in their exploits against the Dark Masters.

You also start to gain great pleasure from little moments in the game; sights and actions that you come to recognise as signs of impending doom for the Australians. They are few and far between, but oh how sweet they can be. A short collection:

The Gilly Powerwalk
Some players hang about endlessly at the crease after a dismissal, hanging their heads back, looking to the sky as if seeking divine confirmation. Some curse themselves, practicing the shot that led to their fall as they trudge off the field. Adam Gilchrist just speeds off in disgust, almost reaching the pavilion before the umpire even raises his finger. One gets the feeling that he would sprint back, if only it were kosher to do so; instead, he paces briskly, like a man who is already late for work but can't afford to break into a jog because he's afraid of showing up at the office with flop sweat so early in the morning.

Sometimes a fingernail is just a fingernail, right Punter?
Television coverage sometimes distorts the true nature of the game on the field. On TV, you tend to see a lot of tight reaction shots of captains, always seemingly deep in thought and deliberation. (Of course, that same treatment would lend even a 12th man on the sidelines a deep air of gravitas.)

One thing that the cameras don't deceive about is Ricky Ponting's intense oral fixation, made especially clear in times of stress. Hit a few fours and create a tiny bit of pressure on Australia's fielding, and you'll be certain to see Ponting gnawing on his fingernails like a fat kid with a melting ice-cream sandwich in the summer sun. Add to that the ubiquitous dear-in-the-headlights look and the pedestrian captaincy decision, and you start to wonder how often the Australian selectors rue the day they let Shane Warne's zipper issues override their better judgement and the will of a nation.

The McGrath Headshake
The sweetest sight of them all. You know things are starting to head south for the Aussies when metro-Glenn starts pulling out the trademark staccato shakes on the way back to his bowling mark. The most fascinating aspect of the McGrath Shake is how indiscriminate it seems to be. You often get the same shake when a high-calibre batsman hits him for a powerful four that you'd get when McGrath himself gets bowled by an unplayable reverse-swinging yorker. It says a lot about the man that after fifteen years of batting at no. 11 with an average of 3.83, he stills expresses disappointment about losing his wicket. Delusion, or just unmerited confidence? Either way, it is pure bliss for all the unapologetic Oz-haters of this world.