Author: bowlingatvincent

Disappointments.

~ bowlingatvincent ~ Leave a comment

I don’t know anybody who actually thought Southgate would ‘ring the changes’ at half-time, last night. (Did the pundits actually expect that? I muted, early-doors but not before hearing Neville saying something hugely bold and generous about Trent: fair dooos, for a United Man). But the no subs thing became like some Uber-Gareth phenomenon, eh, as the deathly stasis wore on? There became something Ansel Adams-like about both the epic, barren non-performance of his side, and the vacant-but-rich flat-lining image we innocent bystanders were conjuring of the post-match interview, pre-Bellingham.

It would have been some vista, that, with Southgate’s magnificent chin set hard against an ominously swirling backdrop of plastic pint-pots, bratwursts and in then out-of-focus flags. He would have said something about ‘belief in the boys and the process’ before the lads from St Jan’s Ambulance dragged him away by the legs.

But Bellingham – out-of-form, largely; laboured and even a little lame with some of his in-box theatrix – did happen. He did conjure something spectacular and mad: in all this dullness. Gareth was spared – we were all, all spared. The Exceptional Reality that us Inglish inhabit got another nick in the bedpost… and those laughable hours of non-intervention by the coach turned out alright. Gareth could march once more through the miraculous madness/genius corridor and fight (or flee) another day.

I don’t know anybody who is crediting Southgate for any of this: I genuinely don’t think I know anybody who thinks he was right to wait and wait. And this is not because we lack patience or understanding; most of us respect the idea that faith in players is or can be both wonderful and (wot’s the word?) redemptive. The gaffer can and will make the argument that a) he was right in theory and b) (obvs) that he was right in practice. Kane may have been every bit as non-interventionist as his coach, during the tournament and the game, but the bloke nodded the winner. So it’s true that things worked out… and true that most of the universe raged against what felt like patent and even cowardly inaction from the England coaching staff.

Fabulous, ‘deadly’, daft contraflows remain. Those of us who have been angry at and critical of Southgate are the opposite of chastened and appeased. Despite noting the egg on our faces and the bare, extraordinary facts – and the undeniable decency of the man – we are unable to get with Gareth’s theory. (If there is one). The performance was yet again so dispiritingly one-paced and so dull that we dip into the weirdly abstract. How can we enjoy that stuff? In what way is this meant to lift or entertain us? (Even with that Late Drama it still registered as something closer to profound disappointment and embarrassment than to joy). Can’t we do better than this? With that fekkun line-up, surely we can do better than this?

I’m not sure that passage through trumps enjoyment, I’m really not. Friends and family have been saying since the first game that they don’t want England to go through playing like that. (Fact!) They’d rather someone else wins it, playing watchable or hopefully exciting football.

The Meedya barely registers this: as though *things really are* only about winning. There’s this assumption that fans only care about those bedpost notches – I assume because that plays in (or helpfully conforms to) the corporate/’Premier League’ mentality around buying into bigness. Sure we hear plenty loudmouthed donkeys on phone-ins adding fuel to that blinding fire: but I hear and I feel a whole lot more generosity from fans, than that. We care about levels of effort and commitment and heart and we value entertainment.

England are no doubt committed and no doubt they love their country – whatever that means. But there’s a heavy dollop of delusion in there, too. They probably do believe their dull pattern is ‘doing a decent job’. They probably think that ball retention is an end in itself, because ‘chances will come’. Bellingham probably did enjoy sticking it to all of us critics, by sticking that ball in the net. There probably is some truth in all of these views. Patience may be key, may be proven to be key. 2-1. Onward.

England may yet go on and win this tournament. But even if things change now, and they turn dramatically into a thrillingly inventive and creative side, fans local and distant will be underwhelmed. In one sense it’s already too late. There really is a Bigger Picture. We’ve seen a whole series of poor performances. Truly fine players have looked lost in a matrix of sluggishness. A team featuring Foden, Bellingham, Saka and Kane has offered almost no threat. That’s a disappointment: yes?

I’m with them.

~ bowlingatvincent ~ Leave a comment

Honesty-box spoiler alert-thing. I chose not to watch the England game tonight because I’m in Wales… and I expected what happened to happen. A repeat of previous – quite a lot of previous, some might suggest. But rather than get tooo smug about that, I’m going to drop in a few more thoughts; about coaching; about football; about Southgate.

I get that some of you think that this manager has ‘done enough’, has been a notable, even demonstrable success and there is some truth in that. But – because life is complex and there are feelings and responsibilities in play here – it’s also in question.

I chose to coach cricket tonight. For all its faults and that whole icon of conservatism vibe, the ECB transformed coaching about twenty years ago, to put self-learning and ownership at the heart of player development. Coaches were to instruct a whole lot less and allow growth of the player through great questions and Core Principles (as opposed to demonstration and didacticism-by-rote). Skills and brains and leadership were to be developed in a player-centred, even personal kindofaway. This ownership model was thought to be akin to, or essential towards kinds of freedom as well as kinds of discipline and growth.

There may be a case that football has a generic problem with this – so not just Southgate and England, but almost everybody lacks the capacity to find a way, to change, to invent, because most of what they know is on a chart or an ipad. Players are fed – stuffed – with external prompts, with a matrix rammed with all the possibilities except the option to ‘go native’.

The All Blacks had leadership groups decades ago. They made Churchillian team-talks and constant, match-day interventions and instruction from the coaching team almost superfluous. The players could decide stuff: could transform. They were ready; they were equipped; they were autonomous from game plans – or could be.

It may not be quite as simple as football being twenty years behind other sports, coaching-wise but I am going to argue the combination of delusional self-importance, over-coaching and the lack of individual, in-the-moment decision-making and/or tactical adjustments in the allegedly beautiful game is a force – and not in a good way. There are too many coaching staff making too many ‘interventions’. Players are not empowered, encouraged or trusted to make changes: they may be unable to because of the forty-two voices in their ears offering vital stats or shapes or ‘reminders, mate’.

This is a generic problem, for England and for the world that used to be just footie. The culture of game-management runs so deep and is so heavily reinforced by staff during matches that a sort of lethargy sinks in. Nobody wants to play badly or slowly or without any wit… but it happens. The game becomes beige – partly, admittedly because character (often meaning spunk or feistiness or that historic surge towards the gladitorial) is cancelled-out. Cheating and faking or exaggeration is so-o utterly ubiquitous that you can’t challenge: you can’t out-battle or physically dominate. And the gaffer won’t let you really surge. So there are almost no characters – no personalities – because there can be no expression from the heart: only the head. Or from strategies learned.

I accept, of course that the protection now offered to skilful players is a significant positive, as is the notable improvement in comfort on the ball, especially amongst defenders. But we need a balance, yes, between ‘sophistication’ and the things that make us roar? It may be that we can’t legislate for that… so again coaching becomes key.

My trusted Football People shouted most of this from our Whatsapp group, but narrowed-in on Southgate. We’ve all thought he’s been unable to liberate a very good group of players, for years. Tonight he’ll be hurting. Some of that is about how the game’s gone. But he is culpable, as are the players, and many fear he lacks the charisma or wit (or possibly the desire?) to stir up the camp.

Lastly, another barb from somewhere obscure, perhaps. What about the fans? What about entertaining/thrilling/energising the moment for the supporters? They love England and they love football and they’ve shelled out a huge wedge to pile over there in their thousands. Is there no obligation *at all* to show them some urgency? We’re not talking about reckless storming – not yet – but against ordinary teams, when the universe is shrieking that this is boring and ineffectual, is there no awareness of any responsibility to ‘go after ’em?’ Probably not. Because of that aforementioned delusion and the inescapable drip-feed that is game-management. Players really may be too self-absorbed (or too lost) to break out. The manager is responsible for that environment of fear and smotheration.

Below is my ‘report’ from the Serbia game. Hearing it remains relevant.

We’re all over-dosing, I suspect. Cricket, football, golf. Rain, sun, wind. Sleep. Drink. Swear. Fail to make sense but shout, anyway.

Us Lads were shouting about England again, last night. (We do know actually know football so if any of your opinions clash with what follows, then walk away, tutting). Do that early doors – as soon as you feel Southgate’s been slandered or tournament football’s been underestimated. You’re wrong and we’re right.

Swung in classical, predictable anger and disappointment awaaay from The Footie and into The Golf, in the hope that McIlroy could claim some triumph for lusty redemption and alacrity but erm, t’was not to be. We found yet filthier despoilment of the universal good. The poor bastard, having played with sensational coolness and consistency, on a gruelling track, against the gorgeous prostitute that is DeChambeau, missed TWO PUTTS that Aunty Nellie would have knocked in on a municipal in Belfast. It was absolutely Peak Trauma: life-shrivelling stuff. It was even worse than watching England.

Let’s deal with Southgate. You newbies may not know that Yours F Truly (and everybody I know and trust to be a Proper Football Human) has been saying the same kinda stuff about him for years. Fabulous politician and integrator/appreciator. Genuinely good man, as much by learning as by origins – and this may be another significant compliment. Almost certainly a tory-lite, by nature, but now gets most of the Essential Truths around multiculturalism, value and representation. Has grown manfully and generously into what he understands to be a ludicrously *important* and high-profile role. But football-wise? Mediocre.

The Southgate-era ‘tournament success’ is both real and flimsy, in the sense that England have been ordinary in both recent events. (Yup, I mean that). Played relatively little exciting and/or entertaining football: instincts have been to revert to holding/deadening the game/’absorbing pressure’… often against manifestly poor teams. Despite ‘going through’, fine players have looked stilted; one-dimensional; often one-paced.

Can of worms opened; so let’s deal with certain issues arising.

Yes I know that tournaments are often won by teams who have been as dull as ditch-water for much of the campaign: and that the *actual quality* of football carries less meaning for some than the end result. Shame, but true. Typically, teams plan or engineer a way through, rather than looking to out-play or thrash the opposition; partly because allegedly ‘there are no easy games’. (There are no easy games if you choose to contain; or accept the cat-and-mousery. There are no easy games if you shackle your fliers’ instincts to fly, pass, surge). There is a level of over-thinking – and therefore caution – because for all the inane talk of ‘positivity’ coaches fear the expression of pace and invention and threat.

Southgate is not alone in being very conscious of the flow towards choreography, organisation, shape. But his England are often a poor watch (and a real disappointment, given the players available) because he leans so heavily into that culture of game-management. Plus his substitutions are generally poor. Plus, despite picking young players and/or being aware of form, the energy of his teams can be flat. He’s a likeable but dull man, both in terms of lacking spark and being relatively slow-witted. Some of that may be reflected…

The ‘possession football’ his team adopted after an encouraging start against Serbia was nearly as dispiriting as the 4-5-1 default as soon as their pallid efforts gifted the opposition the ball. They were slow, they were boring, they were easy to defend against because they chose, actually to offer no threat. Just a long-term erosion of their opponent’s will.

You may say that nobody chooses to offer no threat and nobody chooses to play boring football. But Southgate’s Posse do it a fair bit, in tournaments. Foden – Foden! – was painfully insipid last night; Kane an irrelevance. Saka looked ace for about fifteen minutes. Then Serbia – Serbia! – were allowed to build and make incursions into a defence that the universe knows ain’t England’s strength. A draw looked likely for much of the second half.

Players and fans know when they’ve been crap. You can’t build confidence – or o-kaaaay, you’re unlikely to build confidence and momentum – if you play crap. And England were crap, against a very ordinary side that they should have walloped, given their personnel and the start they made.

Every one of the Proper Football People I spoke to after the game knows what tournaments are. What risk is. What proportionality is. Every one said they don’t want England to win this championship playing ‘like that’ – meaning with caution and ‘pragmatism.’ They all suspect Southgate of having poor instincts, particularly with regard to getting the best out of attacking talent. I’m with them. This England looks beige again: lacking leadership, lacking spirit and energy. Plainly there is brilliance within. I hope they find it.

In Question.

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It would be absurd, plainly, to suggest that there’s a significant mentality problem with the Lionesses: (duh, ‘they only went and won the cup’). But as a fan and follower it does feel like that, a little. Many of us, I think, slip into anger at the nervousness plaguing so many players and/or so many of the early minutes of a ‘typical’ England performance – or should that be non-performance. There are too many howlers.

Again, last night, Wiegman’s side under-achieved pretty extravagantly, being wasteful, slack, lacking purpose or focus. Bright was understandably (and I thought rightly) in there for her physicality and strength against strong and athletic players, but her first contribution was an embarrassment, and she – of all people – seemed to lack the gumption and the will to drive through the spreading nerves and get to her natural (if limited) game.

She was by no means the only one. If you were to drop into that cheap marks-out-of-ten thing, Bright might raise a 4, but who would be above 6, from last night? Williamson, certainly: she may have felt both angry and yes, embarrassed at the level of passing and control and execution around her. The skipper was the proverbial head and shoulders above her team-mates, being the only one playing genuinely heads-up football. (The other prime candidate, generally, would be Walsh, but she was another profound disappointment, disappearing back into the dullness of the most unproductive of water-carrying roles: everything square or ‘safe’; keep-ball but no product. Worse, it often felt that wasn’t making angles to receive passes – so being relatively unavailable, as well as unthreatening).

Russo was wonderfully game and mobile, as always, at least offering some confidence and that potential for linking play. But her ‘killer’ passes or strikes at goal were notably feeble, sadly. Mead and Hemp are excellent players, but their propensity for early nerves and subsequent, intermittent failure to execute even simple passes or heavily rehearsed moves appears reinforced. Stanway had a poor game, Toone was anonymous and despite the additional presence of Bright, the defence again looked vulnerable – again, particularly in central areas.

I get that they were playing France, one of the best sides in the world. But patently England are one of the best sides in the world; they just haven’t played like it, for a year or more.

So we have to question Wiegman as well her players. Job numero uno for any coach of any team is to breed a confident environment: get players happy and able to express. (I’m not thinking we’re seeing that – you? No). We’re dealing with abstracts and moods and personal/psychological stuff, here, so let’s not pretend that this is simple… or entirely manageable, even. And yet it’s still the first box that a manager or coach has to tick. And that manager or coach will be judged, forensically or through anger and disappointment, on the quality and fluency of their side *through his prism*. Are players are giving a fair account of themselves? Or is lack of something – let’s call it confidence – undermining what they do?

If we zoom in then tactical matters and matters of pattern or playing style reveal themselves. But that prior and wider view is a) often more honest – in the sense that it’s more widely felt and understood – and b) it’s hard to shake.

The team humour resonates with fans; they share the nervousness and actually share it around; in the stadium. In this weather-vane ethersphere, the Lionesses are currently mid relative-trough; starting badly and getting caught in cruel, infectious, debilitating cycles of mis-step and angst. Small breakouts into almost-football but then another unforced error. It’s horrible to watch. Coaches have to stem this by either re-invigorating confidences, or doing the shouty-sweary stuff, to get people focused – to get them ‘doing their f*cking jobs’.

Stanway’s job is to cover the ground and make passes. Toone similar – although she darts more and gets into scoring positions more. But she, too, is not making the passes. Bronze may be and may think she is a worldie beyond criticism. But her defending is slack, and given those talents and that force, she’s nowhere near to maxxing-out her influence.

Wiegman is entitled to be thinking about the unthinkable: switching Carter to right back, bringing the left-sided (and tough, and strongish dead-ball merchant, and pinger of decent passes) Greenwood back in – let’s face it, she should have played last night – and either dropping Bronze or pushing her forward. The midfield needs a re-fresh and England’s strongest defensive line-up might be Earps / Carter / Bright / Williamson / Greenwood. (Morgan looks a player but is maaybee too like Williamson: Bright is on a warning but she was the best player at the Euro’s and she does offer old-school defensive virtues, plus a threat from set-pieces – or should). Bronze, such is the scope of her game and her dynamism, could displace any of the three current midfielders and probably bring greater consistency and penetration. (Not saying this happens, but the prevailing out-of-sorts-ness needs a remedy).

We/you/I could write a book about Earps: possibly even about her first contact with the action, last night. Was she already crocked – or how much was she already crocked? She just got in a slightly ungainly position to strike the ball, left-footed, then ouch. Something popped or cracked a little, without any clogging from an onrushing striker. We may never know whether Ar Mary – whom we genuinely love, for her Proper Football Passion – has been a wee bit selfish, in hiding or minimising an injury, so as to stay in the side. (We’ve all done it, yes?)

That story may be a thing of beauty and intrigue… or relative ugliness and deceit. Her switch for the impressively calm-looking Hampton was not what any side would want. But did it reduce the effectiveness or flow of the Lionesses? No. They were bitty and sometimes raw bad in any case. Their prospects for qualification look ‘in question’. Wiegman has work to do.

Derby Day.

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Two hours forty-odd, from Brizzle. (No drizzle). Derby is cloudy and blustery – more so than I initially broadcast on my treble-fabulous, high-tech socials – so absolutely no surprise that Pakistan have chosen to have a chuck. Him with the shockingly white trainers just cursed the cold, out there, having just done an hour stint on the mic, in his flimsy jacket and slinky pants. It’s a very Derby day, in short. (No offence).

Sana is opening-up against Beaumont. Short wide one which the batter maaaybe should have cut away. Dot is wot the scorebook says. Third ball perhaps scoots a little low. Then a wide outside off. Weirdly intense quiet in the media centre and a quiet start to the game. 2 for 0. Small ground; smallish crowd. Jackets on. Then Baig – the best athlete and probably the best bowler on the visiting squad.

She bowls from underneath us… in the – I’ll just ask – *probably* the Racecourse End. (Nobody’s certain). She’s swinging it but wind assisted, no doubt. We have no replays in the press box so my error-count could be sky-high, today and my view is from a very fine fine-leg – so not baaad, but not my preferred straight-down-the-track lodging. Wind is from Baig’s right as she runs in again to Bouchier.

Early impressions are that a) it may be hard to stay consistent, for the seamers – breeze. And b) the track seems very true, so once you’re set, scoring may be do-able. Bouchier pumps a nice drive towards extra but Baig, in her floppy, judges the bounce well. Beaumont has her finchy-twitch-twirl going nicely: wrists going like they’re loaded up with bangles. She booms Sana straightish, timed, hard, at mid-on. Deserved runs but a taller fielder than the skipper, Dar, might have snaffled it. Beaumont is going at it, now – and middling. Three boundaries in quick succession. 34 for 0 after 7. Beaumont has 22, Bouchier 8.

Bouchier climbs into an over-full delivery from Baig. Towering… but four – one bounce.

Just as I’m starting to feel smug for that ‘once you’re set’ gambit, Bouchier is lbw, to Nashra. She made 17. The rather lovely – genuinely, in my experience – Dan Norcross wanders in and we find ourselves talking politics. I’m with him but we’ll spare you that. Heather Knight has joined Beaumont. Double bowling change. Umm-E-Hani bowling off-breaks from the (Most Likely) the Racecourse End. Not seeing turn but not ideally placed… and the bat is beaten. Ar Tammy is staying deep and hitting hard, repeatedly, for no reward, to the off-side circle.

Nashra Sundhu will bowl her second from the (Probably the) City End. Left arm, with some flight. First poor misfield gifts Knight a single. Quite possible that the England skip could go BIG, today. (*Fatal*). She has temeprament, yes?

Pleased to report that Kate Cross plays: enjoy watching her bowl. Knight misses out on a short, wide-ish one, from Umm-E-H, before sweeping her confidently square. Just the one. Run rate around 5, as we see out the 12th. One down, England.

One down until we have a review, that is. Beaumont is sweeping and missing… and out, lbw, to Umm-E-H. 61 for 2, as the notably imposing figure of Nat Sciver-Brunt stomps out there. She waits, deep, and emphatically cuts to the boundary. Nice. But two relative newcomers at the crease, now. Match status relatively even; up to England’s best and most resilient batters to go long and squish the visitor’s hopes. Drinks, at 15 overs. Bovril?

Certain amount of ‘finding the circle’ going on, from Knight – probably inevitably. She’s rocking back in relative comfort but not picking the gaps. But Umm-E-H bowls too many too full, and the England skipper drills classically for four, then forces a single to long on. Nida Dar will bowl herself, from the City End. No dramas.

Nat Sciver is showing her quality. She threads a beauty, straightish. Both she and Knight are reading length early, now, and looking to punish stray deliveries, which *do feature*. Oof. From nowhere, Knight is clumping Dar rather clumsily to mid-on. It comes quickly, but Umm-E-H puts it down. Not a gimme, but another opportunity missed – too many in the tour/series, already. Heather Knight is particularly well-equipped to bat long: don’t go offering her, of all people, a life.

Aliya Riaz is in from beneath us and bowling a shocker: drag-down. Escapes, almost unbelievably. England are steady rather than special, at 92 for 2, off 20. When the right handed seamer returns, Riaz fluffs a slower one for a wide, and then concedes the 100th run. It may be greyer out there. Conditions may well be playing into the lack of flow from both sides. It’s kinda gritty.

Fair play to the batters. They’re trying to *engineer* stuff. Reverses and hard running. But still a workwomanlike 107 – for 2 – off 23.

Now another stutter. Knight is caught behind, off a very fine edge. She made 29. Aliya Riaz the bowler. Capsey is in and defends a floaty yorker, before chopping away for a confident single. Feels like this could be an important hour (or whatever) for the young batter.

It’s brighter. And the outlook has shifted *elsewhere*. Sciver-Brunt – like everybody else, weirdly – had seemed untroubled but she’s also nicked one to the keeper. Gone for 37, leaving her side on 118 for 4. Riaz was again the bowler; despite appearing ‘mixed’, from this vantage-point, she has 2 for 12 off her 4 overs. Jones may need to continue her recent excellent form to conjure a decent total for the home side.

*Let’s add an ungenerous but realistic asterisk, here. We’ve seen enough of late to posit the argument that Pakistan are medium-likely to get blown away by the England bowling attack. (We may not, as either Tribal Brits or as neutrals *actually want that* to happen, but it’s a strongish possibility). So a good start from Pakistan is important to the quality of a) the day’s entertainment and b) the meaning or meaningfulness of the remaining games of the series. We want this competitive, for both sides. England need to build that culture-of-ruthlessness… and the visitors want to live at this elevated level. Capsey places Riaz between extra and mid-off, twice, stylishly, in the 30th over. But at 137 for 4 the run rate is considerably below 5: so England have major work to do.

It’s an open ground, this, with the breeze rattling through and around. Maybe we need to stress that as a factor in the day’s ‘errors’ and inconsistencies. The fielders are probably freezing. The batters are probably squinting and baring it.

Sundhu has changed ends. No dramas. Umm-E-Hani follows suit – now in from the City. Quietish. Capsey and Jones are no doubt receiving messages alongside their drinks, at 33 bowled. They’re both in – at 20 not out, apiece – and share a good level of dynamism. England need them to build… but boldly. They know that but the gaffer will surely be reinforcing that signal.

Lights have been on a while but the light is good. Low cloud and some of it leaden… but brightish beneath. Jones is fearlessly scuffing stuff away from middle stump, as she does. For all that the home side allegedly bat deep, these two are plainly the best bet for a strong and sustained attack, from England. And it will need to start reasonably promptly.

Sana maaay be plopping it there just a little but that one kept low. The bowler will be irritated by a further misfield at mid-on but it cost her just the one. 171 for 4 after 35. More from Ayeesha Zafar – her second from the Racecourse. A quick shuftie to my right confirms that Jones is going well again – strike rate just ticked past 100. Capsey is at 74.4. They have 36 and 29 respectively.

Zafar bowls two bad ‘uns on the trot: really could be suffering with the cool and the wind. Not heavily penalised but an offside wide not a great look for a slow bowler. And then another. (Low arm: bit of a mess). 185 for 4, England, off 38.

The question of par and/or what’s necessary are heavily convoluted by the threat of a batting capitulation from the visitors. And now by the wicket of Amy Jones, who departs, for 37, after top-edging Nida Dar. Hmm. The incoming Dean can bat but is not usually explosive. Capsey, despite her youth, may look/should look to take the lead.

Big Moment as England review an l.b.w.: no doubt sensing the drama the sky almost shockingly brightens. Dar the bowler; Capsey the batter. Missing by a mile. (No wonder the umpire twitched, before raising that finger). Wow. Really is incredibright, out there.

*Notes to universe*: this writing frenzy has to slow down. May be a ver-ry lopsided blog, this. And I need a walk – some air…

Capsey’s scoring rate has dropped off, a little. She cannot afford to let that happen. Maybe particularly with Dean at the other end. If Ecclestone was in, she would score quickly or get out. Dean is both better than that and less suited to the moment, arguably. 200 up in the 43rd over.

Fabulous hands as Dean invents one, through mid-wicket. Four, off Dar. Then the batter cuts square. (Waddooo I know?) But, hey, excellent and timely, for the hosts. Then she’s risking a single: word must have gone out. She’s only been in briefly but Dean’s scoring rate is almost double that of her partner. (120-odd to 60-something). Capsey cannot allow that to happen.

Okay. A cute reverse may lift Capsey’s energy. Nope. Dinks the next ball straight back to the bowler, Sundhu. A strangely disappointing 44.

216 for 6: Ecclestone. Run rate still under 5 – so not good enough… but may prove good enough. I’d be amazed if the coach hasn’t demanded 10 an over from the last 5. Ecclestone, without question, will be looking for boundaries. Immediately.

I have no issue with the fact that she is caught, immediately, dancing down and hitting Dar hard – to long on. We could argue that’s Capsey’s fault. Glenn.

This is another mixed performance, from England. A sensational bowling and fielding effort may not entirely gloss that over. It may work to Pakistan’s advantage that a) England will know they’ve under-achieved and b) conditions are almost certainly improved, for batters. Sunnier, anyway. 227 for 7, with 3 overs remaining.

Dar bowls Dean, who is swishing hard across the line. (Fair enough?) The batter made 20 from 21. Kate Cross joins Sarah Glenn. Singles. Then Cross – who hits nicely, straight – bolts one downtown for four. 233 with 2 to bowl.

Umm-E-Hani is in from the City End. Singles. Before Cross clonks straight at long-on. Gone, for 6. Bell is in, with 7 balls remaining. The fabulously tall seamer may have a real job to do, soonish – and how she copes with the cross-wind will be fascinating to watch. (She can hoop it… but *does bowl* legside wides). So a good test, for her.

Poor drop at long-off, from Sana, as Bell hoists. Then an optimistic(!?!) review (after no discernable appeal) for a caught behind. Joke. We’re done. England are 243 for 9 at close of innings.

OK. Fed and watered. But can I continue at the same relentless pace? No. It would be madness. Will relate the next hour or three at significantly lower revs – need to. Long, late-ish drive back to Brizzle incoming. Will try to strip this back to Meaningful Moments only.

Cross then Bell, for England. Irritated that Bell started with a legside wide. The wind is with her inswinger but You Had One Job. 9 for 0 after 2.

Two slips for Cross – partly because of that breeze. Sadaf Shamas and Sidra Amin the batters. Looking early doors as though the England bowlers are also battling the elements: wides and leg-byes already on the board. Bell has a slip in; she bounces Amin, then bowls another sharp sort one. Strikes glove (I think) but flies safe over Jones. Then a legside wide.

‘Patchy’ would be over-stating it but again the Shard-like One is only intermittently good. As you might expect, Cross is more consistent, has bowled three or four beauties – full and bold, leaving the batter late. Had ‘no luck’. The meteo-atmospheric mood – yup, made that up – has changed.Proper Cool, now and we’re really feeling those clouds. 37 for 0 after 7. Rate both these bowlers but are they world-beaters? Are they a world-beating opening pair? Possibly not.

Lols. With that, Bell has Sidra Amin caught behind, for 2. Fine ball – unclear if it was glove or edge. Who cares?

Next up? TWO legside wides – admittedly to a left-hander, coming around. Unacceptable. Lauren Bell *must have been* working on exactly this discipline for two years. Repeat that execution. Must have. If I’m the coach or bowling coach I’m thinking unacceptable. The keeper, Muneeba Ali, has joined Shamas.

Ecclestone, after 9 overs, from the city – later to be known as The Pavilion. Starts with a legside wide. 47 for 1 at the end of the powerplay. Enter Dean. She starts with a legside wide. Strikes me Jon Lewis, the England coach will not be happy – again – with the application (or otherwise) of the fundamentals. He was, you may remember, a top bowler and an elite bowling coach (for England) before accepting the wider remit. I thought Dean bowled poorly, overall, in the last game: she’s slung down too many rank deliveries again, tonight. As a group, Knight’s Posse have been ordinary, in two out of the three disciplines. 66 for 1, after 15.

I miss a wicket – guess why? (*Makes flushing noise*). Predictably, Ecclestone was the successful bowler, Sadif Shamas the unfortunate batter. She made 28. Ayeasha Zafar is not exactly inspiring confidence against the same, world-level spinner. Dean, meanwhile, has not expensive, per se. But for me she’s been repeatedly wayward. England need or will need better performances than this.

Ecclestone has been *all over* Zafar. Now she comprehensively bowls her. 79 for 3, off 19.4. At last: quality. Nidar Dar will have two balls to face. Or three: wide. Then Glenn will replace Dean. As so often, she lands the first one on middle. Oof. But then Dar sweeps her for four! Pakistan will certainly have majored on upping their intent in recent times. And this game is winnable – they have to believe that. The run rate is currently 4.1: they need 5.5.

Cross will have a dart from the City, or Pavilion End, or Somewhere. (She’s switched and is now coming at us, to the left-handed Muneeba). Cloud nestling lower, now – is more in the game. Two wides in the over, the second of which brings up the 100.

Glenn. Capsey dives over one, just a wee bit, and it passes through to the boundary.

General: this is feeling like another 6/10 performance, from England. A stack of those, under the current regime. Could be that Sciver-Brunt being at 50% – carrying some hurt, not bowling – is affecting the quality of execution of the whole team. Could be. But the group feels unfocused, asking questions of the leadership: we may suspect that something’s gone a bit stale. Either the coach can’t drive them or the group needs a further refresh. New captain? Raging bollocking (or equivalent?) More laughs?

Bell is back and bowling a great over. Deservedly gets a caught behind: Muneeba gone for a decent 28. There is a wide in there again but this has been a strong, committed, purposeful over from Bell. 118 for 4, now, after 28.

Dar is sweeping Glenn and missing. After view it’s clear that the ump was right – not out. Run rate creeeeping up towards 6. Light fading a touch. Despite some evident determination from Pakistan, could be things are beginning to tilt towards the home side. Perhaps?

Riaz only gets about a third of Bell but is extending in classical style, so clears the bowler and off it bundles. Four.

Drinks, then four dot balls from Glenn. But Riaz responds with a choice back-cut, to the boundary. Sweet. Ecclestone replaces Bell at the Pavilion ( By Consensus) End. Then Dean for Glenn.

Dar really connects but can only biff Dean out to Beaumont on the midwicket boundary. Important moment. 149 for 5. How much more have Pakistan got? Maybe not a huge amount. Dar made 26 and is replaced by Fatima Sana.

Ecclestone is confidently appealing: Sana in front. The batter immediately reviews. She’s out. (For entirely selfish reasons, a rush of wickets would be nice. Looking at a longish, late-ish drive if we go right to the wire: windows open job. Not that this is about me). T’other keeper, Najiha Alvi sees out the over – a wicket maiden. Run rate is now 6.4.

Coo. Dean is full to Riaz, who mis-times. Given on the park. Review. Out. 156 for 7. 19.17pm. (8Thinks: how quickly can we get this done?) Umm-E-Hani joins Alvi: they are both on nought. Ecclestone has bowled out at 26 for 3. Instrumental, as so often.

Cross from the (Pretty Emphatic, Now) Pavilion End. Bowls Hani -163 for 8. Then England review for a fine edge – or glove? Unconvincing and not out. Diana Baig has joined us. Suppose I could go jump in the car and leave you with the following:

another lukewarm win, for England Women.

But too big-hearted for that shoddy soundbite malarkey. Let’s see this out… even though ev-reee minute is… (g-nash, g-nash).

Crossy wants to finish this, probably for me. Bounces Baig, with Jones standing up. Smartly taken, by the keeper. The batter responds with a flukey edge and striking lofted drive (both four) before playing ‘twister’ to the next. Caught mid corkscrew off a bewildering leading edge (or something). Nine down, Sundhu in. Come on, Crossy girl!

We go into the 43rd over. Dean’s last. No dramas.

Cross has one more. Bowls a strange, loose bouncer at Alvi. And then oversteps. It’s all looking a bit tired. We go into the 45th. Glenn will bowl it.

She’s had back trouble. That first delivery won’t help it. Falls in a heap and bangs it in about halfway. Looks in some discomfort. Dusk settling in. We go on.

Surely Bell can end this? Appeals, but drifting down. Good, straight yorker – defended. Thick edge flies safe. No dramas. Now we’re seeing the lights. Glenn.

Wides, bringing the total for extras to 40. Top score.

Bell’s gonna get another go. As is Glenn. Alvi has 24, then 25, again asking questions about England’s lack of potency.

We go into the last over. It’s gone 8 pm. I could easily be disillusioned but I’m just a wee bit tired. Have enjoyed my Day at Derby. Thankyou to staff and comrades and always, always, despite trials, tribulations and missed ‘non-negotiables’, the players of both sides. Another lukewarm win, for England. Pakistan finish on 206 for 9.

An Imperfect Win.

~ bowlingatvincent ~ Leave a comment

So after an intense week of family care-stuff, I drove from just outside Grimsby, to Birmingham. Quite possibly feeling bit liberated… and certainly happy to ease through the under-rated Lincolnshire countryside, before by-passing Newark, Nottingham and the suburban metropoles-cluster where the East Midlands slides into the second city. A46 – much of which nods genially towards the buccolic – then dunno-what, as we hop roundabouts and the buildings close in. (M180 had been closed, so ‘scenic route it was). Enjoyed the drive – maybe especially the bit where google maps danced us round a pile-up – taking me through Diddly Squat-cum-Thingummy-Top, before seamlessly reconnecting with Plan A. Love maps and will always use them (if only to get that picture in my head), but strewth the electro-voices are good, these days. Weird note-to-universe: saw at least six deer carcasses in about a five mile stretch of dual carriageway. Big and broken.

Do love Edgbaston. Admit this is partly for the lush hospitality but it’s also got *views* – particularly from the media centre – and that exciting steepling-auditorium-thing going on. Plus, entirely fortuitously, the weather’s been bloody knockout nearly every time I’ve visited, even for Finals Days, in late September. Yesterday was again properly mint, in terms of meteorology and hosting. I will note again that numbers of interested media/press were low; if anything, lower than the average women’s gig. (Pretty extraordinary, I would have thought, for a season-starter, in the New Age, at a monumental venue, but hey, we’ve been here before). On the plus side it meant again that Yours F Truly could storm to the front of the mighty, vacant press box, unopposed, and grab The Best Seat in the House. Meaning I had a privileged view of England falling in a heap, in the first half-dozen overs. Funny old game.

What follows, as some of you will know, is a streamy carve-up of the life of the game. I fail to note Amy Jones’s four catches. I fail to ‘re-cap’ everybody’s stats. But it was a good day. Even the travel – next stop, Bristol – was okay.

Edgbaston and the Brum skyline. Tidy; every time. Today a bit hazy (1400 hours) but maybe this makes it feel that the Glorious Ents that circle us are getting closer – and therefore makes it better? The view Northwards(?) from the perennially splendid media centre is wrapped, laterally and gorgeously green, between the foreground, now buzzing with robotic, swarming black insects (England) and the green equivalents (Pakistan), and the steely towers beyond.

Athers is bawling out that Pakistan have a) won the toss and b) will bowl. Nidar Dar then Heather Knight take it in turns to do the earnest platitudes thing, as skippers do. Then we’re close to the action.

The England team is pretty much as expected. So at 14.10 Gibson and Bell are bowling close to maximum on a side pitch, in the knowledge that they’ll soon be getting a wee rest – hopefully. Eccleston, interestingly, is having a longish visualisation-session, wicket to wicket. (She bowled plenty, earlier). Bell goes in to get kitted-out and read the Mirror, whilst Charlie Dean joins Gibson to turn her arm over.

Muggy. Lots of benign cloud – so only intermittently blazing. Ground only about a tenth full, at 14.14.

My view of this is a worldie: love this stadium, and because the media suite is sparsely populated, muggins has had absolute freedom to choose the Best Seat in the House. No pleading; no arm-wrestle. I’m down. The. Strip. Looking forward to this one because it’s the first bash, as it were… and because – be honest – we don’t know that much about the opposition. Pakistan are simply a lower profile side than some of England’s recent opponents. All this is good. Bouchier and Wyatt will open for England. This feels like a good combination. (*Fatal*).

Ear-splitting racket – not from the disappointing crowd – as we approach the Mad Singeing Moment that is the players’ welcome. Ground about a third full, now.

Bouchier will face Waheeda Akhtar. A little early away-swing, first up. Medium pace. Third man and deep cover out. Third ball strays straight and Bouchier just gets something on it – four to fine leg. Then a disappointingly lame drive, mistimed and caught at mid-off. Bouchier will be furious and a little embarrassed. No need. Capsey is in at 4 for 1: first over.

Blimey. Next ball Capsey tries a cute, fine cut but only succeeds in inside-edging. Misses her stumps by about four angstroms. Decent start from the bowler – some swing then maybe straightening. Batters haven’t judged it convincingly, yet: or maybe it’s just been really good?

Iqbal bowls slow left arm at Wyatt, who leans forward and is off the mark. Then Capsey is watchful. Poor wide one is given as an extra – rightly. Wyatt, who had been bringing her bat noticeably behind her – round the corner, as it were – mistimes. Caught at mid-on. Achh. Another lame dismissal; for her and for Ingerland.

This is getting scary. Capsey tries to hoist one over mid-on but again misjudges either the pace or bounce – the ball did very little. Caught at mid-on. Three shockers, from England.

Kemp is in, at a humiliating 11 for 3. She swings loosely, with one hand, at a wide one. Even that was bit daft. Then the bowler beats her: twice. Goodish, from Akhtar, but not convinced she’s bowling the proverbial grenades, here. And when you think it can hardly get worse, for the hosts, we have a Sunday League run-out. Utterly, utterly shambolic, with Kemp running about four miles and Knight barely shifting.

11 for 4, off 2.5 overs at this point. Enter Amy Jones. She and Knight have more experience than most, but the former has not always been one for a crisis. (And this is a crisis).

More from Iqbal. Lower stands about half-full, right now:14.49. Finally, England batters feel the ball. 18 for 4 after 4.

Understandably, Akhtar is in again. Knight (or was it Jones?) edges out and up… and is fortunate to escape cover’s outstretched hand. (Jones, I think). Maybe have to give the bowler more credit. Jaffa beats Knight on the inside edge, now. Not quick, but some swing and cut, for the seamer.

Now Khan from the City End. Straight on it. Right Arm, decent energy… but she strays to leg… and gets away with it. Jones almost completely misses the next one; ball drops between her feet. Couple of minor fielding errors creeping in – just when Pakistan need to press. They will know England have a tendency to stay scrambled, when things move against them. *Capitalise!*

But poor from Khan. Two legside wides then one shoved too wide outside off. And now a third extra. Awful and bad timing: skipper Dar will be foaming. The over finishes with another sloppy effort; Jones can slash it away from her hip – a precious four. 28 for 4 off 6. Akhtar will bowl out from beneath us: appeal denied – missing to leg.

Jones carts her in front of square. Good connection – almost six. Then great running after a really lazy misfield. Two. (Brutal truth? As expected, the fielding has been ordinary, from Pakistan). Knight misses a gift – wide loosener from Shamim but then shows some form; lovely hands through the ball, lifting over extra. Then hit ver-ry hard past square leg. Better.

Knight has so often been The Rock. And there have been times when Jones’s dynamism has been a thing of beauty. Just a sign that these two might turn this carnage into a match. Both batters are in, suddenly; waiting and playing late or getting out the baseball bat. Hassan’s off-spin is dismissed twice with some confidence. 50 up, off 9 overs. Yup; better.

Jones slaps Shamim through mid-on for four more; then squarer. Ten off the over. Significant change in the timbre of the event, as we reach halfway. Now possible that England’s captain and vice-skipper are dragging them back towards parity or even control. What else have the visitors got? If they taper off these two batters might make them pay.

Hassan flights one, deep into the crease, then Jones *really has to scamper* for the single. Wild, highish full-toss is clubbed away safely but straight at long-off. 66 for 4 after 11. Competitive.

Dar’s first ball and Knight opts to reverse. BIG APPEAL. Given, after a painful wait, for Knight. She challenges. No bat, but outside off, and the batter survives. Off-stump guard, by the looks, for Jones, who reverses ridicu-fine(ly) and does well to race through for two, before thrashing a drag-down to the boundary at backward square. The bowling is what you might call gently-paced, giving Jones time to pick her spot. Four more wide of mid-on. Eleven from the over.

Iqbal from beneath us. Poor, wide ball is clumped behind square but the connection is off. Easy catch, but good work from Jones, who made 37 from 27 balls. Important, possibly crucial. In comes Gibson. Lovely hands – she waits and clips through third. Twice. Great start. 86 for 5 off 13. Six and a bit per over? Might be enough? (But guesswork – we just don’t know too much about the opposition, pretend though we might).

Lousy full-toss from Dar is cuffed away hard, taking Knight into her 30s. Another reverse is rather shockingly avoided by the fielder at point… but it doesn’t quite have the legs to reach the boundary. Khan will follow, running towards the city. She may be the quickest of the visitor’s bowlers.

She goes over-full and Knight biffs England past 100, over extra cover. In-out: solid enough strike. Another drive-ball is eased out towards long off, by Gibson. We haven’t seen that much of her, with the willow. This is a nice opportunity to really contribute. Extravagant slower ball, by Khan, is too wide. Given. The bowler over-compensates and Gibson goes to 15 from 6 by swivelling and belting it behind square leg. 111 for 5 off 15. England will want (and might get) 160-plus. It’s guesswork, as we’ve said, but feels likely that will be enough – maybe plenty. *Fatal revisited* but decent odds on England bowling Pakistan out.

Hassan, from the City End. Knight is dancing, now – and clouting. Half-stop, from extra. Dreadful drag-down – one of those that’s so-o slow and so-o bad it’s hard to time – is clubbed over mid-wicket, but Knight falls, next ball, skying to mid-on. Cruelly, she’s gone for 49. Ecclestone saunters out… and can pat a poor full-toss over mid-on’s bonce. Ridicu-gift. 123 for 6 with 4 remaining.

Fair play. Khan bowls two successive, deep, beautiful yorkers at Ecclestone. But this is risky territory (going thisss full) and the batter carve-hoists her over mid-off. England’s star spinner has plainly worked hard at her batting, having previously been a willing slugger. Now she’s better than that. She is, however, fortunate to escape with a lose-ish clip that hangs long enough to be a regulation catch. Dropped. Gibson, meanwhile is drilling a beaut through the circle. She is 26 from 11: nice cameo. With two overs remaining mid 160s feels likely. England have 142 for 6, at this point.

Khan has bowled with commendable edge, for little reward. Full and quickish. Gibson times her impressively through square leg, and the bowler responds with a soft, slow one. Good cricket from both. Ecclestone, like so many, stands tall with an off-stump guard: body open. Khan errs, too full and to leg, and the batter clips stylishly, using the pace, over square leg.

Even the mis-hits are finding the rope. High intensity and good running from England – Gibson making something of a mockery of the early batting. Reverse sweeps are being timed; drives are being timed. 163 for 6 it is. Innings closed. Meaning excellent comeback… but also noting that horrid beginning. Quick coffee? Don’t mind if I do. OOOooh. Salted caramel ice-cream!!

Bell is in, from the city. Bowling a massive legside wide, then over-compensating, a little. Then slipping again, to leg. Pace is up – or seems it – but plainly she can’t offer freebies. Nor can Bell bowl a good line but toooo full. When she does, she is push-driven straight, for four. Followed by a classical stroke out through cover. Twelve from the over – so poor, from the strike bowler. Big fan but she has to drop onto old-school line and length – allowing for those booming inswingers, if they come. (They didn’t).

Gibson will follow. She starts with a highish full-toss, which the bowler fields. Her inswinger is overdone: cuffed away easily but just for a single. England expects (and this bloggist expects) England to out-field their opponents but they prob’ly need to out-bowl them, too, eh? Dean next, from the City End.

Decent ball, poor misfield from Wyatt, of all people. Then Ameen sweeps expertly, before repeating but missing. Big shout – looked plum – and review. Gone for 9, from 6. (Feroza is the other opener. She has 12 off 9). 24 for 1, off 3.

Gibson will bowl a second. Touch full, perhaps, but not much in that. Shamas leans forward and into it and the ball threads the circle. Nice. She follows that with an aerial drive and a neat clip off the toes – both for four, bolting to 17 off 6, with another clean strike through cover. Wow. Then four more behind point. Pakistan well ahead, early-doors, not so much because England have bowled badly – not quite – but because the home side were bloody awful with the bat, in the opening phase. That and Pakistan have started brightly.

Dean is rhythmic and is turning that key. She nearly has some reward – Gibson at a stretch almost pocketing a sharp, teasing chance. Bell changes ends to bowl from under my nose (cheers Lauren!) So I have a fabulous view of two fine deliveries, the second of which draws an error from Feroza. Jones dives athletically and instinctively to her left, to take a fine tickle. 50 for 2, now, Pakistan. Ali has joined Shamas, who has 21 off 10. Improved over from Bell, but to their credit, the batters have still taken her for runs. 57 for 2 off 6 puts them in charge.

Ecclestone may, as so often, be key. (Possibly in tandem with Glenn?) She is in from the city. Six from the over. Glenn next.

Loose fielding from Dean costs a single. Then Bouchier almost fails to gather, in the deep – not great. But Glenn draws another rather tame error; Ali getting a weird leading-edge flip into the gloves. 66 for 3. Dar boldly but convincingly sweeps her first delivery off middle stick. A safe single.

Wow. Knight goes down in weekly instalments then the boundary rider flops over the ball. Rank and unacceptable. Whatever happens, this is a ver-ry mixed performance from England. 72 for 3 off 11. But we have a game, alright.

I rate Glenn. Partly because I know from personal experience how tough it is to bowl consistent leggies using ‘a lot of wrist’. She has another appeal for lb, but Dar has made contact. On we go. Then the Pakistan captain drills her neatly enough out to Wyatt, on the extra cover boundary. Just the one. A wee drink, at the half-way, with the visitors on 77 for 3. (England were 66 for 4 off 11). Dean will bowl the eleventh, from the City End.

Another ouch. Fairly feeble run-out. Shamas made 35 off 24, so helpful contribution but that just felt tooo unnecessary, especially given the match situation. (You’re ahead; just stay focussed and play within yourselves. This is not an urgent situation. Don’t make it that way).

Dar should know better. She sweeps straight out to Bouchier – one of England’s best outfielders – and is caught: Glenn the bowler. Almost immediately, England are reviewing, with some confidence. Umpires call: tight, for leg stump, in my view. A further review, for a fine nick behind. (Surely Jones must know(?)… but she wasn’t *that convincing*). Could be a tiny feather on the toe-end(?) Not out, but Glenn has 2 for 11 off 3 overs, so far. Pakistan are 85 for 5 off 12. The game has narrowed, to say the least. Ecclestone, from the city. Muggy sunlight.

I reach for my phone and Ecclestone inevitably claims another, putting the visitors in some strife. Suddenly 6 down. Feels bit like the contest is dying. The Spin Twins – plus Dean, to be fair – have turned this around. Time for Bell to bring some slower-ball-back-of-the-hand wotsits. And a short one, which Khan can only fend away, high on the bat. Escapes.

The Shard is a brilliant at this high-tariff delivery and it gets in the heads of most batters. The extravagant variations draw another mis-hit – this time high and spiralling out to deep extra. Wyatt is waiting and then charging in. (That earlier error notwithstanding) she is as good as anybody out there. Racing in – but balanced – and then diving, Wyatt snaffles it. It’s a highlight of the day.

But the game is moving on, irrevocably, surely, towards a home win. Glenn has changed ends but the result is the same: a wicket. Hassan is out for nought. 89 for 8. Then for 9. Glenn bowls Akhtar for no score. That would be 4 for 12 off her overs, for England’s outstanding leg-spinner.

Gibson may be hoping and even expecting to finish this promptly, but Khan smashes her powerfully through extra for a defiant four. Great stuff. Iqbal is a leftie. Can she extend the resistance? She dabs the first one away.

Dean, from the City End. Cloudier and cooler. Young, female voices to my left, below. Wide ball. An appeal – but it surely pitched outside leg? Freebie: England review. No bat… and closer to that leg stick than I thought ‘live’, but not out, nonetheless. There are two out on the legside boundary but Iqbal clumps it safely and will claim four. We go into the 18th over. Ecclestone will bowl it.

Khan hits her hard, through extra cover, impressively so. The ground’s lower stands have never been more than about 60% full, I reckon. (As I say this, the attendance is confirmed at 12, 241). But it’s lovely to hear loud, excited female voices underneath the media centre. They’ll surely have loved this?

With that, Bell strikes. Iqbal may have been a bit intimidated by the sight of the tall quick slamming it down at her – who knows? The batter can only fend loopily to point. Bell finishes with 3 for 22 from 3.2 overs, so a decent return.

A contemplative in-breath or two. Enjoyable. Mixed. Bit less Edgbaston Oomph than I expected, in terms of The Event. But another step forward in terms of The Profile of the Women’s Game.

You/me/somebody might argue that England’s level was below where we might expect them to be – I don’t think that’s an unreasonable conclusion. They were shambolic, against good but not life-threatening bowling, through the powerplay and beyond. Knight and Jones and Gibson, pleasingly, rescued the batting effort and then their world-level spinners did the rest. Good to see Bell claim wickets but she remains less laser-focussed than she needs to be, at the beginning of an innings. So an imperfect win.

Tribal risk.

~ bowlingatvincent ~ Leave a comment

Satdee Night’s alright for something. But first we have the afternooon, where we watch mighty Clarby Road FC take on Wdig (Goodwick, to you lot) in the Pembrokeshire Senior Cup. Eleven hundred people there – yes, you read that right – to see the strong favourites from the North roll over the Welsh-speaking farmers from the Preselis. Only dieu, dieu, that’s not what happened.

I have to declare an interest: my daughter’s fella was playing centre-back, for Clarbeston. He was plainly playing hurt (so maybe heroically) but that didn’t stop him volleying in the first goal, during an early foray into the six yard box, at a corner. ‘Oof’, said the crowd – in two languages at least. Whilst I wondered how best to make my claim for an assist.

There were kids with drums, and families and yes, a few dogs. A nine year-old hardman challenged me as I wandered behind the goal, through the Clarby Massive: “Clarbee or Goodwick?” Edgy. Thank gawd I was able to provide a prompt-enough lifesaving retort, reinforced with a cheesy-but-comradely raising of the fist, confirming tenuous loyalty to the Farmer-zone. Then the more I cruised around the ground, the more I liked the overdue conversations with colleagues in footie and cricket and the fabulous ridicu-tribalism. Old blokes; young girls; badges and blazers and that sideways shuffling that so often signals nerves. Lots of folks in on this – so yeh – nervous.

The venerable Fraser Watson – top fella and local/national journo – has written of The Meaning of this stuff (in fact, of this particular event) so unusually I’ll swerve most of that. Despite my social-occasioning it was clear that not just players and ‘staff’ at the clubs were bristling with intensity: most of the extant universe was. Mr Walton, formerly of Solva AFC – so without hands in the fire of this thing but understanding of it – was by contrast able to waft abart and enjoy; which he did.

Bridge Meadow is Pembrokeshire’s Bernabeu, minus the cosmic city views and some of the other guff. Just a hint or two of rolling undulations about the pitch, which is/was better than most recreational jobs – as it should be, what with Haverfordwest being a fixture in the largely semi-pro Ardal League. Netting, behind both goals. A closed stand, where seats are either damaged or unsafe. Stewards and two seven foot nine blokes doing security around the ground and at the clubhouse door. Hot dogs. But mainly people, catching up; stirring, or not. Circling – or ovalling? – I saw everybody I’ve ever met, at least four times

Clarby went and won it – a hearty, competitive game with plenty spice – by three goals to two. They deserved it, meaning Goodwick should and will be disappointed, for not expressing their widely-recognised quality. (Head-up football *at a premium*, as they say). As so often, nerves and physicality and lack of composure blunted the allegedly better side’s capacity to express. Clarbeston Road found the grit and (just about) the discipline to not only see it through, but walk away with that hugely gratifying sense – that luxury in the feels – that it was their lot that played more of the football.

Meanwhile, my gurl’s fella’s sister was at fly-half for Wales, in the Six Nations. Her mum confirmed to us, on one of our many sunny perambulations, that they too had won: finally. Their single victory of another campaign that had felt closer to concerning than encouraging.

But one of the seminal Sports Moment’s of the weekend (for your scribe, obvs) landed about twenty-four hours after this, when I caught up with brief highlights via BBC iplayer. These included Ioan Cunningham – the Wales coach – openly blubbing at the final whistle. Relief and emotion and powerful, powerful angst: shed, I hope, in a moment that really should have been private. Wales – even this Wales – probably should have beaten Italy, at home, and they did. He/they still felt the ignominy of the wooden spoon. There was obviously some Big Unseen Stuff in play for the fella and I felt for the guy.

Muggins had been one of many keyboard warriors that (without, from memory, naming him) suggested ‘bad coaching’ over several years had been at least partly responsible for Wales women’s rugby remaining so far behind. (I was, in fairness, also remembering previous incumbents but the sharpness of my attack felt unwise – maybe be even unfair or ignorant – in the face of Cunningham’s outpouring of grief/joy/relief).

Wales Women are understandably uncompetitive with England. Fair enough. But my beef and my point was that they should be organised and prepared enough to compete with Scotland and Ireland – especially given that the players’ commitment does not appear to be at issue. Speaking as a fan, like a fan, as I do, I had hoped to call out that perceived under-achievement.

Mostly I think this modus-wotsits is legit: I guess I’m trusting that anyone daft enough to read me gets that this is not journalism; it has more freedom and more risk than that; for better, for worse.

Learning is good.

~ bowlingatvincent ~ Leave a comment

It’s gonna be a glo-o-orious da-a-aay. For me, you and Thom Yorke, probably. But maybe bit conflicted for our friends at the local cricketmob, who have just put back the first two weeks of the season, twenty-four hours before this prolonged blast of windy sunnystuff kicks in. Hey-ho. Funny old game.

Meanwhile, I’m spending all my money on cars – old, unfortunately, not new. Have somehow (albeit medium-temporarily, I hope) dropped into the Struggling Artist category, having forked-out again to indulge another self-published book. Should know better. Have been shocking at this capitalism lark all my freaking life but few things have suddenly conspired and yeh, am back worrying about buying son a pint or whether or not I should go down the caff for a restorative chat with a human, or a coffee. Makes me sad and makes me angry.

But this self-pity will pass; in part because I absolutely know which things have real value; in part because it won’t be long before a wedge of the see-me-through variety lands. Goddabe within a year. Plus cricket and walking and writing kaleidoscopic cobblers will keep me going. I am grounded and tough and hold top-notch CSE’s in living-on-the-cheap and witless defiance.

Still loving coaching on the national pathway. Great kids and overwhelmingly supportive families; outstanding colleagues to coach with or under. First *proper tingles* starting up, after an enjoyable but occasionally frost-bitten winter of indoor nets, as that first selection of the year launches into the Whatsapposphere. Midweek game may even happen, now that the monsoons have abated. Would be fabulous.

The limbs are currently willing, so it’s feasible that I may even play for three different sides, this year: local club, the mighty Pembs Seniors and maaaybee even one of the Wales Oldies representative sides. (Weird and embarrassing truth is some of this may be contingent upon money, as well as the increasing likelihood of mechanical breakdown – whether this be mine or the motor’s). Travel and socials are a wonder of the sporting realm, of course, but both imply expenditure. It may be hard to find or justify – but don’t tell the lads that.

Senior cricket in particular has been every bit as wonderful and daft and enriching and daft as you could ever imagine. Great blokes; good players; just oldish. Ploughing on, for now, under the delusion that the Gods of Happiness and Reward might trump the Get Real, Donkey cohort: it’s nailed-on that pain or pathway coaching will offer a break at some stage.

I don’t agree with everything that happens around our national junior pathway but I quite like the idea of players/families being able to submit video evidence as a sort of pre-trial gambit. (Dislike the word ‘trial’ but there’s no escaping the need to select, as county pathways sharpen towards excellence. Do I need to note that as someone who spent a decade or so as a Community Coach, I get that *opportunities* of a different sort are every bit as important as what the Candidates are doing?) Wee videos, shot by mum or dad on a phone, really might be a way of widening access (and not missing Real Players!) Believe counties in the Midlands piloted this idea a year or two ago: happy that our lot are accepting submissions of this kind for 13 year-olds and above.

Cricket does have particular issues to do with class/money/access/comfort-in-the-environment. I’m hoping that video can winkle open ways in for individuals who might not otherwise get their moment.

Probably indiscreet to say too much about the groups I’m involved with… but they tend to be junior juniors. So I can be loose and friendly and welcoming: the straight drive ain’t exactly incidental, but Priority Numero Uno is to make this a place these young humans wanna be. Even on a regional pathway. Sure it might be true that (depending on your catchment) a good number of the players coming in are club level, rather than ‘regional players’ but this only increases the imperative to get them confident.

We try to make it a giggle – unashamedly. Then have *friendly words* about shapes or strategies. We know what The Fundamentals are so maybe they get lots of goes at x and y. Lots of goes – feeling; adjusting; finding stuff – quite possibly un-instructed. Until some things are grooved, until there are instincts/movements which may or may not be the same (or as valuable as) understandings. The articulation of things can maybe come after the exercise or practice of things.

This week’s soundbite for coaches appears to be something about ‘making good shapes’: I can live with that. Are you seeing or feeling that shape, Johnnie? Are you, Sara? Does it feel balanced – do you feel like you can do it forever and ever, or hold that pose… and give the bowler a cheesy grin? Good.

Coaches are all different, thank god. It’s not natural for all of us to project Friendly Comedian-dom. I do reckon, though, that mostly, for small earthlings, we need to avoid the dry and the preachy. Preach enthusiasm – or preach with enthusiasm, maybe – but be open about the idea that everything depends. Depends upon whether they’re Jos Buttler. Depends whether they can time things, outrageously. Depends on their body-shapes and levels of fluency at *this stage of their development*. You may be coaching a genius or a clown. Both probably need to have lots of goes to find what works: ask good questions, offer your things to consider. Take care not to make them sound like instructions – they may know better than you!

One of the fellas coaching alongside is a) top and b) a former headteacher. (They’re all top but we two have spoken about modes of learning). We both like the idea of offering a whole lot of responsibility over to the kids, letting them take charge: once they’ve settled; once we’ve done drill z a couple of times, maybe. Junior juniors can sort out a meaningful practice on the theme of (say) attacking in the vee. You can ask them to organise it. They can talk or watch their mates; they can find a way. You can make it explicit that the coaches ‘are stepping out of this for fifteen minutes’ but that they/you are hoping for productive and helpful practice.

Watch for a bit. Review and compliment and ask more questions: ‘what kind of feed can you use? What kind of shot do we think we’re looking at, here? Oh – attacking – yeh, we did say that. Does that mean on the ground or aerial – do we know what aerial means? Both? Ok. So how about you decide whether in the next few minutes you’re going to go BIG, for six, or drill that baybee hard past the bowler for four. But fellas we are attacking, yes?’

We’ve done this. It’s worked. The kids have done minimal faffing abart. Typically they’ve tried hard to make it work as an exercise but maybe struggled to provide helpful feeds. Maybe talk about that: offer reminder about drop feed/bobble feed options. Stress that it’s important to help out your team-mates. They can’t practice this if the feed is two feet down leg. So part of being a player is helping your mates get better, yes? Our experience has been that a) they can make this work and b) it’s probably a very good way to learn.

Learning is good. MOT’s, meanwhile, are…

‘Ank Marvin: & traditions like Easter.

~ bowlingatvincent ~ Leave a comment

Ah the voices. In my head, broiling or brewing or maybe just a chemical reaction to the (breaking) toast or full-on sausage sarny issue swishing abart in me stomach. Should be writing on cricket – Glam and the boy Northeast. No! Goddabee United! Or maybe drop back into women’s cricket mode? Bouchier and the Shawly-Redemptive Amy Jones Not-Shanking-to-the-Circle thing? Or maybe the whole lot? Or more wisely (don’t be daft) *not writing at all* while everything remains a mess.

*Nips to kitchen. Pricks bangers.*

Hunger and too much sport. These are the great tormentors. Caffling-up our very souls, I tell you – or at least competing with the crap wifi to undermine our otherwise serene (s)elective processes. Eng Women in NZ. Town in the mire. Glammy in dreamland. Celtic-Rangers. Paree-Roubaix. United in hysterical disarray. Days – longer days! – melting into Eastery, chocolatey night and then back into febrile couch-surfing. Our choices once again cruelly undermined by a heathenfest of opportunity. What day is it, anyway? Did I really do all that chocolate?

Sometime in the last x hours I was watching England lose. Until 3 am closed in around me and then socials kicked in – or maybe sleep – until a rare, spirited spurt of seamlessly decent wifi made the Old Firm possible, then MU, then bits of Tottingham. And a nod or three hundred towards Lords. Via that cycling madness. So if you’ve landed here expecting ‘clarity’ best hold on tight.

The England Women tour of Kiwiville is done. Successful, largely, in the sense that both legs – T20 and 50 over – registered a W. (Hate or o-kaaay dislike that single-letter descriptor, by the way: surely insinuated in to Proper Sport by slick graph-competent anti-souls, yes?) Batting collapses still a concern but significant positives include the emergence of Bouchier as a rival or foil to Dunkley – she’s ‘classier’ and a better athlete – and further evidence that England simply have the quality to be more dynamic than ‘chasing pack’ nations like the White Ferns, *at this stage*. (I include that qualification a) to snuff out the dangers of International Incident and b) because it’s mischievously true). On.

Jones is the other story, I suppose. Viewed by many as the best keeper in the women’s game and a stylish and clean striker of the ball – can and does score relatively quickly at 6 or 7. But for me, historically scrambled faaar too often and therefore fortunate to have retained her place in the side: lack of genuine alternatives and her work behind the sticks have kept her in there. Now three fine knocks, in succession and under the cosh, have rendered the AJ Question irrelevant. She’s been lucky… but also brilliant on this tour.

Seen New Zealand live (over here) a certain amount over the last couple of years. They’re getting there; look generally competitive in the field and have bowlers in Amelia Kerr, Rowe and Tahuhu and the two Fern Icons Bates and Devine still provide quality. At times, however, their lack of dynamism was again painfully clear. This will be and should be their signal disappointment from this series: that they were *so obviously* unable to accelerate an innings. Sure, England take some credit for this – good bowling. But the White Ferns were consistently a bit lame when they had to be (had to be!) charging. They will provide the occasional upset but must find some boom, to compete.

Glam is 100 miles away from where I live, in the west of the west. This is my excuse for being a lame supporter. No chance would I go 250-odd to Lords for their opener, so I missed the historic knock from Northeast. Loved seeing posts from friends in the ground, on the Twitters. A total over 600 in the first wallop? We’ll take that – even if subsequent days ease to a ‘no-result’ scenario.

For the first time in living memory I watched a lump of the Old Firm Derby. Incredible and hilarious. And intense, as always. Sunday League defending (see more, below) but some thrilling attacks. *That noise* raised to traditionally awesome levels: scary, inspiring, violent, unforgiving. A wildish, drawn romp with a daftish lap of celebration led by the Rangers gaffer, who took performative misunderstanding to yet another high. #Legend.

And so to MU ‘Pool, via the Paris-Roubaix, which I vowed to watch right through, after the god that is van der Poel scarpered off with almost 60k to suffer. (I *did* watch right through, knowing that I’d miss a wee chunk of the shamateurs of Manchester). On cobbles, through mud and tunnels of deranged ‘supporters’, the World Champ blasted the rest into distant mediocrity, winning by three minutes, on his own, in a display of elite-level guts, control, power and discipline that your average Premier League footballer could neither comprehend nor match. This was a flawless execution: a stunning expression of superior, hard-won gifts. (Hope to god that he’s doing this clean).

Meanwhile at Old Trafford, United continued with their own distant mediocrity, being repeatedly exposed by this goodish but not Peak Scouse-level Liverpool. Sure, United had their moments, even in a first half where the visitors might have scored four, but for lack of completion from Diaz (this we expect?) and a strangely fuzzy Mo Salah. Garnacho had an early goal struck from the record but Klopp’s raging late in the half plainly reflected the mis-match and the threat of another massacre conspiring/unpeeling towards points shared or dropped.

So it turned out. Fernandes was surly, ineffective and repeatedly shockingly wasteful but he scored a worldie. Mainoo was in and out but he scored a worldie. Salah kicked the ball straight and with conviction once, from the penalty spot, for a late equaliser.

For United the issues run on, to the point where Ten Hag must and surely will go. He’s not entirely at fault for players being woefully slack at closing down/tracking/being watchful. But he is palpably responsible for team shape and the disciplines around that. His players are not good enough – most of them. The gaffer has not been smart or tough or inspiring enough to develop or deliver the matrix.

His side remain shapeless in nearly every sense. Non-negotiables remain un-ticked. They are a million miles – still – from producing performances. Any half-decent side can play through them at will.

Klopp was incandescent on 40 minutes because United were so pitifully vulnerable and yet somehow remained in the game. The home team’s three central defenders were constantly over-run, almost incredibly, both from the flanks and through the middle of the park, where Fernandes and Mainoo barely got a foot in. Diaz and Darwin Nunes pace and movement was killing them… but then not.

The stats spoke loudly again about how many strikes on goal Manchester United concede, week after week. Even if they were a fabulous side going forward, this just doesn’t work. (And they’re not).

Eighteen months ago Rashford may have been the most electrifying striker in Europe: now he’s in his own world of pain and disillusionment. Garnacho remains a prospect – Hojlund too. The midfield is so dysfunctional it’s hard to name it. There have been, no doubt, about eight zillion man-hours expended on the training ground about defending – and maybe particularly defending counter-attacks. And United are still absolutely shite at it. So I’ve been relatively supportive of Ten Hag. But now he must go… and the squad must be gutted all over again.

Beautiful Games: book launch.

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Included below; the audio from our Beautiful games book launch, at The Mariners, Nolton Haven, Pembs, on Sat 23rd March 2024.

Hosted by my good friend the treble-fabulous Mr Stephen Hedges, it features some daft bloke warbling about sport and the Meaning of Everything – as he does – plus some background noises and a wee bit of ambient pre-amble. Would’ve *really loved* to include the genuinely brilliant and hugely generous #pubchat that immediately followed the talk, but certain individuals shared some personal stuff about family experiences that it just wouldn’t have been right to include. So cut.

We had intended that the aforementioned #pubchat would dig in to and expand upon the Waltonian propositions… and it certainly did that. Some concerns were raised about school experiences in activity needing to ‘mirror real life’ rather than ‘just look to cater for all’. I hear that argument, and respect the need for (for example) competitive sport. I grew up – and I do mean grew up – through competitive sport, where (amongst other things) I learned to value guys in my teams who found little support or encouragement elsewhere, because they were either fully-fledged or aspiring football hooligans. Don’t ask them to spell much, or do their French homework but stick ’em on a sports field and watch the fekkers fly. Suddenly brilliant; suddenly selfless; suddenly valuable. I get how magnificent organised sport can be, for shedloads of reasons including that one.

But only about 20% of schoolkids are getting it: or only about 20% are developing a culture of lifelong activity. Twenty per cent. This means that BIG THINGS ARE IN PLAY. It means that (without sacrificing opportunities for ‘organised sport’) we have to include everyone – get everyone active.

The speech and the book then, have to come over all philosophical. I think there are moral imperatives in play as well as economic arguments: society cannot afford for zillions of people to be physically or mentally un-healthy. We all deserve a lump of happiness and the wider clan needs us to be productive. It’s a no-brainer that activity *nearly always supports* health. Great, uplifting, compelling experiences in Physical Education for young people can be personally transformative, can maybe lift where we’re at, as individuals, on the Happiness Index.

I want all of it – generous and ‘holistic’ approaches to PE, throughout the age-groups, and fabulous recreational sports and/or pathways. Change the thinking and invest in all of it. (Surely we’re sliding somewhere quite dark, if we don’t?)

There are political and philosophical notions we just can’t duck out of. My argument, I suppose, is that we need to prioritise and invest in wellness, not maxxing-out on profits. Because every one of us is valuable.

After the verbals I include a transcript of my speech.

BOOK LAUNCH.

Enough already of this welcome and adoration. It can’t last. For as sure as eggs are eggs… and beans are beans… and brown sauce is better than red, on bangers and bacon, you will desert me. For we are fickle, are we not? We ‘like’ everything but then move on, to the next story – the next poor, unfortunate target for our fleeting attention. I’m a realist, friends. There’ll be a lol-tastic notification coming along any minute – over here; over there – cats on the Twitters; dancers on the twick-twocks – and my moment in the spotlight will be gone.

I blame the Kardashians – I blame the Kardashians for everything – just ask the kids. Pouting. Potholes on the A40. Climate Change. Footballers diving and Raducanu changing coaches every twenty minutes. I blame the Kardashians. Cold toast; hot – fuck me, burning hot – Cornish pasties; V.A.R.; 30p Lee; too many adverts spoiling yer telly. I blame the Kardashians.

Surprisingly however, Beautiful Games is not the work of an embittered old bloke who can’t pout. The closest it gets to Worldly Cynicism is maybe through the introductory quote, from Naomi Klein:

‘Everywhere we look we find “binaries where thinking once existed.”

I kinda like that, because it makes me sound brainy. To be honest I haven’t the faintest idea what she’s onnabout but it seemed a good idea to have something wordy and philosophical in the first few pages. The rest is bollocks about Ford Escorts and beer. And sport.

‘Everywhere we look we find “binaries where thinking once existed”. Wish I’d said that. Instead I said

on P xii “I really want this book to be explainer-lite. Can’t stand the idea that the dots have to be joined/profundities unpicked for a readership that is thereby presumed to be brain-dead: insulting bollocks… (more)… not everything will be revealed”.

I also say “this book, whilst wading through the baggage of a middle-aged white guy, will be anti-bigotry. Believe it or not. Its purpose is to celebrate personal and universal stuff about activity. Not sure that can be done without advocating for those damp essentials love and understanding”.

But what the feck does that mean?!?

Glad you asked. Let me have a thrash at this. The book is in three sections: the first is called ‘Formations’ because it digs into things that may have made me… but which also relate, surely, to all of us? Family; environment; good energies; trauma or tragedy.

So ‘Formations’ is Big Relatable Stories. There’s stuff about ‘cannonballs’ – the heavy, soapy, brown-leather footballs we used to head, as kids, even though they weighed about twelve tons. There’s stuff about travelling to Canada dressed as Elvis Costello, and the hairs in my nostrils freezing as we stepped off the plane into the North American winter – at minus 26. (Fact). Then about playing indoor soccer with mad Italians and some geezer pulling a large hairy knife on my best mate in a nightclub in Thunder Bay. Exactly the kind of thing we’ve all experienced, yes?

Look, there is family, adventure and growth and maaaybee one of the central themes of the book, poisons in the ether – machismo; toughness; the ever-present fraudulence that is ‘masculinity.’ But also the wonder of sport and camaraderie and the craic. So the wild, contradictory kaleidoscope that is life… as a bloke(?)… or (know what?) however we may identify.

It’s no accident that chapter one – Unwise Tendencies – is about the violent homophobia that was everywhere, in our childhoods. I may need to come out as boringly, resolutely straight at this point, but that prejudice (in the North of England, in the 60s/70s) had a massive, conditioning effect on how I was and who I became. I wonder if it might be something of a surprise to many of you to discover *how much* the book has to say about blokeyness and ‘strength’ and pressures around behaviour. Let me read you something on this – true story:

Reading from P4 …”Much of the rich hinterland around this…

and no, I don’t know what that means either”.

I don’t happen to be gay… but I/we who were skinny or medium-brainy or had some facility for French or English Lit were in mortal danger, at school and beyond. I understand this excruciatingly poisonous, mind-boggingly pervasive plane of enlightenment marks the extreme edge of ‘laddishness’ but I think we know it’s still with us – and maybe in places we don’t really care to look. Certainly machismo in sport lies very close to prejudice. Beautiful Games deals with some of this; sympathetically, I hope, but also has a pop, creates some mischief.

On a happier note, the first section of the book does contain plenty in the way of wholesome tribute to Welsh heroes at Solva Athletic Football Club and later at Llanrhian CC. There’s lots of heading (a football) and some speculation about the effect of that. There’s a brief ode to K D Lang. There’s a coupla key chapters about family tragedy because *absolutely* that has made us… and a lot of family pride. This is not just about sport: it’s about formation.

Part Two is called ‘Practice’, meaning the hows and whys of sport. And the brilliance, and the inspirational figures or methods that become your way/my way.

We’re into culture and good practice; the Wonderstuff, whether that be through the All Blacks’ ‘No Dickheads’ policy or Brian Clough’s ‘OH YOO ARE BLOODY ‘OPELESS!!’

Both were godlike and inspirational, in ver-ry different ways; the one a kind of code of honour and way of being that set extraordinary and (dare we say it) civilised standards of behaviour *as well as* producing an 86% win-rate in international rugby over more than a decade. (And this is a very high figure). The other – Brian Clough – was a law unto himself but found a way to motivate his teams through personal magnetism, elite-level pig-headedness and a truly intuitive but profound understanding of a) football and b) people.

At my own daft level I love coaching teams: in fact I really like the word – is that sad? TEEEEEAAMMM! Teams are gangs of mates or soul-sisters who do that walk-through-fire thing or just pat you on the shoulder when you’re bowling like an arse. Teams encourage and build and take you, the individual no-hoper somewhere hilarious and miraculous. And know what? Teams aren’t just for sport… and they aren’t *just about* sport.

Clough was maybe something of a drunk and something of a bully. (I’m neither, honest). But he took two mid-ranking teams – Derby and Forest – to league titles and he and Peter Taylor engineered two European Cup wins. Incredible… and I think fascinating. His players ‘just knew’ he was a genius. They followed him and believed in him. He did ‘just know’. This was about relationships as much as skill.

This may be anorak central but bear with. Clough’s former players talk about his team-talks. (I like team-talks). Apparently on occasion, even before massive games, he would spread a towel on the floor of the changing rooms, and place a football on it. Like some druid ritual. Then he would just say something like “OI. You lot. This is a ball. There’ll be one out there. Go get it… and keep the fucking thing”.

Interestingly – I think –the great All Blacks coaches Sir Graham Henry and Sir Steve Hansen – allegedly got to a point where they barely said anything on matchdays. The players were so prepared, so in charge, so empowered, that there was no hairdryer and no Churchillian rhetoric from the coaches. No need. The players are ready. I’m aware this may be a bit niche, friends. But compare and contrast with Guardiola, Klopp, Tuchel, etc etc – with the zillions of messages going out before and during top-level football matches, now. I think that may be a kind of madness.

In Part Two I write chapters on the All Blacks, Clough, Guardiola, Bazball, the fabulous and universe-changing development of women and girl’s sport. There are also Honourable Mentions for Dutch football/Bobby Charlton/Chloe Kelly/Welsh rugby/the Baabaas and many more. I do make the point that though women and girls sport is better supported than before there is still much work to be done and throughout this book, I promise, I am mindful that competitive, organised sport is not the be-all and end-all, in any event. Beautiful Games moves towards being about Sport Development – that is the provision of activity for all. More on this in a moment.

Some of you will know that I have ECB Accreditation as Written Media and most often use this to follow England and Wales Women cricket: it’s been a real privilege to have been quite close to the powerful surge in that half of the game, for towards a decade. I talk about this in the book – in both books, asitappens.

Locally, Llanrhian Ladies are a spectacular example of the joy and development occurring in cricket. They are absolutely magic and have transformed our cricket club so they are in Beautiful Games – of course they are! Finally, in the section on practice, the book turns to the other great revelation of the current moment, namely Pembrokeshire Seniors cricket.

Reading from P155 ‘Here’s something weird and wonderful...

To p157 …”I am going to be bereft when I can’t bowl”.

Sad but true, I really AM gonna be bereft when I can’t bowl. But onwards, in haste. To the final section, which I’ve called ‘The Case for Sport’.

I have worked as a coach for Cricket Wales – still doing it – and as a peripatetic PE teacher for Sport Pembrokeshire. Ver-ry proud of my colleagues in both organisations. Latterly I also did some work ploughing through a significant bundle of reports on wellbeing/activity/lifestyles for children. I’m no academic but this was ‘my territory’ so Matt at Sport Pembrokeshire let me loose on this to try and draw insights about what good, enlightened provision might look like. Who needs activity most? What’s most effective? What can we justify doing? Inevitably political/philosophical and strategic stuff, in an environment where (criminally, to be frank) budgets are likely to tighten, not loosen up.

I may have gone into this feeling a tad cynical about surveys. As a deliverer of sport you can’t help but think that it’s bloody obvious that activity is so essential and life-affirming and developmentally important in every way we don’t need reports to tell us that! They feel a bit like exercises commissioned by dead-souled office wallahs. Like who doesn’t know that exercise is good and that we have to fund absolutely everything that’s legitimate, to fight the good fight against obesity, poor mental health, the fall into sedentary behaviour and the peer pressure around body-image – for which I blame the Kardashians!

We all know this! And yet, because the more I looked at the surveys – from Pembs County Council/Senedd/the Happen Survey/the Good Childhood Report, from the Children’s Society etc, etc – the more I bought into the idea that they are often very sophisticated and skilful, and they do provide us with good, even valuable information. We just have to act on it.

So I talk about personally taking the Happen Survey into Pembrokeshire Primary Schools and then producing a kind of brainstorming document around good practice (for our Sport Pembs practitioners – Active Young People Officers, by name). About the conclusions we might draw, the options we might take. I try to weed out from the mighty, meaty documents some workable priorities or undeniable truths. I offered them to my colleagues in Sport Development across West Wales, and I offer them to you, in Beautiful Games.

Reading from p 195…

“I wrote two reports…

To end of chapter on p196.

Part Three then, does make the Case for Sport, indeed it campaigns, in a way that I hope still manages to provide some entertainment. You don’t have to be wearing a tracksuit to get this book. You really don’t. Despite being ‘sport-mad’, I can tell you that those of us who coach or teach Physical Education (or sports, or games), now understand that given where we are – deep into a wellbeing crisis, with no sign that authorities get that – we have to get moving. All of us. So PE becomes more about everybody; welcomes Joey who can’t catch and Sara who can’t run in. Welcomes them; offers them something they can do and enjoy – probably with their friends.

You don’t have to be a Sports Development geek to sense the requirement for a wider, broader remit, for Physical Education. We have to get every child comfortable with movement. Find the funding, make the change, acknowledge the crisis and the need for a re-fresh of the offer. Ludicrously, in my view, despite being lumped in to a new Area of Learning with Wellbeing & Mental Health, PE is still not a core subject. Make it a core subject.

Let me finish, dear friends, with a Mad Idea. There is nothing more important than the physical and mental health of our young people. Could we be bold enough, then, generous enough, civilised enough to *actually invest* in what matters? By this I mean – amongst other things – look at and think about the UNICEF National Happiness Index as a meaningful measure of where we’re at. Stick the GDP and the Footsie right up yer arris. Forget this charade about ‘economic growth’. Value that which is valuable: health; wellbeing; the capacity to move and make adventures. Let’s ‘get going’ on that.

Mine’s a pint of Guinness. Thankyou.