cricket

Hello Taunton.

~ bowlingatvincent ~ Leave a comment

News: England have won the toss and are bowling. What’s more, a thrillingly left-field possibility lurches towards us: Wong and Bell *could well open up*. Might argue that neither are quite ready for it, but a weakened South Africa side, cloudy skies and the Shrubsole-and-Brunty-sized hole in the universe makes this a real contender. Really hope Knight/Keightley come over all un-Englishly Baztastic, here.

It looks a seamer’s dream. Major cloud cover with occasional bright spells. Cool. Pitch looks greenish. People, I reckon I might be a threat out there. (Ancient and crocked, but right-arm medium-formerly-quick, since you ask). Quick bowlers will be able to bowl spells and expect some joy. Will suit the electrifying Bell and Wong combo, as well as the winkle-merchants Cross and Sciver. I tweeted earlier that South Africa might be 120 all out and it does feel possible.

10.48. Sudden gloom descendeth. Borderline.

In other news. Who wrote the four hour ECB(?) Mission Against Everything Nasty statement? (The one they read out before matches). Weird and plainly counter-productively endless. I’m a decent, strongish anti-racist woke leftie – so support! – but surely there’s a better way – one that doesn’t smack so heavily of every box being ticked.

OK. Long week ahead. Sit back. Players may well walk into rain… or straight off.

This is going to be so-o tough, for South Africa. Maybe for everybody. Cool. Fresh breeze. Lots of greenness and greyness… and a little glamourous redness: a young woman who seems likely to belt out the anthem?

The girl dun gud. Longish versions – certainly of the South African job. Players stood about for *some time*, however.

Love Kate Cross and respect her. But bit cowardly to open with her… & Sciver next? Why not go, go, go, with Bell and Wong? Even if this works it’s a missed opportunity.

Some bounce. Wolvaardt clips to midwicket for two. The photographers – four of them, now, six feet in front of me but outside – have coats on.

Bell will bowl from the Trescothick End. So right in front of me. Starts with a ver-ry slow slower ball. Warms to her task. One notable in-swinger and an lb shout at Wolvaardt. But maybe not a full tilt? South Africa untroubled at 4 for 0 after 2.

Cross is a lovely, fluent athlete. She may be bowling as quickly as her partner, here. Bounce and carry but arguably ‘pretty’ rather than threatening. Dare she go fuller? May need to. Do rate her but think she’s a bowler of excellent, longish spells to force errors rather than killer balls. (None of this is a criticism; just maybe should have bowled later, for me). No dramas. It’s brightened.

Bell does have an in-swinger – of almost Shrubsolian proportions. Seeing it now. An *optimistic* appeal. No.

Cross sorts one. She’s looking good… and going full… and straight… and Steyn watches as it hits off-stick. Rather calamitous, for the batter but a peach, nevertheless. Steyn made 8. On reflection, one of few balls that would actually have hit the stumps – not that this is the only consideration for an opening bowler.

Word may have got back to Bell, who is bowling boldly full, now. It’s costing her a run or two but Knight will live with that, I suspect. 20 for 1 after 6. The 52 kids who were sat on top of me on the train from Temple Meads are giving it some. Teacher needs to tell ’em it’s a long day. 11.30 and it’s bright – and crucially a wall of solid, summertastic blue to our left. (Weather coming from there).

Bell is ver-ry tall and slim. Run-up and general flow looks bit coached, perhaps, as though she’s *really looking* for discipline. Wouldn’t mind a bit of rawness and pace, myself, while she has it.

Cross has two slips – Knight and Ecclestone, interestingly – with Sciver at gully. Left-hander Goodall has a wildish swish at a wide one. OO-oohhs, but no. Wonderfully, the weather looks set… for a while, at least.

Wong replaces Bell, who’s done okay but might have wanted more stuff to happen. Whatever, those two really may be The Future… and they both have time. Issy W gets through her first over in the whites of Ingerland neatly enough: got a couple right up there. Cross continues from the River End.

Those kids – bless ’em – are loving it… but maybe not, understandably the it that is the *actual game*. The shouting is defiantly off-kilter, at about 78 degrees to what’s happening – you know – out there. It’s great but they’re gonna be knackered by lunch.

Wong is bowling 70-plus. Legitimate bouncer. Then oooff. She bowls Wolvaardt – arguably South Africa’s key bat. Full and straight, didn’t appear do do a huge amount but clattered into the off-stump. Big Moment for Wong and for the game – she looks suitably pumped. 38 for 2, as the skipper Luus joins Goodall. Sciver is in for Cross. Nice, floaty, mixed-up over.

Wong has three slips and a gully as she comes at Goodall again. No dramas and we have drinks, in what look to be improving batting conditions. The flannels may be flapping but they look blindingly white.

Back at it with Sciver, who is swinging it (away) and plopping it around that danger zone consistently, as per. Goodall coping. Say hello to the three Chance to Shine guys, behind me. They’ve sorted access for a whole bunch of schools, this week, as well as delivering sessions all over. (I’ve worked for them for 12 years, so there may be a Declaration of Interest coming. Or I might just ask you bung them a wedge when you pop your clogs. Cricket. Charity. They do good work).

Sciver bowls another full, slightly swingy leg-break. Pins Goodall. In what must surely be the first review in Eng women’s Test Cricket history, we ‘go upstairs’. Out! Kinda sweeeet to see the players so excited to go through the review process. Fabulous delivery and just reward. Lizelle Lee marches in with South Africa in some strife. 44 for 3 as Sciver takes her cap.

Circling back to wonder whether it was always the England Plan to play Wong and Bell(?) Freya Davies maybe a little unfortunate to miss out but them young speedsters…

Bell has returned to give Wong a rest. She bowls a sensational, full in-swinger to biff the front pad of Lee – on nought. Magic Moment for Bell as the review invites, no instructs the batter to walk. 45 for 4 and I may start looking for my SA 120 all out tweet, from 9am…

Except the god-fearing goddess herself – sorry that’s maybe too offensive for some tastes – has entered the fray. Marizanne Kapp is stridently christian (whatever that means) and (more relevantly to me, and to the match) an absolute worldie of a player. Great bowler, good bat, phenomenal temperament. She has work to do.

We haven’t seen Ecclestone, yet – why would we? She appears to be having an absolute ball with her colleagues in the slips: jolly japesville, with lots of bantz and shoulder-slaps as they change ends. Team humour generally looks good. 50-up, for 4, in Bell’s seventh over.

Sciver beats Kapp all ends up, with one that bounces, off a length. No nick. The kids are still screaming. Bell.

She bowls a weirdly timid(?) bouncer, which Luus can easily steer down and away from the shortish square leg, then a wide one which Kapp can guide away for her first runs – a boundary behind point. That particular delivery was 69 mph: the next is 61. Bell has 19 for 1 off 7 overs, at this juncture. The replays of her booming in-swinger to dismiss Lee – up on tv in the Media Centre – are being edited into an ECB equality campaign as we speak. Magic.

So. Coupla overs from Ecclestone, as we approach lunch? Sounds about right. Knight concurs.

Slip, silly point and foreward short leg. Flighting full. Kapp impressively obdurate. 67 for 4 after 24 and time for more Wong. She’s changed ends – now in from the river. Three slips and a gully. Looks strong and quick now she’s bowling straight at me. Wong has 1 for 12 from her 5 overs. Feels important that both she and Bell ‘notched’ on the first morning.

12.51. More cloud. More Ecclestone. Luus looking organised on 21, now. Quiet over.

Kapp thrashes Wong through the covers for four – was wide. Then again; perhaps the first committed attacking shots of the innings. But then Wong draws an edge which flies low and safe, through the cordon. A wicket now and England are utterly dominant. Knight has the freedom to go scalp-chasing, so notably attacking field, for Ecclestone.

Wong will see us through to lunch. Luus is fortunate – gets a thick edge at catchable height through the slips. Between second and third, ‘travelling’; nobody can lay a mitt on it. Delicious and decently-disguised slower ball from England’s new quick is patted down. 83 for 4. I smell food.

If you’re watching on telly, I’m just about to walk onto the Media Centre balcony-thing. Resplendent in blue/patterned shirt. Shades. Tell me mum.

I go outside a) for some air and b) to watch Bell, more side-on. Kapp slaps her four but it’s another decent over. Then Cross. The Kate Cross Action is one of my fave watches. Interestingly (whatever the speed-gun may say) she seems quick – possibly even hurrying the batters a tad more than Bell. And today she is getting bounce and carry.

The partnership between Luus and Kapp feels pivotal – skipper and best player? Not much to come? So the first few overs after lunch could be BIG.

THEY ARE. Cross bowls another beauty with a touch of away-swing and finds the edge. The ball flies sharply to probably the only player on the park (with all due respect) who might catch it. Sciver* drops to her left and grabs: it’s an absolute stunner – barely above ground, at full extent. Luus is walking and wondering how the hell…

*Sciver is one of those players who just has something. Doesn’t always look as quick or agile as (saaay) Dani Wyatt… but she just has that special gift for the extraordinary: does it all the bloody time!

The highlight package coming along nicely. Wonderball from Bell and worldie-of-a-catch from Sciver. Bosch has joined Kapp so cue the jokes about bringing something. Sunshine making me squint, suddenly. Wouldn’t have believed, when I left Bristol at 8ish, that we were set for a day sans interruptions but looks that way now. (*Fatal).

Cross continues. truly impressive and watchable spell. Looks quickish and looks to be hitting pitch/bat/pad hard. Working South Africa over in a way I hadn’t expected. (Expected skill and influence-over-time: this is punchier and more dynamic than that – a whole new Dimension of Cross. Love it).

I’m really enjoying this. As always, the crowd is at about 22% of where these women deserve it to be but hoping everyone from those bug-eyed kids to the purists with their binocs’ are, too. (Of course they are. The day has brightened, there’s been plenty Proper Cricket… and some outstanding moments).

Just now Kapp is starting to counter, with a mix of classic defence and power hitting: just pulled Cross for four to go to 28. Looks good – but then that’s what she does. Her role c.r.i.t.i.c.a.l, here.

My first live look at Davidson-Richards. Bosch boshes her square, second ball, but she’s slapping it in there a wee bit quicker than I expected. Sturdy, rather than athletic run-up but then slings over that bowling arm hard. Does okay. But there are signs that both Bosch and Kapp are looking to score, as opposed to just surviving this. Four more, for Kapp, off Cross, run rate over 3 and we are at 123 for 5 after 39 overs.

Three slips, still, for Davison-Richards. A leg-cutter nearly draws the edge. Lazy shot, in truth, from Kapp. 67/68 mph, from the bowler – up with Sciver, who follows her, from the River End.

Both batters content to drive with some intent: Bosch looking a genuine bat, having gone to a confident 15, from 24 balls. When Richards offers a short one, she carts it with some arrogance over midwicket, for four. Decent comeback: the bowler does her well and truly, outside off. No contact.

Drinks, at 14.45. South Africa are fighting. The Kapp/Bosch partnership is well past fifty. Davidson-Richards has gone at five an over during her four over spell and Sciver is *really trying everything, from party-trick-style slow balls to booming pitch-pounders. It’s good, competitive cricket. Ecclestone was air-wheeling before drinks and now she’s on. 148 for 5, South Africa, with Kapp on 47 and Bosch on 29.

Kapp promptly slaps Ecclestone for four, to go to a very competent 51. It’s her second Test 50… because Marizanne Kapp… THE Marizanne Kapp… has played two Test Matches (according to the telly above my left shoulder. What a complete nonsense that is!)

Ecclestone appeals but it feels like a routine rather than a nailed-on shout. Hit the bat, so review lost, on this occasion. Then Sciver beats Kapp and (with Jones up) the bails are off. Not out. Nice-but-quietish phase of the game. Test-cricketty. Lovely.

No Charlie Dean, so Ecclestone wheeling solo. Sciver can bowl spells no problem but wondering if we might see Wong again, soon. Soft ball, yeh, but crank it up for three overs, maybe? Important and possibly match-defining to break this pair up. Bosch has 30, Kapp 51.

Bell evidently has scraped a knee – plaster just brought on. Was going to speculate about how good an athlete she is/isn’t… but if she’s in a little discomfort then this might not be wise(or fair). In any case – breaking…

Ecclestone sends down a loopy floaty one (well, everything’s relative) which Bosch slightly inexplicably tonks to point. The ball had cramped her, possibly because earlier in the over she had clattered a cut to the boundary: now she simply lifts it to Lamb. Gone for 30. 163 for 6 and here comes Wong.

Kapp clatters her immediately towards backward square, where Bell goes down in weekly instalments to save. She looks uncomfortable getting up. Brave stop, but unless she really is injured, does nothing to dissuade me from the view that Bell is not, weirdly, perhaps, a great, natural athlete. (This may not matter: she may become a great fast bowler in any case. But it’s part of my description. Fair enough?)

Wong bounces Kapp, hard but the batter cuffs it through third man for four. Looked a controlled stroke. Then the bowler does her incredislow thing, but misses length, and Kapp bunts the full-toss past her for four more. (The bowler got a hand on it, and might have done better). 180 for 6, after 55 overs. De Klerk has joined Kapp.

Interestingly, Wong is swapped for Cross, at the River End: de Klerk facing. Fair play, the new batter push-drives her ver-ry straight, for four… but then has a swish… and Kapp *has words*.

Two close catchers plus a slip, as de Klerk now faces Ecclestone. The bowler going through her tricks. Revs/flight/spearing it. Fascinating and mildly tense over but the batter survives. Then more Cross: not clear why Wong was withdrawn so swiftly – suspected something strategic but hoping no injury. (Wong remains on the field).

Lovely mini-contest between Ecclestone and de Klerk. The spinner buzzing through her over, offering multifarious teases; the batter holding firm. 192 for 6, at tea.

Breeze still a-blowing, sky still bright. We go again. Ecclestone is followed by Davidson-Richards, who has changed ends. Kapp, now on 86, looks set for a ton. It’s been chanceless.

Few minutes later. Davidson still heartily slapping them in there – her natural length a tad short. Nothing much happening. Then de Klerk flirts at a wide one and feathers it behind. Kapp’s manifestly unimpressed; the visitors had seemed in some control. 202 for 7.

The drama spikes again: next ball and a big lb shout. Review takes an age – given out. Ultimately, ball-tracking shows not out. Kafta the relieved incomer. Half-shout last ball of the over, too but again going down. But we’re into the tail. Unwisely, perhaps, Kafta will face Ecclestone from the start of the over.

Most of the kids have gone home. Different vibe. (Almost no vibe, to be honest). Kapp hooks a short one hard. Cross not only stops it but picks it cleanly, rolling and hurls back a smart throw. Fine work – appreciated by the relatively small crowd.

Ecclestone has Jafta looking nervous. The batter not yet off the mark – 10 balls. 11. 12. 13. Solid forward press to defend. First clear fielding error, as Lamb lets an easy one through, at the boundary. Davidson-Richards the unfortunate bowler. More ill-luck striketh. Good ball is edged hard, by Jafta, but carries on the half-volley. Ecclestone does react but possible that *even Sciver* might not have claimed that one. On we go.

The genius that is Kapp – she really is magnificent – deservedly gets to 100. Yas, at my shoulder, says “woulda been a short game without her”. The fella’s right, of course. Kapp is in the top handful, worldwide. Tremendous talent, tremendous resilience and consistency, too. So I forgive her the batshit-crazy god stuff.

Jafta has 1 off 23, which is fine, of course. She just needs to hold on (for now).

Cross, from the Trescothick Pavilion. Still in flooding, then stalling sunshine. Jones up to the stumps. Could be that Cross and D-Richardson are doing the workhorse-thing before the young sprinters go hard with the new ball. (Currently in the 73rd: expecting Ecclestone/Sciver to drop in, if required, then Bell and Wong to blaze away. In the real world, they may still affect International Maturity but I’d rather they charged in for three overs each).

But in the lull, drama! And another highlights reel effort – this time from Wong, in the field. Jafta miscues but the ball is looping cruelly behind… and over. Wong re-adjusts and dives/cavorts backwards and grabs a hold. It’s really fine fielding. Cross was the bowler – she now has 3 wickets, a fair reflection of her contribution. The new batter – the beautifully-named Sekhukhune – is a left-hander.

As Ecclestone comes in, Knight may be thinking her side need to close this out sharpish. Kapp’s body-language *may be* suggesting she thinks she must go hard, in the expectation of minimal support. She’s clubbing for four more. (South Africa are now 240 for 8. Emma Lamb has just come on, to shuffle the pack. 77th over). We’re at that stage where each lump of ten runs feels ‘vital’.

Ecclestone gets a look at the left-hander. Half-chance, possibly as she cuffs away from the hip – legside fielder close-in. No dramas: ditto with Lamb from t’other end.

250 up, in the 80th over, as Kapp goes to 134. Hilarious changes in the field, as Kapp comes off-strike. (Rightly, England go from five on the boundary to everybody in the batter’s lap). No problem – Sekhukhune gets through… to the new ball… and Wong.

Kapp faces. First ball smacks in there and past the bat. Mixed over, though, including four byes down leg – whilst bowling at the alleged bunny. Drinks at 258 for 8.

Now – finally(?) – we have Bell and Wong in tandem. (Or assuming Wong continues, we do). Kapp unimpressed. Clips Bell serenely for four more then clatters her, club-cricketer-style, over midwicket. Wee bit chastening, for Bell, who has been more of a low-key threat than she might have hoped. Wong is back.

One good one beats the bat – Sekhukhune’s. Three slips and a gully in pace. Stout defence.

This is a FOUR DAY GAME. Some chatter that England may not be able to win it, from here, given weather/state of game/South African resilience – remember they lost three players on the eve of this thing. Too early to rule anything out, in my view but Knight and co will have to go some: they have players who can charge (Sciver & Dunkley may be the obvious ones but Beaumont and Knight herself can score quickly, as can Jones). The Big Issue may be that weather may either eat up chunks of precious time or work hard against batting.

But let’s enjoy the sunshine and the quality of Kapp. She drives classically straight to put young Wong back in her place. Four. She’s approaching 150. How long can her comrades hang on in there?

Long enough. She eases out through cover to get to the landmark score. But then she falls, looking to bully on. She hoists Bell over mid-off, where Beamount – as Wong had – adjusts her feet and launches backwards to take another outstanding catch. The end of something special – multiple England players run to congratulate the batter, as well as Comrade Tammy.

Now consider this. Kapp will be the one leading the bowling, in the absence of Ismail and Kahka, pret-ty promptly. Hope she has time a for a vigorous rub-down with the Jo’burg Chronicle. She’s a worldie, and I am not betting against a stonking performance with the ball, to go with that genuinely magnificent effort with the bat.

Mlaba has joined us. Bell and Sciver are now charged with extracting her, or Sekhukhune, who now has 9.

Bell is bowling her in-swinger, typically, with mixed success. (Too many missing leg-stump). At the 90 over mark, she has 2 for 47 off 16. Decent enough. But both she and Wong have looked like Works In Development – as they are entitled to do – rather than first and second choice international strike bowlers. Does this mean they get time? Surely. They get some time and some good coaching and they get better, more clinical, more consistent. Cross and Sciver are better pound-for-pound bowlers… but the young ‘uns are better suited to the Apex Predator Zone that is the first handful of overs. So invest in them.

Cross has bowled Mlaba with a treacly slower ball. Suddenly the game is done, with the visitors having set this baybee up quite nicely, at 284 all out. No more play today. Cross the pick of the bowlers, Kapp predictably finding her cool-but-also-heady level. Something in this for debutants Wong and Bell; something in it for the kids, I hope.

Good luck with that.

~ bowlingatvincent ~ Leave a comment

As you know, sagacious readers, I’m one of the Good Guys. I bore the minor inconveniences of railway disruption today, with an endearing grace. Before leaving Pembs, I bought my daughter an oat-milk mocha and a sausage roll to help see her through the lifeguarding shift and poured forty quids-worth of fuel into the car my son will use in my absence. En route to Brizzle – then Taunton – I am generously buoyed, early doors, by the good progress of the Kiwi Crickit Blokes, whom I like and rispict: I *actually want them* to either win this third Tist or at least get extended appreciation as they take Hidingley into four days (maybe). Then more cricket news comes in…

South Africa – England Women’s opponents, in the aforementioned Somerset town, and therefore protagonists in my/the cricket action of the upcoming days – make some bitterly disappointing announcements. (‘Bitterly?’ That bit melodramatic, Ricardo? No. Because just as we really do want top end competitive sport up in Yorkieland, so do we want the same, in the balmy South-West. And, specifically, we wanted Ismail).

Why? Because Shabnim Ismail is the leader of the gang, the near-haughty, self-styled Fastest (Female) Bowler on the Planet. She is quick and she is one of those electrifying presences, whether purring in or patrolling the outfield. But she can’t play – shin issue.

I was proper gutted. Ismail’s presence was one of the factors in committing my particular plums to bus, train, then Cooper Associates’ Media Centre seats (such as they are). Gutted. Felt like something in the novelty and import of a rare Test Match might have roused her, pricked at her pride. ‘Ismail in her element’, perhaps? That chance to send out a high-profile reminder.

The further news lands that Ismail’s comrade-in-seam, Ayabonga Khaka, is also out, as is Chloe Tryon, the all-rounder and vice-captain. Neither good nor conducive to our highest and most neutral aspirations, this.

There are significant changes for both sides. National icons Brunt and Shrubsole gone, for England, captain Dane van Niekerk absent for the visitors. We may yet of course get a spectacular match and an inspirational launching-off-point for both sides, where new bowling (or batting) stars emerge. In truth because of the absurd lack of Test Match cricket for all of these women we could never have known what to expect, but the late changes obliterate further anything we might term ‘an expectation’. The thoughts that follow, then, are hunches – or worse.

It’s likely that Bell will play, ahead of Wong, for England, because Keightley (the England coach) has expressed concerns about Wong’s workload. Bell strikes me as naive, still, continuing to bowl too many poor deliveries – I’m thinking leg-side wides in particular – but she does have killer balls and should get more bounce and carry than Freya Davies and Kate Cross, who should also be included.

Davies and Cross are both skilled and consistent seam bowlers with good levels of experience (except in Tests!) but both strike me as natural first-changers so the thought did occur from left-field that England might come over all bold and sling both Wong and Bell in, to open the bowling. (Doesn’t sound very England, so may not be likely but would mark The Beginning of Something, rather strikingly). Sciver will bowl – may even open(?) – and could be central in all three disciplines, such is her talent. Ecclestone is unquestionably deadly, and with newcomers coming in for South Africa (and scrambled heads a possibility) she may conceivably decide the match in a blur.

South Africa have to find a team, fast, whilst acclimatising to a slow-motion epic, in mixed British weather. Not sure how England will go – partly because none of us know who will bowl, now, for South Africa – but there is little doubt that Heather Knight leads the stronger squad. There will be panic and there will be rain. With the retirements, disruptions and potentially challenging playing conditions, I suspect the quality may be mixed: but here’s hoping a few young women really break through.

And good luck to the visitors. I mean that.

Reminders.

~ bowlingatvincent ~ 2 Comments

Know what’s great? Sport.

I shouldn’t need any reminders but I just had one, so without breaching too many confidences, here’s another personal gambit.

In a week where I attended a rather depressing BBC cricket writing thing – on Zoom, all about cramming things down, writing one-sentence paragraphs and therefore, inevitably falling in line with the murderous, soulless brevity of Online Reality – an actual game of cricket was like a quiet marvel. It was slow; it was warm; it was generous. It smelt of humans, not algorithms.

The game was a competitive friendly, between Mainly Good 40-odd Year-olds and Us. (Us being Mainly Good 60 Year-olds). I was the newcomer and – as it turned out – The Impostor. Mad keen but less agile and less able than I’d hoped. Kindof expecting to be able to wing it, through energy and effort but unable to claw my way back up to the level of these skilled, experienced guys. Plus crocked: I didn’t realised how crocked ’til now.

It’s only after I started calculating the Waltonian cricket absence – twelve years since my last competitive game, I reckon – that I begin to cut myself some slack, on what felt like a poor performance. I used to be okaaay. I used to be able to really bowl, at some pace, leg-cutters a speciality. (*Coughs*). You wouldn’t have known, I fear.

I’ve done some nets with stars (and I do mean that, in every sense) of the local Seniors scene but of course there’s nothing like playing. All those unique movements. All that adjustment for bounce, turf, speed, quality of roll. All that running and bending down. And bowling. Wonderful, balletic, deathly movements. I’ve been yomping the Coast Path for years, coaching for years, even (recently) enjoying some practice with my son, in the hope and knowledge that the day must come. But there’s nothing like playing.

Now that I’m still hobbling badly, two full days later, with a proper hospital-sized concern about my right achilles, as well as a decent crop of entirely predictable and indeed appropriate aches and pains, things have landed. Of course I should have bowled off about four paces not sixteen. Of course I should have stopped bowling when *that wee twinge* announced itself, gently at first, in my second over. Of course I should have gone round against their left-hander but…

Calculations suggest it may be 12 years since I played a proper game. So I’m not going to change anything, once I’ve marked out that run. No sir. Just kee-ping it sim-ple. And ignoring that ankle (and yaknow, everything).

Everybody’s hurting, fer chrisssakes. Push on, boyo. Bowl, you gret wazzuck. What’s that one compelling truism in the pile of platitudinous crap? (WHEN THE GOING GETS TOUGH, THE TOUGH GET GOING!!)

Try. Look how hard all these magnificent, stupid old buggers are trying!

*Lump-in-throat moment* Blimey, yeh, look at ’em. We’ve barely met yet we’re a team. A bloody team! There’s no choice – crack on, mun.

We lost… and it didn’t matter. I only knew, when I pitched up, about four of our players… and it didn’t matter. Game-wise the sunny ambience/honourably competitive combo-thing was humming in the air; balanced; beautiful; idyllic and ideal. It was a real welcome. I got battered but was encouraged, throughout, by patently better men and players. We held our own, enough, as a side, because some of our lads took us within 30-odd of their 242. (40 overs).

In the bar it felt good. We had a few laughs and the unspoken awareness that we had ju-ust begun to morph into another ridicubrotherhood – though in defeat – bounced or spread agreeably round the room. Strangers brought together: that corny, wonderful, sporting cobblers.

But when and how, exactly, did that start? (There’s another post on that!) Could be we felt it on the outfield from the first lumber. It *really can* transmit subconsciously, eh – or somehow? From the first ball – before then? – there was something. Body-language. Verbals. Team Humour.

Maybe it passed or blossomed in the friendly exchanges over our modest consumption of alcohol. (This was no riot). Maybe with the quiz card, or during the Few Words from captain and visiting stalwart – who knows? It was quiet, undeniable magic, with the Pembrokeshire sunshine and the open doors and the guys all ‘suffering’ or recovering: blokes who can really play being good to those who possibly can’t.

I got an award – an allegedly cuddly duck, in take-no-prisoners yellow. I hadn’t batted, on merit, but had probably made the telling contributions in our defeat. So fair cop. We go again, god-willing, on Thursday.

The Revolution According to Anya Shrubsole.

~ bowlingatvincent ~ Leave a comment

There will be some words but not, let’s be honest, that many. (Wonder why that is?)

After 14 years, Anya Shrubsole, MBE, is hanging up those clodhoppers – at international level, anyway. She has left rather magnificently, with characteristic intelligence and healthy self-awareness. Her career in the game will continue, and I have no doubt she will continue to be a significant threat to batters, quite possibly for some years. But there is a rare-ish consensus that despite being just 30, this was the time. Why would that be?

I’ve been more outspoken (some would say brutal) about Shrubsole’s fitness, than most. I’ve tried to judge her as an international athlete as opposed to a woman and *in that context* been clear that her conditioning has been unacceptable for some time. (Get that some think I’m just another misogynist; politely disagree). Now plenty of folks seem to be gently agreeing, or perhaps more exactly accepting that with the fabulous development of the game now including/demanding significantly higher standards of movement, agility and (obviously) fielding, generally, Anya has become exposed.

In her farewell statement, she says

To have been involved in women’s cricket at a time of such growth has been an honour but it has become clear to me that it is moving forward faster than I can keep up with, so it is time for me to step away.

She’s right. Her bowling – even without being quick – is still often outstanding, and uniquely bananalicious. (Shrubsole has swung the ball better and further than almost any bowler on the planet, for a decade). In-swingers. Beauties. Australia may have made her look eminently or reasonably playable, over the last few months but the sheer voluptuousness of that arc through the air has been simply too much for many international opponents, for aeons.

Right now it maybe that things have crept against her even on this – although I am clear that it is fundamentally the conditioning thing that has nudged her aside. Because all standards are going dizzily skyward, the sense that she is *relatively* one-dimensional, bowling-wise, has been developing. She of course can and does vary pace and mixes up deliveries a little but that killer inswing has always been the weapon. Of late, the likes of Healy, Lanning and Mooney looked like they could read it.

It will be fascinating to see if Shrubsole can remain a force in the formats she continues to grace. Will more bats more confidently swing through? Dunno… but openly hope Anya doesn’t get entirely found out – she’s too good and her contribution’s been too magnificent for that.

I first saw Anya Shrubsole live at Glamorgan CC, for a double-header against Australia. This was 2015, I think: (go check, there’s a blog pretty much dedicated to her performance). The women’s *scene* had begun to reveal its potential to me and I knew a little… but WOW. Sitting directly behind her as she ran in, possibly on my first visit to the Glam Media Centre, was deliciously memorable. The amount of swing Shrubsole got that day was a bloody revelation (to me). She struggled to contain it but got a three-for, again from memory, including some of those Ozzy Superstars.

I know I wrote that she was the best or most exciting bowler on the day (when the blokes played too, right?) It really could be that the Ole Partnership of Brunty and Shrubbers grabbed a hold of me right there and then: I’ve been attending England Women internationals ever since.

So – despite being critical – I’m gonna miss this woman. For her very English doughtiness and rather moody, schoolmistress-like air, in the field. For her late-order batting grit. But mainly for the world-beating, sometimes thrillingly late-looping bowling. For that, Shrubsole will always be special; will always be a leader, in fact, of The Revolution.

Different Level.

~ bowlingatvincent ~ Leave a comment

Let’s start with a minute’s applause, for an Australian side we freely acknowledge to be a worldie – even those of still somewhat trapped by that feeble, generational tribalism-thing, that puts an anchor on pro-Aus warblature. They are different level; they’ve proved it; it’s a triumph for all of them. Their seemingly impregnable mentality is a powerful, impressive, undeniable bloc, that even us Poms have to defer to and respect.

So where’s it come from? From Mott’s shrewd leadership – and Lanning’s. Via deep, committed investment, both financial and in terms of planning, to make the execution possible. From a spectacular group of talented and resilient players. From things strategised, then ‘allowed to happen’, or nurtured, rather than directed or coached, entirely – because, maybe, they can’t be coached. Plenty of this is supra-sport, beyond measurement, ownership or even explanation. How fabulous is that?

Australia are all of those juggernaut-tastic things the media and the fans are calling them. It’s great that a truly ground-breaking squad has demonstrated their brilliance so emphatically… and gone and won the bloody thing. This is what Sporting Justice ought to look like: the best winning, fair and square (and ideally with some style). All. Boxes. Ticked.

But where does this leave England? In credit, firstly, in the sense that they have fought back from some degree of humiliation (never mind disappointment) in the early rounds of this tournament. They were distressingly poor, particularly in the field, for a nerve-jangling and near-‘fatal’ period. A way back (and forward, obvs) was found.

Interesting to note Ecclestone’s lurv-note to her skipper, in this regard. Sophie notably keen to big up ‘Trevor’ for guiding/chivvying/leading the group back into contention. For England to win a series of sudden-death matches and then stay ahead of the Australian run-rate for thirty-odd overs, chasing a ridicu-total in the World Cup Final is no mean feat. To smash South Africa in the semi is no mean feat. Ecclestone publicly lumped a lot of the credit for the honourable resurgence at her captain’s feet.

There are rumours around the obvious potential retirees – Brunt and Shrubsole. The latter was tearful both before and after the game: no wonder. Shrubsole had a goodish semi and final but her conditioning and the feeling that more teams will find her out more easily as time and skill-levels fly on and up, work against her keenly now. Yes she is still taking wickets but a wee slackening in pace is inevitable. That together with raised expectations and the urgent need to enact the succession planning we can only imagine has been at the forefront of the coaching groups’ minds for some time point to an international retirement soon. It’s time.

Brunt is older but a different animal. Fitter and more adversarial than Shrubsole – generally in a good way – the long-time Pack Leader may still have the energy and the skills to compete for a place. (Whether this is either the right thing, or helpful to either party is something those of us the outside would be foolish to judge upon). My daft guess is that both opening bowlers may retire – possibly from all cricket – with Shrubsole moving into a coaching role, maybe within a shortish time-frame. (She just strikes me as a thoughtful one, and someone who might impart valuable stuff with some dexterity. Brunt is allegedly a lovely, ‘soft’, warm human away from the battle but somehow I don’t see her settling back into stuff, away and without direct involvement in that mortal combat).

The World Cup Final, perhaps inevitably, laid bare some of the concerns, for England. What happens when early wickets don’t tumble, for the bowling unit? What happens if Sciver, striding out to bat, can’t find her Superwoman suit? How can Brunt be batting 7? What level *really*, are Dean and Cross working at, ball-in-hand?

We cannot address any of these issues without re-stating the specialness of Australia; without revisiting the clear yellow water between Oz and everybody else. But let’s assume – as England will – that they are the standard to which they aspire. Simply no point in aiming towards Indian or South African ‘ceilings’: how well Ecclestone – to take the extreme and uppermost example – goes against that second tier, is irrelevant to progress. England must address the towering spinner’s relative failure to impact the fixtures against Australia. (Go look at the stats. Interesting).

Watching Ecclestone go for 70-odd in her ten overs (again) was no real surprise – Australia, we know, are *that good* – but Keightley and co (as well as the bowler) must look at the specifics around that, as well as the general impregnability of the Australian line-up. All of us with an opinion to hurl were saying, before the game, that England must find a way to knock over seven or eight Aussie wickets to stand any chance. It didn’t happen. Three toughish chances were dropped and by the time wickets fell, a platform the size of a South Sea island had been built.

It may have been that Lanning, Mooney and Perry didn’t need that incredi-base to free them up – such is their confidence and skill. But having a mighty lump of runs behind you does *change things*. I might have gone in there and fearlessly biffed a few, in those last ten overs. Australia, without me, struck 120 runs off the last 60 balls(!) Strewth. No wonder the record books were exploding.

Final thought on the Australian batting. Perry. This may be sentimental but how wonderful to see her just do enough, in her limited time at the crease, to offer a wee sense of her choiceness, her flow. Unwise words both but she remains a goddess of the game, a natural – as demonstrated by her exhibition in the field, where she gathered and threw splendidly.

To England, and particulars of their game. Wyatt could not maintain her own, superlative form, of the semi and, despite being England’s best fielder, she dropped a sharpish chance, at point. (That, in hindsight seems a little symbolic… and despite the Independence of All Things, it felt a little like that precipitated further drops from Sciver and Beaumont). Opening-up, as always, Beaumont fell earlyish, too, again playing across – something she may need to re-address. Early-doors, England stayed ahead of the run-rate, but a killer partnership never seemed likely: compare and contrast(?)

Knight could not resist: England’s platform was therefore creditable but wobbly. Jones, joining Sciver, found a few shots but fell off again. Dunkley, in at 6, felt like the last significant protagonist… with a zillion runs still to make. When she was bowled, rather unsatisfactorily, behind here legs, Sciver, going mightily once more, looked stranded – or likely to be so.(As she approached her hundred, this tingled, uncomfortably).

Ultimately, Sciver nailed an extraordinary second century against This Australia, in the tournament: defiance, and then some.

Brunt went, Dean offered meaningful but sadly un-sustainable support and Cross and Shrubsole went cheaply. In short justice was done, and by about the right margin. Another Australian Team For the Ages had powered home, with Healy playing the kind of knock that even Poms like me might raise a glass to.

On a spectacular day, the team in blinding yellow had re-invented the possibles again. Thrillingly.

Universe podcast, : #CWC22, five dangerous themes.

~ bowlingatvincent ~ Leave a comment

Get that Twitter doesn’t do irony, so expect to be in trouble again, creditibility-wise, as I tear into Media Coverage by erm, ranting unrehearsed. (Do like a bitta mischief. 🤓)

However, there is the occasional worthwhile obsevation, in here, I venture. So have a listen?

Point 1 is about the very mixed coverage – so mainly pointing at Sky… but not just them. Clearly there are some brilliant broadcasters out there but it pisses me off we don’t see too much of them (for women’s coverage).

Do I need to add that clearly there are some brilliant women broadcasters… but that as per the blokes, some are either shockingly bland, air-headed or dull? And we deserve better. So hang the producers. This is not about the sex of the people; it’s about their quality… or the quality of some of them. Loads of viewers reach straight for the mute button: that ain’t right.

Points 2-5 are probably less contentious. I talk about cricket. But yeh, go see. Or listen.

Footnote: should have mentioned Kate Cross, in here. Good athlete, good, consistent bowler and great Team Member. Her nibbly wee fifth-stumpers may well contribute, should England prosper. (Have a slight fear Aus may target her, precisely because of that consistency but really hope she goes well).

Knight is due.

~ bowlingatvincent ~ Leave a comment

That same England that we fans were cursing found a higher-astral-plane cruising-mode to render everything a nonsense, earlier. Of course they did. Because a) everything IS a nonsense, b) this was a semi and c) THEY ALWAYS WERE #thebestteamintheworldthatisntAustralia.

Yes. They were. Even when Shrubsole and Brunt looked painfully out of sorts, the coach looked weirdly like a mildly disinterested knitting champion and Wyatt, Jones and everybody but Sciver and Dunkley looked like toast-in-the-waiting. In short, even when England were ’embarrassing’, those of us who have been paying attention (over days/weeks/years) knew that they had ‘performances in them’. That they really were better than India/WIndies/South Africa – that they were, in fact, the only meaningful challengers to the Aussie juggernaut.

Does this mean I/we take back our vitriol, from the last month? (Even the frankly unkind stuff about Shrubsole’s condition?) No. ‘Fraid not. Despite the thrilling excellence of Anya’s opening burst – despite, even, the fine, diving grab for the Wolvaardt wicket, Shrubsole is not absolved. She like every other International Professional Athlete should be ticking the I.P.A box in terms of fitness and agility. Likewise Jones and Wyatt (etc, etc) should be ticking the Avoid The Ludicrous Lazy Gift box, when wielding the willow of Ingerland. This stuff matters: there are responsibilities in play, yes?

But ‘end of’. Look at the scoreboard; look at the table; look at the history books. They already say ‘Holders, England are through to another final’. I’m bloody delighted to see that. What’s more, I think they have a chance of raising the trophy at the end of all of this: they can’t be favourites but they have a chance because England have come through, ultimately, in real, important, creditable style… but yeh, they were crap for toooo long, in this event.

Wyatt seized the day. She swished and cut and drove compelling (but not flawlessly) to a hundred and more, piercing the field with that characteristically lithe power, but also teasing them with the occasional near-fatal miscue. (Bottom line, she should have been on her way but for some poor efforts to snaffle an admittedly wind and/or spin-affected ball. Even the god-like (goddess-like?) and god-loving Kapp was guilty of a strangely discordant fluff. Wyatt swatted on).

Seasoned watchers will know that despite some evidence to the contrary, in #CWC22, it is England’s fielding that sets them apart and above the ‘minor players’ in the hierarchy of the world game. They are generally at a higher professional level: perhaps they should be, given the relative investments – the ‘resources’. However the keys to this semi-final were fundamental, not general. Wyatt and the now convincingly prolific Dunkley batted best; Ecclestone’s bowling was just too good.

Beaumont biffed the very first ball from Ismail to the boundary but was then in a pickle. Knight, though understandably fixated on batting long, got utterly stuck, failing to hit anything for an age, lest she offer a chance, then falling plumb for a disconcerting and potentially demoralising single run scored. Sciver smashed a stunning pull shot, nuttily, beautifully, then was cramped to another short one from Kapp, and merely spooned it to the ring. Jones, for the umpteenth time, threatened to unleash some quality but managed instead to ‘fail’ and fall, in another gift-wrapped, despairing moment.

In the middle of the night I had posted my own target before a tactical (3 hour, work-necessary) retreat: on this pitch, England must get 260 or 70. The pitch was obviously true-ish. Somebody was obviously going to go biggish. I hoped – but then daren’t hope – for more, from the women in blue.

When I re-emerged at 6 am, coincidentally bang on the start on the South Africa reply, I was wondering if Wolvaardt might ‘do a Wyatt’ and make 120-something. She felt like a threat. Shrubsole’s completely predictable but nevertheless thrillingly challenging inswing soon undid that storyline. A further early wicket – that of Lee, caught Sciver, at short midwicket – put England in command, particularly as the batting team felt light, or lighter than England, beyond that opening pair.

None of Luus, Goodall, du Preez or Kapp failed; they all got into their twenties or a little beyond. But in the early-middle overs Cross and Dean, despite the latter being mixed, made key inroads before the Ecclestone Parade came to town.

The young woman is a phenomena. Firing in those arcing or spearing mace poles. Relentlessly and somehow joyously. At you – at your toes! Irresistible. That speed, that parting of the curtains, pre-delivery. Mind-scramblingly good.

From about the sixth over it felt a little like the Ecclestone Moment might come, might sort this. (Knight, perhaps teasing out the the drama, kept us waiting). Whether this was some sublime instinct or (more likely) simply and prosaically A Plan, we will never know. In the event, it worked.

The last knockings of the South African innings became – either traumatically or deliciously – a rout. Six wickets for the Tall Girl from the North. A ‘shush’ to send off the (presumably previously lary?) Ismail. Theatre. With all this pressure on her, the ‘Best Bowler In The World’ unfussily performs. It becomes a right thrashing. England are there.

Australia are the best side in the world: England next best. It’s good that they meet. Haynes, Healy, Lanning, Mooney and Perry out-gun their English equivalents – certainly in terms of consistency. And Brunt and Shrubsole and even Ecclestone are less likely to repeatedly dent that winning machine. But this now is a final. And there will be nerves. And there may be sublime inspiration. I’m hoping it comes from England.

Knight *is due*.

Changes.

~ bowlingatvincent ~ Leave a comment

Unwise, to write whilst disappointed to the point of anger. (Unwise, actually, to get angry about sport, eh?) But I suspect that the three consecutive defeats in this #CWC22 have left those of us that are bothered about Eng Women* starting the Working Week in a right mood.

(*Nobody was watching, live, in the ground. Media coverage, though growing, will be miniscule compared to male equivalents. So yeh I’m bit cheesed orff; ’bout everything).

Lets draw up a swift Mitigating Circumstances column. To draw some of the venom. England have been pretty bad because:

Demoralised by a higher level Australian side, in a concerningly one-sided Ashes tour.

Bubbles/travel/boredom/homesickness.

Erm… something else?

These appear to be reasonably meaningful factors but do they account for manifestly below-par performances against West Indies and South Africa and that undeniable sense that England are in something of a mess? It’s right to acknowledge improvements elsewhere – ‘smaller nations’ catching up – but should that equate to or account for a steepish decline in performance levels for Heather Knight’s side?

The answer to that latter question is ‘maybe’; or, ‘it could’. Because pressure. Pressure from the rails, from under your collar, from inside the mind. England *suddenly feeling* vulnerable when they should still feel better, more solid, empowered. Because England are the second best side in the world. Meaning the answer to that question is also ‘no’.

South Africa have just beaten England in a tense but not exceptional match – certainly not, quality-wise. Player of the Match Marizanne Kapp may have thanked “her saviour” immediately after the game but she might have thanked any one a series of England fielders who again either spurned catches/stumpings or dived over balls that might have been stopped. Sour grapes? (Possibly: I’m soured, but I’m not sure anyone beyond Ecclestone can be satisfied with their contribution in the field. Given this is where England have stayed ahead of those developing sides – through what we might broadly call professional intensity and execution – the persistently shoddy work from England has felt genuinely galling).

Read the specifics of the match elsewhere. South Africa won it and deserved to win it but England’s batting was timid and one-dimensional and their fielding was badly off. Beaumont dropped an easy catch and was again, like her team-mates, ‘mixed’ – prone to dive over or past the ball. Jones, behind the sticks, was alarmingly in and out, Brunt and Shrubsole again relatively impotent.

The latter is somehow shielded from criticism (and there may be reasons for this) but it feels entirely reasonable to note that as a full-time professional athlete, in a universe where expectations have dramatically changed for the better, she is two stones too heavy… and this patently affects her fielding… and maybe to a lesser extent her bowling.

I have always been a huge fan – have gone on the record many times, to that effect. But it is not acceptable, any longer, that prime, professional athletes are so badly out of condition. This is one reason why Shrubsole should retire (and I expect her to) after this tournament; whatever happens over the remaining games. Anya Shrubsole has been a glorious intoxicant in the game, for a decade and more – arguably the best swing bowler in the world for much of that period. Now she should go.

Given that Shrubsole’s long, long-term partner is in a similar ‘twilight phase’, there’s a really fascinating link between the men and women’s international sides in respect of their opening bowlers. But I’m not going there. Katherine Brunt is (I repeat, like her colleague) one of the greats. Powerful, punchy but also loaded to the gills with a rare guilefulness, Brunt has had a low-key tournament. Could be powers fading. Could be tiredness.

There has been, quite rightly, talk of a double replacement or retirement, here. The Pretenders – notably Bell and Wong – have been drawing support concomitant to the criticism of the coach, in the absence of opportunity or ‘succession planning’. Brunt remains better and certainly more consistent than both… but sure, that proverbial clock is ticking.

All of which brings me back to the coach, Lisa Keightley. She’s done her work quietly, in the background: despite being drawn to more obviously charismatic characters, I have no issue with that. (Clearly, you don’t have to be an extrovert to be somebody people or players will follow). And yet I think she should go. The team energy has been somewhere between frail and limp, too often. There are simply too many errors going on. It feels – whatever that means – like the team lacks character. All of that is the coach’s responsibility: they are charged with making the environment.

We all have our own ideas about selection – that’s part of the joy of this, yes? My own admittedly left-field opinion, following a night in Hove where she did that thing where something ver-ry special gets announced, is that Mady Villiers had to be a fixture in this side. Maybe for that stunning, invigorating brilliance in the field alone. And Shrubsole should have been rotated in and out, or possibly simply de-selected, to bring on the newbees and recognise the modern realities re athletic non-negotiables. And, somehow, the likes of Beaumont and Jones and even Brunt should have been challenged more directly to perform or buck up, with the bat.

The squad’s felt too cosy; too willowy, even. Coach must not allow that to happen. Wyatt and Jones and Winfield-Hill endlessly gifting poor, premature dismissals to the opposition. Woeful catching becoming, or feeling predictable. Confidence paper-thin. For an age, Knight’s doughtiness, Beaumont’s application and Sciver’s power have carried the team – kept that chasing pack chasing. Now England look caught.

There is a chance that England could yet qualify. A slim one. If they do then they will be a threat, should they play to their maximum. So far, plainly, they have been devastatingly short of that aspiration. They will feel shrivelled and beaten in every sense…. and I guess I’m not helping here.

Pressure is real and not real. Keightley and Knight have to engineer the most astonishing of revivals. I hope they do it. If they don’t, then of course there must be changes.

Another field.

~ bowlingatvincent ~ Leave a comment

Just me, or did everything go foggy? Just not sure if I’m seeing straight, or walking straight. As though I’m foot-dragging, head-down – as though some impenetrable gloom is settling.

Could be the whole Ukraine shitshow, of course. Undoubtedly is. That’s monstrous and unsettling, even from this (my/our) safe distance. Cruel. But something else, something that’s going to sound on the one level insultingly melodramatic, set me off walking – quite literally – towards some light and some respite, yesterday. Deaths from another field.

My hands are up. I’m plainly one of the Poms that bridled when Marsh or Warne did their lary Australian thing: when they so mischievously and powerfully stoked our feeble, tribal Brit-dom. Couldn’t stand them, in the day. Too ‘in yer face’ – too Ozzy. Spent years if not decades fighting back the open vitriol against a painfully endless series of Australian Super-teams. Often it broke through and I’d be bawling at the telly like some inflamed, proto-Barmy Army clan-member, high on beer or anger or jealousy. Rod Marsh was a bull with gloves on; Warne a chopsy bamboozler. The bastards always beat us and generally smashed us. Because they were bloody sensational.

Warne is rightly being talked about in a different way. He was in a category of one. Dazzling, touched by something ver-ry special: a blonde ringmaster. Marsh was less extravagantly gifted but in terms of team humour and durability, equally a force. They were both macho men, with arses like rhinos and that toughened rhino-like skin: kings of fierce banter and apex-predator confidence. I went walking yesterday to mourn them… and to escape the crushing poignancy of our own family losses to cardiac arrest.

Then suddenly the cricket was back. Australia versus England – beautifully or cruelly(?)- in the Women’s World Cup, no less.

Earlier the fabulously dramatic (though mixed quality) New Zealand v West Indies match had cut through the seemingly universal melancholy. The White Ferns (hosts) had contrived to lose three wickets in the last over, needing only six runs to win; Deandra Dottin taking the whole “hold my beer” schemozzle to a different stratum, by returning to the match to twist the fates. Incredible, but (with all due respect) something of a warm-up act for the Ashes re-run.

In Hamilton, England chose to bowl and Brunt and Shrubsole executed, certainly with regard to control, without making the breakthroughs that were always likely to be necessary against the world’s best. Healy scored at a decent rate but was mis-timing, on a pitch that the distinctively discerning Nasser Hussain – how brilliant?!? – described, within a matter of overs as challengingly ‘tacky’. (He went on to relate just how Kate Cross’s modus operandum – length, in particular – might be central to proceedings. The fact that she didn’t quite prove him right does nothing to undermine the sparkling acuity of his observations). Haynes battled stodgily through, early on, Healy was out miscuing before Australia engaged Bat Long In Order To GO BIG mode- as they so often do.

Lanning made 86 and Haynes an increasingly dynamic 130 as the Southern Stars (are they still calling themselves that?) posted an intimidating 310 for 3. Tellingly, they had made 100 runs from the final 60 balls, with both Perry and Mooney contributing to the concluding burst. It was always likely to be too much.

England are good and were good, in that first knock. But not special. Ecclestone – a worldie of a bowler but an average, if improving fielder – might possibly have claimed two catches. Given that these were offered by Lanning and Haynes before they really opened up, this bloody hurt. Players of that quality really are going to cash in and build, if you gift them lives.

Not that England didn’t compete. Beaumont, Knight, Sciver and to a lesser extent Dunkley and Brunt can be pret-ty content with their contributions with the bat. But this is not the case – again – with Winfield-Hill, Jones and Wyatt, all of whom did that *slightly predictable* under-achievement thing.

Get that it’s hugely insulting to question anyone’s mettle… but this may be where we are with those individuals. Unquestionably players but too often(?) unable to demonstrate the toughness or resolve or whatever it is, to contribute under manifest pressure. (Unconvinced? I’ve watched them live, multiple times. You can feel it coming.).

Jones is fortunate in the sense that she is a relative fixture on account of her primacy as a ‘keeper. But she’s been infuriating, more often that not, with the bat. Can hit strikingly purely but so-o often swings without timing or sufficient confidence across the line – miscuing to the fielder. Winfield-Hill can be classical and doughty and sometimes stylishly expansive… but rarely gets past 30. Weirdly, it may be that she surrenders her place to the mercurial, popular and sometimes thrillingly positive Wyatt, who opened for an extended period before a drop in her form.

On paper England bat deep but in practice, against Real Contenders, there are questions arising. It’s true, I think that despite the development of historically less powerful (cricketing) nations, Keightley’s crew are still more professional and more accomplished than everyone else in this comp – hence the unwanted moniker as ‘The Best Side in the World That Isn’t Australia’. But there is a gap there that the Australian-born England coach will be, must be seeking to close. That gap feels more about temperament than quality, to me.

I don’t enjoy any implication that despite the presence and quality of Beaumont, Knight, Sciver and Brunt, England may lack character, but (despite posting a strong total against the world’s best side!) it sometimes registers like this. Meaning the mix needs a further shake; or particular individuals need to graft, force, grit their way back into some international form. Quite a task to do that, mid-competition.

We can’t finish on a negative, after England got within a handful of runs of a record target. Good game. Encouraging game. Next stop for the ‘Pommie Wimmin?’ Exhilarating, undeniable brilliance. Please.

On ‘Different Class: The Untold Story of English Cricket’, by Duncan Stone. A personal view.

~ bowlingatvincent ~ Leave a comment

Daft ‘formalities’: I’ve never met Duncan Stone but we are (how ridiculous does this sound… but how often am I saying it?) Twitter mates, or at least relate, on that venerable platform. So, knowing him as a co-‘leftie’, as a bloke with a strong social conscience, I come to this thing with a lump of sympathy. I am not, however, any kind of historian – not even of cricket. Indeed if this book was just a collection of events or historical *moments* detailing or sketching the chronological tribulations or otherwise of the game, I might personally be nodding out, here and there. It’s the actual game, that does it for me.

What this means is I had mixed expectations. And there were times when I drifted, a tad, amongst the fixing of the stories. Hang on, which league? What conference? How many teams, in which configuration? Who got excluded and which was the mob most dripping with imperialist supremacy? And who was it, again, who was right-on… and who self-righteous? Were they also implicitly or explicitly racist? And who was, yaknow, right about everything from the format to the Real Power Structures?

It’s my weakness, I suspect, not the book’s, that I felt ver-ry occasionally neck-deep in club/league detail I was never going to hold onto. I fully accept the author’s right and indeed motivation to put on the record, as he does, the Untold Story: there is a brilliance and thoroughness and drive about that meticulous intent which demands respect. Plus… Stone is right.

He is right to puncture the ludicrous pomp around ‘Gentlemen Amateurs’ and their greedy hold on the sport. From Grace the Giant (but hypocritical arse) to Graves the delusional inheritor; all these posh white gentlemen lauding it and inferring (or even proclaiming) their own specialness. As ‘amateurs’. As ‘gentlemen’. As guardians of the ‘spirit of cricket’. Stone firstly both champions and records the alternative history, of league cricket, ordinary cricket, cricket without pretensions, then he unpicks the collusions between toffs, media and governance that have always propped up the ‘traditional’ view of this game being superior. The author says “I see you” to all those through the ages who by accident or design have conflated (their own) comfortable, mono-cultural middle-classness with (their own), ‘authentic’, rather needy understanding of cricket as force for good-which-coincides-with English Greatness.

It’s political, then. Because of course the dominion – from Amateur Gentleman Player to Jerusalem-bawling (white, middle-class) Barmy Army activiste – remains. As it does in the political realm. The ECB remains. Poor visibility remains. Poor inclusion. The august BBC reporter (Agnew) is still saying that ‘cricket is a decent game, played decently’, without any sense of how loaded that statement is.

Cue the longish extract, from a blistering final chapter:

‘As much as the historical importance of the Ashes continues to prop up Test cricket in England and Australia, the global adoption of the “Spirit of Cricket” as recently as 2000 is, for anyone aware of the game’s long history of shamateurism, match-fixing, elitism and racism, little more than a corporate delusion. Domestically, the decision taken in 2003 to have the England team take to the field to Sir Edward Elgar’s version of “Jerusalem” is equally problematic. Now that the “resentful irony” of William Blake’s words are wilfully misinterpreted, this entirely contrived tradition (originally suggested by Ashes sponsor Npower) not only presents an anachronistic view of England, it reinforces the rigid monoculturalism at the heart of the Tebbit Test’.

If you don’t get that that Agnew’s (probably? Relatively?) innocent remark about decency, or the more extravagantly insensitive use of ‘Jerusalem’ by ECB/England Cricket project something unhelpful into the ether then this book will challenge you. (And that’s good). If you love cricket and history and finding stuff out, you will be riveted by ‘Different Class’ – hopefully irrespective of your political views. It does tell an untold story: that of a game “that has elevated those blessed with privilege while disenfranchising the majority who, as this book reveals, did the most to develop and sustain the game according to a very different culture.” (Page 287).

This brief review undersells the bulk of the material, which details, richly, the development of recreational cricket, previously utterly bypassed or even traduced by most historians. That disproportion of mine may be inevitable, given the noises around the game and around this book but I regret it and re-iterate my respect for the telling of that story. Mr Stone has thrown a ver-ry robust, very powerful and yes, controversial document into the mix. Read it and consider many things.