ECB

Woodentops.

~ bowlingatvincent ~ Leave a comment

I left early, exhausted and *concerned with travel*. Strode manfully back to Cardiff Central and waited, patiently. I can do patient.

Then A Journey.

I got home, ok, about 11pm, only about half an hour late – a result, given the circumstances around and behind me. My train had waited for some time yn Abertawe, to allow other delayed passengers to catch us up and clamber on board what may then have been the Last Train West.

I knew it would happen but during that pregnant pause in Swansea’s fair city the extended family group I’d seen at Haverfordwest at 9 am – all male, aged between 14 and 74 – bundled into the carriage and sat close to me. (Genuinely being exhausted, I’d done that sit right in the corner, feign sleep and almost disappear-into-the-walls thing but such was their level of intoxication (and general stupidity) these disparate gentlemen, united in their dumb, beery haze, failed to either notice my aspiration for quiet seclusion or respect it. Worse still, they failed to respect the young woman sitting more centrally.

They ‘sang’. Bad versions of Barmy Army songs, ill-remembered. Snippets of anti-German, pro RAF choons, fer chrissakes(!) But they also sang foul, repeated, endless, and pretty unfunny wee ditties about ‘The Girl in the…’ The kind of feeble, crude, dumb songs you can only sing when you’re a dumb, drunk bloke.

All this whilst they were force-feeding each other more, plainly unwanted beer – because you can’t be seen to ‘dip out’, eh? I’m sure they thought they were being ‘good-natured’ and it’s true there wasn’t the faintest whiff of violence or truly ugly, physical behaviour… but or except the songs… and the intrusions into other peoples spaces and faces… which were palpably offensive.

To cap it all, the only moment of coherent conversation between them featured Young Buck X telling Grandad(?) that he was planning on joining the police force and Grandad advising that he should try to ‘aim higher than Hendon’, which is ‘where all the Woodentops go’. Laugh? I nearly bought a round.

Here’s how the cricket felt:

Let’s shed the minor disappointments. One: the boardwalk was shut, denying your scribe the *full effect* of the Cardiffian yomp, from Central to Glam. (For aliens, the boardwalk hugs you against the Millenium Stadium – yeh, yeh, I know – and alongside the canalised river. It’s groovy). Then, arriving in a pool of sweat, and after a battle with the wifi, when one settles in to the view, it’s clear the ground is well short of full. Scandalous. Happier and medium-pointed news is that Brook is opening, with Malan. It’s a magbloodynificent day.

Southee and Henry, for New Zealand. The former is in from the River End, looking taller and maybe more disproportionately long-legged than I remember. Or maybe it’s something about that tightish, slickish kit: or his electrifyingly white trainers. Or maybe he’s had shin-lengthening surgery? Maybe a little more bounce than some Glam pitches(?) Henry beats Malan with a beauty – looked quick from up here.

Two very different fours, from Malan, in quick succession. Stylish cut and then workmanlike bundle between the bowler (Southee) and mid-off. Five overs done and England are 21 for 0. Henry beats Brook. After the scoring rate *everywhere else* of late, Brook having 9 off 14 and Malan a few more off 20, feels bit tame… but maybe that’s my heart still racing post the necessarily swift walk in. (Love 50 over internationals: for the record).

Southee goes tad over-full, to Malan. He leans beautifully over and into it: scorches square, for four more. Then weirdly – cos this is short-format – the next ball Our Dawid swishes agriculturally across the line but fails to make contact. Soon he will find those hands again; skilfully guiding Henry off the sweet spot, towards a wide third man. (Only one but bloody lovely. Eased, softly). Then Jamieson is creeeeeeemmed through extra, to welcome him to the game. Stunning: Malan looking ver-ry good. (*Fatal, usually)*…

Be honest, you had absolutely no money whatsoever on Malan scoring three times as quickly as Brook. Me neither. But it’s happening. Henry is still with us and bowling with notable determination. The England fifty is up, pleasingly symmetrically, on the 10 over mark. No loss. Malan has 34 of those runs.

Jamieson slaps one in… and Malan smashes it in front of square, emphatically. It’s a Statement as well as a boundary. More pace as Ferguson comes in to replace Henry, from Cathedral Road. Thick edge flies fine through third man. Brook, meanwhile, is sitting. Really interesting, considering recent flim-flam. The bloke could be forgiven for exploding wildly into this, on some Mission-to-Prove. But nope. Malan’s doing the walloping. ‘I’ll just sit’.

Finally, the Real Brook (of boomtastic urge) emerges. Clatters Jamieson through mid-wicket. Then again goes hard, and is maybe fortunate to inside edge for no damage. 76 for 0, after 13 overs, with Malan 52 and Brook 23. The visitors, it should be said, have had no luck. Now Ferguson zaps one passed the outside edge: looked sharp – maybe even gathering off the pitch. 

Drinks (for me) means I miss the demise of the mostly-imperious Malan. Some bloke called Root walks in. Air-con working a treat, in the Media Centre but I’m loading up on instant coffee!?!) and water. Oh – and there are about twenty-five journo’s and media-peeps in the house. For the women’s equivalent there would be eight. One brings two: Brook nibbles a bouncer behind. Gone for 26. (It was Ravindra that snared Malan. Dunno how, yet).

Blimey. Stokes nearly follows Brook. Lucky his fend from Ferguson loops cruelly over gully. (Some sense the fielder may have misjudged that, early on. Was airborne for an age – even at ‘live speed’). The game is changed, somewhat. England are now 85 for 2, off 17. Plenty short stuff happening. A decent challenge for these two youngsters at the crease. (Root… and Stokes). 

Ground fuller now than at the start of play; which is nice. 

In fairness I know plenty of folks who work at this ground. They will have been working hard for months trying to sell this fixture. They know they are often grafting in a relative vacuum, because the fan-base is arguably smaller than they ‘deserve’. It’s tough filling this ground. And this means prices are now as big as they are elsewhere… which doesn’t help filling the stadium. Not sure I know what the answer is.

Steady start from Stokes and Root. That is, until Root tries to slog-sweep Ravindra and miscues. Maybe the ball was too full? Whatever, he skies it to the man retreating man from the circle. Easily caught. 101 for 3, as Buttler joins Stokes. Not seeing anything that special from the bowler – he produces a right pie to Buttler, first up – but he has 2 for 8 from 4 overs as we stand. 103 for 3, off 21. Jamieson has changed ends.

This is shaping up ok. Spectacular day, competitive cricket. Bowling’s been good but the locals have two genuine worldies at the crease, approaching halfway. Run-rate is below 5, suggesting a fair contest twixt pill and the willow, yes? Buttler drives the first six, straight: Ravindra. Glen Phillips, entering from the Cathedral Road End, will hope that his own spin proves resistant to that kind of biffery. Just the one from the over.

Phillips has bowled a little straight, and a little short, early doors. Relatively unpunished. Now Stokes rocks back and clubs him for four, through mid-wicket. Easily. Largely, both batters are taking the easy ones, from both spinners. Two hours done, fourteen overs an hour. I may have to scoot before the end of this…

Henry, at Stokes, from the River End. My wifi resolutely not updating. On either of the two feeds being offered to me. #FirstWorldProblems.

Both batters are in; 150 for 3; can only be a matter of time before they feel a gear-change is necessary. Off for a walk, to check out the hwyl and to see if that sorts the f**king wifiproblem…

Refuse to let the DEAD WIFI to ruffle my feathers. So will carry on ‘live’ and report on Buttler’s fluky toe-end, which somehow evades the bowler as it doinks bowlerwards. Southee returns, and immediately tests Stokes with one that bounces. No dramas. But then England’s superstar (well, one of) pulls away with absurd comfort, to the legside boundary – bit ominous that, for the bowler. Cannot be long before one or both of the batsmen engage Smash Everything mode. The peach of an off-drive from Buttler, against Ferguson, suggests we may need to add ‘Stylishly’ in to that description. He now has 49, and Stokes 43, as the 36th over is completed. 179 for 3.

Ravindra has changed ends: Stokes doesn’t care. He gets to his fifty with a clumpiferous sweep, over square leg. Hah! Before tamely cuffing it to extra cover, that is. Infuriating end to a goodish-but-somehow-not-entirely-convincing knock, from the English gladiator. Enter Livingstone.

The thought strikes me that it’s rare, indeed, for a fixture in Cardiff at this level to feature so few confident clatters downtown – to the river. So plainly the pitch is either a bit more two-paced than is immediately apparent, or the bowling has been better than it seems from 80 yards away. (It’s seemed competent rather than unplayable, from up here). 200 up, from 39.4 overs. So ver-ry close to five an over, still. Less than you would think this England line-up would score, on a fabulously sunny day, in the capital.

WOW. Livingstone has pressed the boom button. Three consecutive sixes, off the unfortunate Jamieson. Twenty from the over. Here we go?


Yes – pretty much. Meaning Buttler and Livingstone find big chunks of their limited over mojo(s). The stadium gets the lift it needed, as does the England run-rate. (I bin the laptop and surge on, like the batters, upping the ante &/or seeing this baby out on my i-pad. Heroically). 300 seems thinkable, if ambitious.

Livingstone gets beyond fifty. Southee comes in from Cathedral Road. Livingstone falls, driving high to long off. As Woakes comes in, 280 seems likely. I hope I’m smelling food.

Buttler goes, for a solid 72; mistiming, to mid on. Southee the bowler. Willey has the unenviable job of cracking a few with little time in the game. He starts outstandingly – a clean pull middled to the rope. Henry will come round to England’s left-hander, for the penultimate over. Quietish.

Woakes can’t connect with Southee’s slower ball. Then Willey heaves downtown – four. Helpful cameo, from Willey, as some clean striking and quick running get England to 291 for 6 at the close. Unclear if that’s par. We’ll see.

THE REPLY.

Is steady. More cloud cover and more shadows – not sure how that works. Topley struggles for line and Woakes is unable to threaten. Willey joins us but Conway and Young proceed well enough – and occasionally sparkle their way – to twenty-odd apiece. England may need to play the long game. Big Name Journo’s/Meedyapeeps doing that thing where they pronounce powerfully about such-and-such, relaying stats and opinions to the faaar horizons. Yes. I am bored by that stuff. Meanwhile Woakes beats Young with a beauty: done for length more than by any cut, I imagine. Maiden gets a polite ripple.

The over rate has been poor, today, though I should’ve built that in to my planning. Chez moi is 100 miles west of Cardiff, so gonna leave just gone 7pm to get the train. (Later train gets me home at midnight; current option reduces that to 10.20 in Haverfordwest. Late enough for me, as I’m playing two games of cricket this weekend: only survivable if I pace myself).

Rashid gets the breakthrough, bowling Young. Conjecture in the pressbox surrounds the fact that he bowled it from wide, thereby changing the angles. There was some turn, too – classic leg-spin. Nicholls joins Conway and Root joins us from the river.

At 76 for 1 after 13, the visitors are marginally ahead in the game. Root bowling from wide – notably wide – to Nicholls. There may be some grip for the bowlers. England need a cluster of wickets to really change this. It doesn’t feel *that likely*, so the guys in black have an opportunity, here. First game in the one-day series; would be nice, for them. Tidy over from Rashid, though.

Atkinson, from the River End. Confess it’s the first time I’ve seen him live. Lights come on, as if to focus on the wide he *just bowled*. Looks slippery-quick.

Root has changed ends. Atkinson flashes one past Conway, who has 46. Nicholls nails the hook shot, to go to 13. 99 for 1. Drinks. (18 overs).

Poor, tired ball from Root is clipped away behind square. Then Conway drives sweetly at a full one – too full – it’s drilled through the field, bringing the batter his fifty. But Willey gets Nicholls: could this be the start of something? (Hasn’t felt all that likely. This has been feeling like an orderly-enough grind towards an away-win, to me). England need that cluster. Plenty of runs to find, for sure, but Conway looking in control and neither seam nor spin too scary a challenge. (At which point Mitchell dispatches Atkinson truly splendidly straight, for six). 133 for 2 after 22.

Willey is a player. Bowling with skill and heart. Did okay with the bat, too. Great yorker for no reward.

Topley returns, from the River End: Conway spanks him behind square. England will work at this… but there’s that slight sense of resignation…

Livingstone will have a bowl. Decent call – ‘something different’, to break the proverbial log-jam.

On that bombshell, going to vacate the premises. May update on journey home: fearing a cock-up re my train ticket, so allowing a little extra time to show suspicious ticket inspectors emails confirming *my return journey*. Later, peeps.

Know what? Am going to chill, on the homeward journey. If I get second wind, I may yet add something. But let’s enjoy the frisson around that lush possibility, eh?

On my medium-traumatic journey home, I see that the visitors did indeed cruise to an eight wicket win. Fairly chastening week or so, for our men and women. Work to do.

Taunton.

~ bowlingatvincent ~ Leave a comment

So we’re done then. The #WomensAshes, I mean. Hard to gather it all in to a single event, to be honest – maybe that will come later. For now, as always, I include the relatively-stream-of-consciousness response to the action, live. The feel of what happened. I make no apologies for the distracted/abstracted nature of this ‘report’: most of you will know it’s what I do. I *might* apologise for traducing the level of support, at Taunton, initially; I am aware of the tradition down at Somerset for Proper Crowds. It’s just that for the start of the game, cocooned within the Media Centre, we simply did not know that hundreds (nay thousands) of folks were delayed in queues at the gates. Ultimately this was a strongly-attended, well-contested match. Now read on…

I banned myself from writing anything. Until now. 12.32.

So no mention of the annoying arse on the train… or the muggy walk in. Or the hugely tasty (and well-received, in this quarter) Indian fodder, provided by our friends at Somerset CC. Or the genuinely *really charming* ground-staff. Because this is a new regime. Sleeker; more Proper & yaknow, Growed-Up; less of the nonsense.

Won’t last: not meeee.

Australia have just won an amiably amateurish toss and chosen to bowl. Fair enough. Great conditions, with just a gentle breeze and plenty cloud cover. Kinda medium-bright. The kids are out, waving their flags, a-rhythmically. Think this has been pitched as a ‘sell-out’ – they often are, when they aren’t. This ground is currently (12.49) about a third full; or rather the seats are. (Transpires there are still biggish queues at the gates: fear of Just Stop Oil – whom I support! – has caused some delays. As I write, seats are filling. Ultimately, it may be at capacity.)

The trumpeter is playing a rather irritating ‘Jerusalem’ as Gardner finishes her first over to Dunkley. Then our brassy friend catches the mood rather better with the jaunty Steve McQueen number.

Schutt will follow Gardner, from the Marcus Trescothick Pavilion End. Dunkley is looking to hit hard but is mistiming… but no dramas. Australia’s quick is looking strong: built a bit more like a sprinter than a year or two ago. (Gym-work? Or is this another Waltonian fallacy? Dunno). I did note to the universe of twitterdom that Schutt is wearing a heavy bandage to support the right knee, but moving ok.

A quietish first 2: England 6 for 0. But no. A straight one from Gardner draws a heavy thick edge – Dunkley doing that trademark slash across the line. It steeples and she is well-caught by Litchfield, racing back from cover. Knight marches out early: Dunkley made only 2. She is a fine, attacking player but there are risks associated with that grip and that batswing. If she has a dip in confidence (and scoring), we’ll hear more about the relative extravagance of her technique.

Schutt is in to Beaumont. She gets that early swing (but it is early). Somehow the batter is either slipping or so badly out of kilter that she cannot get anything on a ball arcing at leg-stump. She’s out, falling over, bowled. Early trouble, for England, with both openers gone for a total of 4 runs accumulated.

On the plus side, this brings together Knight and Sciver-Brunt, arguably the best batting combo on the planet. (*Fatal*?) After 6 overs the home side are 19 for 2. Enter Sutherland. The ground is now somewhere between two-thirds and three-quarters full, I would say.

Sutherland goes shortish at Sciver-B but the tall all-rounder gets above the bounce and cuts, hard. Less convincingly, S-B inside-edges to fine leg for a streaky boundary. Schutt is bowling unchanged, from underneath us. Overdoing the drift towards leg – wide given. Attempted yorker then tucks Knight up… but missing: no dramas. Tidy opening spell from Schutt – 1 for 14 off 4. 67 mph, typically.

Sutherland runs in with purpose but Sciver-B biffs her straight for four. Good racket from the crowd, who are already into this. Suspect a good percentage of the noise is alcohol-free, too – schoolkids here in some numbers. Seats still filling, too…

Did I mention that both teams have stayed pretty close to their recent ‘first teams?’ Alana King and Charlie Dean both play, but I do wonder if the coaches might have rotated things a little more, given the last game/dead rubber scenario. Succession Planning; Experience; all that? A firework-deficient spell: Knight almost breaks out with a nutty, well-timed guide through point but just for 1. 47 for 2, after 11, as the aforementioned King joins us from the Trescothick End. It’s brightened.

Starts with an ambitiously full, floaty one: driven for a single. The bowler is looking for turn and getting a little. Beats Knight. But then Sciver-B can ease into a half-volley and drills elegantly for 4, taking her to 21. Knight is on 19 as Gardner returns, from the river.

Next over. Knight is advancing at King. Lofts with conviction for 4. Then there’s a stumping shout against her… but the foot had slid back promptly enough. The batters know they are at bare minimum, run-rate wise and are looking to raise it. Good contest(s) developing. King is clubbed over mid-wicket twice – the second crunching into the ‘rope’ – so 6. Ground full now and yeh, we’re all enjoying.

McGrath for the first time, from the River End. Run-rate has picked up – now level 5s. I need my shades, to look out from the Meedya Centre. Lovely. 84 for 2, after 17, as we have drinks. Feels like England’s Finest might be moving into Dynamic Phase: both batters beginning to strike with power and purpose…

Wareham. Sciver-B misses out on a drag-down. Knight doesn’t. Mixed over, from the bowler. Length offered and a little width, too. McGrath will look to haul this back in. Does okay.

Wareham’s right-arm leg-spin is back on track: that might have been a maiden(?)

Knight on-drives McGrath past the diving mid-wicket – just the 1. The bowler is mixing this, with back-of-the-hand following an injection or change of pace. Good work from Australia as the threat of momentum is stalled. Wareham now teasing Sciver-B, who is using her feet but unable to get the drives away. 100 up, in the 23rd for England but Aus have won this last five over mini-game on those proverbial points.

Now Wareham bowls a loose one – a big full toss – and gifts Sciver-B another (chanceless) 50. My god she’s good: tall; athletic; hard-hitting. She blasts one straight at me for another 6 in the Vee. Look out – now she’s flipping McGrath over her left shoulder. And Knight is following her to 50. Run-a-ball stuff, now, as the batters execute the Go Hard strategy.

Ooof. From nowhere, McGrath is putting down a relatively straightforward return catch. Juggled then dropped. Sutherland has changed ends. She’s got that fluent run-in going, to challenge Sciver-B. 68mph: beats the batter. A brilliant stop out at deep square: repeat – good contest.

More changes, because Australia need the partnership broken (even though it’s not currently taking the game away from them). Gardner from the River End, turning that key, slapping it flattish. 130 for 2, England, off 27. Just under fives.

Sutherland’s natural length may be a tad short for Taunton: Sciver-B is pulling her away for 4, to deep square. Free hit: the bowler responds with a slo-mo wide of off but Sciver-B can only thick-edge it tamely to backward point. (No damage, of course).

If Knight and her partner can stay a while then what’s thinkable, score-wise? Towards 300, if they can launch? Capsey, Jones and Wyatt to come – all dynamic players. 270 achievable but there are caveats around Jones (always) and the relative lack of boom as we descend the order. In short, Knight and Sciver are The Finest We Have and have the skills and temperament to go deep and BIG. They are Option One: here’s hoping.

Sciver-Brunt sweeps beautifully, and hard: 4 more. Schutt replaces Gardner, as Healy again shuffles. Then we have King, and again Sciver-B lofts her precisely and safely over mid-wicket. Just the 1.

The change finally pays. Knight has been untroubled but for that nagging feeling that she/England have to raise this a little. She charges but loses her shape – her head – trying to cart through leg. Bowled, by a straight one. Good innings from the skipper, who made 67. Strangely, the loss of the wicket may offer an uptick in expansiveness, because now we have the precocious Capsey.

Schutt is in to Sciver-B but is short. Clumped to cow for 4. Schutt goes much fuller. 168 for 3 after 33. Level fives. I need some fresh air…

Our first sight of Jonassen – I suspect because they fancy her against Capsey. BIG MOMENTS, because both sides will know that Capsey can score quickly but there may not be *that much* beyond the next batter, Wyatt. So this could be 280, or 220 all out. Asitappens, Capsey is out; for a handful. Australia back in the box seat at 180-odd for 4, with 37 overs done.

Wyatt tries a ridicu-flip against King. Gets away with it, but it will hardly boost her confidence. Sciver-Brunt is into her 90s. And now 99. And now, off the hip, to 100. She really is quality. Fluent; ‘natural’; strong; ‘cute’. *And* she keeps doing it against Australia.

Our Nat aside, Wyatt is the best athlete in the England side: great fielder, has skilled hands with the bat, can really leg it. She gets a 2 that nobody else would chance, to bring up the 200. Still feels like 280 will be necessary to compete, against this lot… but 300 remains possible. Beautiful, deft late cut from Wyatt slides away quickly to third man; might be shot of the day. Then slaps McGrath hard through square leg for a second 4 in the over. 210 for 4, off 41. Wareham.

Wyatt is flying. In to out, as always, with lots of fade into (and generally over) extra cover. 24 off 15. All working, currently. Gardner returneth – she gets The Treatment. Wyatt goes smoothly but with consummate timing over and into the margins. Six! Now Sciver could just sit back and let her partner get on with it: Wyatt goes 6,4, off King. It’s absolutely thrilling stuff. 300 *should be* nailed-on…

Inevitably, Sciver-Brunt joins in. Another fabulous sweep, square. Australia have no answer, just now. Until Gardner bowls Wyatt.

I think it may be a fluke. Not convinced the bowler means to york her. It’s a floaty, looping one that Wyatt may just get an under-edge to. Whatever; she’s been tremendous. 43, in a flash. 250 up, in the 45th. Amy Jones has joined Sciver-Brunt. Jonassen returns from the Trescothick Pavilion.

Jones is lucky, hoisting rather lazily to deep square. Falls a few yards short of the fielder. Decent over for Australia.

Gardner is one the world’s great all-rounders. She will bowl the 47th. King is stooping to stop a reverse. The ball breaks through her hands and strikes her in the face. We break, whilst she retreats for treatment.

Ah. Jones is run out, by a mile, following a brilliant throw from the replacement fielder, Darcy Brown. It’s a pearler of a throw but quite why Jones dug it out thataway, (from her heels, when she might have clipped it away square) may be open to question. However a) brilliant fielding, with the option for b) malicious grumbling, coz King would never have done that! Ecclestone.

Sciver-Brunt, to a rapturous reception, is leaving us. Caught expertly in the classic Aussie style, above her head, fingers up, at the boundary. But *yet another* fine, fine innings. Against the Best in the World. She made 129.

You’ve got to love Eccles. She heaves one unceremoniously (but convincingly, too) for 6. Dean is in there with her, now. Late flourish and England will be close to that 300 mark.

There’s a review: first thought, live – down leg. No bat. Might be contentious, looking at the flight of the ball, but Dean is LBW, bowled Gardner, for 2. Enter Cross. The ball beats everything – four precious byes. England are 280 for 8 with one over remaining. Should mean we have a game. Jonassen, as so often, will bowl out. Clump to deep mid-wicket brings 1.

Ecclestone is not, for me, a batter *but hits nearly everything*. Cross, for me, could be a batter but she’s the one that misses: Jonassen hits. Innings closed at 285 for 9. This is poised, as they say.

You’d think I’d learn. Peaked tooo early again, on the energy front. So less constant warbling, from now on.

Great energy from Cross, as always: fine sight. But Healy nails a marginally full one – driven smartly through the covers. I need food, or drink, or something. The crowd nicely behind England: that could count.

Bell follows and has Litchfield caught behind; Ecclestone taking the catch rather awkwardly, at ground-level, at first slip. (Is she really a slip fielder?) Perry joins Healy. Briefly.

Cross has found a beauty to bowl the Aussie skipper – the ball nipped back sharply. Great start, for England: Australia 15 for 2, in the 3rd over. Delighted for Cross, a personal favourite for her big-hearted flow.

Best part of the day: brilliant light, with some breeze, crowd engaged, game on. It’s McGrath who’s joined Perry. Bell is getting this white ball to swing significantly and getting some bounce. (She’s ver-ry tall). Perry is fortunate not to inside-edge on. Sure she went for 26(?) in the last over of the last game but I like how Bell’s growing into the Strike Bowler role. I hope she’s demanding that ball first and *really believing* she’s the one. (Having said that, I think Wong may be)…

Not sure if it’s a plan for Cross to hang a few out wide, to McGrath, but she’s been crunched to the point fence twice now, so maybe change? Aus are 40 for 2, after 7. Ah. Bell did that hang-it-out-thing to McGrath. 4 more.

First change is Nat Sciver-Brunt from the River End. Perry is watchful. Ecclestone will come in from t’other end. She’s on it: powerplay done at 53 for 2. Australia up with the rate. Interestingly – or not – the breeze may have stiffened. Flags and trees to my right looking livelier. It may be troubling Sciver-Brunt, who has bowled a couple of wind-assisted legside wides. Maybe that fuelled the sharp bouncer at the end of the over? Jones did extremely well to grab that – high, to her left.

McGrath advances ambitiously to Ecclestone. Wrong! She is stumped, stranded and painfully stretched: Mooney replaces. 68 for 3, off 13.3. 1 for 3 off 3, for Ecclestone, at this juncture. Knight opts for Dean at the River End.

Greyer, out there. The heavenly arc in front of me is 82.4% cloud-cover. Should be of no relevance but Australia 30 runs behind the Duckworth-Lewis score, at this moment. But the atmosphere, meteorologically, is different. (I just went to look). Floodlights.

Capsey will have a wee bowl. Rain. Off they go. 97 for 3, off 19.2.

So a moment for a few #WomensAshes ‘conclusions’. Firstly, if I’m in the Oz coaching group, I’m not that happy with how they’ve gone. Absolutely not dominant: sometimes – in the wind, in Bristol – closer to messy, with the ball. Some of this is to England’s credit, of course: but not sure Australia have played to their maximum, on this tour.

(I interrupt this speculative opiningment to report that the whole set of covers is now being dragged on. And the shower appears to be passing… or not).

England, meanwhile will be clear and hopeful that they have indeed closed The Gap, on the juggernaut-tastic visitors. This series has been close. However, just me, or is it mainly the old(er) guard who have again been largely responsible for the local’s gain? Sciver, Eccles, Wyatt, Knight. Goodish contributions from elsewhere but the Dunkleys/Capseys/Bells, whilst contributing, have not psurged to another level.

But that may be a) inevitable, or b) unnecessarily negative. We’re closer, man! Bell is growing; Capsey is at the right level. Dunkley may need a performance to underline last year’s emergence but she is under no immediate threat. For me, ways forward include dropping Amy Jones, giving Wong more opportunities and persisting. Resources of all kinds are in reasonable order. Continue the hard work to improve fielding and the up-skilling of ‘non-batters’. Do that thing where you both reinforce confidence and make clear that there are good players knocking at the door. This is international sport and the non-negotiables increase and expand month by month.

18.21. We still have a little light drizzle. I’m checking train timetables. You?

As I write that it’s re-brightened. The Lads are removing the cover pegs, meaning they expect to haul them off imminently. A nod towards the scoreboard confirms Australia are 20 runs behind, on DLS, as the covers do indeed disappear. (With that, stadium announcingment: 44 over game, re-starting at 18.50pm. I take a quick wander; still raining but maybe improving from behind the Abbey, which is where the weather’s been coming from).

Update: Aus will need 269 from the reduced game. (Pleasingly, somebody ballsed up the maths, first time around. #humantouch).

100 up, for the visitors (also pleasingly) smack on the 20 overs. Dean.

Foolishly the off-spinner concedes firstly a no-ball and then a 6, to Perry, who goes beyond 50, again, again. This batting pair of Perry and Mooney may be Australia’s Knight and Sciver-B. Worryingly. Cross is in from the Trescothick Pavilion End – meaning she has changed ends.

Unknowable if conditions are tougher, post the rain – nobody’s wiping the ball. Perry may argue that case; she is caught off a leading edge, by Capsey, at point. Cross the successful bowler. Gardner joins us: the Gardner/Mooney partnership could be Australia’s Knight/Sciver-B combo. (Lols).

Dean is getting some turn, to Gardner. Australia are 120 for 4, off 23.

Cross strikes again! Full, at Mooney, who can only drive to Ecclestone, at regulation mid-off. Comfortable catch, big wicket. 120 for 5 and advantage England.
Two new batters, with Sutherland joining Gardner. Impressive, classical straight drive for 4, from the former, to get off the mark. Still a touch of away-swing, for Cross. Against the wind. Knight doubles-up on pace: Bell. It may be irrelevant but Australia are almost 40 runs behind the DLS target.

Good energy from the kids in the ‘schools only’ stand. Every half-decent bit of fielding gets a generous roar. Stadium announcer confidently booms out the 38th contradictory runs total needed. *Imagines both dressing-rooms going WTF, loudly*…

Gardner may be rising. Strikes Bell majestically downtown. 6. Then cracks her square to the same conclusion. Then 4 more – last two were short and too close to the hip. 155 for 5 after 27. Some signs of nerves? Cross has just bowled a dreadful bouncer – wide! – and followed it up with something eminently cartable. (4). The bowler tries a slower one; it’s boomed past her left hand. Gardner is rising. But not.

Criminally (arguably), the Aussie star is run out, despite diving about forty feet: Wyatt typically bright in the field. Wareham joins Sutherland, who has 8. Gardner made a characteristically dynamic 41. Sciver-Brunt replaces Bell at the River End, then Ecclestone is in front of your Honourable Scribe. England going for the jugular?

30 overs. England significantly ahead, surely – because of those wickets? Australia 6-down, needing either 93 or 103, from 14, depending on the next announcement. But Sutherland and Wareham can play.

Review for a stumping. Sweeeet work, from Jones, as Wareham misses a wide one. Sciver-Brunt delighted and the crowd all over it. (They’re loving Wyatt’s work in the field, by the way; she is, after all, the World’s Best). Jonassen will come in, with work to do. Interesting change: Charlie Dean.

It works. A voluptuously loopy one castles Sutherland. Game over – with apologies to Alana King and Megan Schutt.

Be nice if Lauren Bell can grab a couple of late wickets. Wild swish from King offers some hope. Steepler… but where’s it going? Straight, straight up… and into the watchful Jones’s gloves. Nine down, 194 on the board. Start the car: Jonassen is tidy enough but this can’t last, can it?

No. Dean has been spinning it. She finds the outside edge and Jonassen is caught with ease, by Sciver-Brunt, at point. A deserved win for England, who get a lovely reception as they march off. Australia have retained the Ashes but *this has been a competitive series*.

The winning margin here in Taunton was 69 runs (DLS). Compelling rather than inviolably brilliant? Maybe. But it’s important that Australia, unchallenged for so long, feel the squeeze from some direction: the world game needs that.

India, are you now ready to step up?

Could be my End of Season. Thanks for supporting; until we meet again. 🙏🏼 🏏 💖

I did warn you.

~ bowlingatvincent ~ Leave a comment

Tea, day 2. England are 503 for 2, leading by 331. The stallholders, barmen, security staff and grandees of the Home of Cricket have been charging the home balcony to plead the case for spinning this out, somehow, into day 4. Livelihoods depend on it. Relationships depend upon it. The ice cream parlours within the postcode depend upon it. ‘Steady on, Stokesy! Get the lads some batting practice – bring back Trotty or David Steele or somebody. Get Broady to extend his run. Get Stop Oil in to cause a ruckus. Just give us a fekkin’ fourth day!’

I did warn you. (Read yesterday’s post). Ireland had to do lots of stuff *ahead of* going after wide balls or ‘trying to be positive, form the get-go’. Firstly, probably, they had to be aware that – despite what the sports psychologist & the coach might have been saying – they had to give themselves some kindofa chance… by staying in the game. Priority Number One.

Instead, two or three of their better batters took on minor risks and paid a high price.

A brutalist view might be that the game was dead by lunch yesterday. And therefore England’s jolly romp (and Ireland’s wilting in the field) – whether that be through nerves, poor execution, or just the inevitable consequence of a strongish, in-form side meeting opposition of manifestly lower quality – has been a result of seemingly inconsequential, seemingly minor errors of choice. Cross-bats, slightly lazy movement, or unwise advances. (Bye lads. 20-odd for 3).

Now, live, Pope has smashed a six to get to the fastest double-ton by anyone, in England. Before dancing down and getting stumped; bringing the declaration, at 524 for 4. Meaning up to 30 overs of Broad, Potts and Tongue, tonight. It may well be thrilling – possibly even for the fans in green. But such is the squishtastic England advantage, any kind of restorative rearguard action from Ireland feels deeply unlikely. Sadly.

Broad starts with a maiden. No hooping; no real alarms. Then Potts.
Moor and McCollum are out there, trying to be grittier and doughtier than very gritty, doughty things. If you can separate things out, you might think that conditions are goodish, for batters. Lush sunshine, ball initially doing bugger all, pressure (bizarrely?) more off than on them. (The game IS dead, surely?) But clarity and separation and cool, cool-headed-ness are hard to find, eh?


Potts bowls an absolute peach for no luck. Then immediately McCollum whips to leg and misses. Concerning. Full enough and straightish but nipping too much. The Durham quick looks robust, skillful, sharpish: is he top, top level? (I mean in international terms?) Not convinced – but do like him. Time and opportunity will tell.

Moor is extravagantly ‘textbook’, in defence, to Broad. Good. Head, elbow, eyes. Forward when he can. McCollum follows the pattern, to Potts. Good. Some nip, for the bowler’s off-cutter; possibly tailing in, too. The openers reeking of watchfulness, encouragingly. McCollum breaks out when Potts offers a smidge of width – four. 16 for 0.

Enter Tongue, who gets Moor with his very first ball of the day: his pace telling. Maiden scalp for the bowler, who went well for no reward yesterday. Moor was late on it, but the speedo-thing is suggesting 82, only. Felt quicker to this viewer and was too sharp for the batsman.

Balbirnie, on a pair, drives Tongue smoothly enough… but then the Irish skipper gets a top edge to one and Bairstow can pouch. Two wickets in the over and a further sharp intake of breath for the Irish. They may not share the sense that the young quick *may have earned that*, with yesterday’s debut performance. They may just be crapping themselves.

A second look at that Balbirnie dismissal confirms the presence of what the pundits often call brain-fade. It was – for him, a seasoned international player – a bloody disgrace. Weak, lazy, glazed-over-eyes job. Unedifying.

If this was Newcastle or Arsenal, you might suspect that McCollum’s susbsequent, protracted injury was tactical. After all, Ireland need to ‘break up the game’ – ideally for about another 30 hours. But the poor bloke has twisted and fallen at the crease and is clearly in pain. We do lose ten minutes or so, before Stirling is whirling his arms at the crease. Tongue is fired-up and at him, slapping it in and drawing some cut from the pitch. Smothered. Ireland are 28 for 2 after 10 overs. With McCollum crocked.

Stirling is getting his eye in. Clubs Potts compellingly and boldly through the covers. He has 9 from 9, which is his way. He eases Tongue through point then takes on the pull next ball. Mis-times but no dramas. Drinks, a handful of minutes after that prolonged stoppage… in which everybody who needed one probably had a drink.

Leach will join us. Spearing with some purpose, again. Yet another good shout, from Stokes, you sense. Just looking to challenge, or re-challenge, at the right moment: spacing those changes immaculately. Leach rarely really turns it, we know that, but he’s extending that loop again, to get the ball right into the toes, or under the bat.

Tector, from nowhere, has had a thrash at Tongue. It goes for six, but heralds some testing short stuff. 58 for 2, Ireland. Big appeal, from Leach… but he will not push for the review: begging the question. Tector is notably fuller with his batswing, but mixing that with legitimate resolution. (Not sure the fella can bat, mind). 🙃

Bairstow and Tongue seem clear. Stirling has clipped it as the ball passes across his ribcage. Is it glove? It is. Gone for 15. 63 for 3. Tucker is welcomed by a real nasty one: Tongue, who now has three wickets, bending and slamming. Helmet. That’s an ugly, scary way to start your knock. Another interlude – understandably. Unfortunately for the newcomer to the crease, this will only encourage the chin-music.

Dreadful ball from Leach gifts Tucker a way in. Four to the leg boundary. Silly mid-off in, and slip. Lovely, evening light; rich shadows. Tector has battled to 23.
Tongue has three men back. Bowling about 84mph. Strikes me that though his movement has looked a tad restricted, Bairstow’s keeping has been good. Lot of leg-side takes as the quicks slap it in.

Leach has bowled one or two – and therefore one or two too many – gimmes, wide of leg stump. He concedes another boundary. Meanwhile Tongue has bowled eight overs ‘straight’, but this period has included those two breaks. Solid effort from the young fella. Has 3 for 27: looks bit tired, as he retreats to the boundary.

Finally, Leach rips one past the bat: Tucker helpless. Will we see late drama? Maybe. Broad is wheeling away, prompting knowing nods and approving gestures in the crowd. Here he comes. A thoughtful twiddle of the headband and he will come round, to Tector. Legside field. Highish percentage of bluff?

Two short ones, one duck from the batter. Then variable bounce becomes a factor – mishits or airshots. But no dramas. Two no-balls in the over as the old warhorse charges.

Things almost quieten. But then (of course) Broad makes something happen. Short ball, looks to have struck glove. But no. Chest: as you were. Tector can even respond with a smart pull, middled, to the boundary. 92 for 3, with the last over of the day approaching.

Leach is in again, bodies around the bat. Legstump line, by accident or design. Probing, but Tector and Tucker have manfully seen this out, with Ireland 97 for 3 at the close.

Decent and important effort from the surviving batters; just the small matter of 255 runs to find. With some luck we’ll see a meaningful lump of cricket on the morrow. Or, perhaps more exactly, the visitors might claw themselves towards respectability and extend the game-time. There is some value in that.

Plus sides…

~ bowlingatvincent ~ Leave a comment

England beat South Africa by 114 runs, at Bristol, with Sophia Dunkley’s 107 being the standout performance. But this is sounding like the BBC so best get back to the original live blog, brought to you as usual in Reckless Kaleidocolor. 😎

Major plus side. As I sit down and the Friendly Supportive Earthling plugs me into t’internet (don’t ask), Ismail is bowling. It’s unheard of for me to be late but the reality of Shabnim I racing in, 78 yards directly in front of me, obliterates the 437 hassles experienced to actually get here* a mere three mins en retard. So breeeeeathe; in any language.

(*Friends, if you fear that at some stage I’m gonna recount those wee adventures… then bear with. Am not sure how time/events/energy is going to tilt that particular indulgence. If I do go there it’s because there may be some amusement in the contrast I’m picturing between my experience and that of the Sky Team).

But cricket. Beaumont and Lamb take England to 25 for 0 after 4. Beaumont, in particular is showing what the TV Peeps tend to call ‘intent’: this continues, as she biffs Kapp square to the boundary for four more. She is 17 off 16, at this point.

I take a bad picture for the website, knowing it’s temporary. The air-con in the Media Centre is spectacular, cooling my audaciously bare feet and ab-so-luuut-ely settling the system (after *those distractions) in much the same way that the England openers are easing into their work. Beaumont got one high on the bat but no dramas; Lamb is now extending through the ball. 50 up after 9 overs. When Kapp offers Lamb a little width, the batter clatters her fearlessly past the diving fielder at cover. Ominous for the visitors.

I like Bristol but it’s one of those grounds that rather defies appreciation. Not grand, no real whiff of glorious/epic romance, a la Taunton or Worcester, but open and full of sky. As the sun floods more convincingly through, the heart does lift; gently. Despite the Big Guns – Kapp, Ismail and the other returnee Khaka- getting into their spells, England are coasting at 71 for 0 after 12 overs. Pitch looking placid but true: big score feasible.

O-kaay it’s a half-volley but Lamb crunches Ismail through extra for a genuinely stunning four. We’re nearly into alarm bells territory for South Africa: it’s notable and clearly unhelpful that their fielding has already proved a little slack. This is plainly a day for maxxing-out on any little opportunity but there have been three or four mistimed dives or barriers out there. The skipper, Luus, may have work to do to maintain intensity and discipline, which will be disproportionately important today, you sense.

At this point I note to the universe (and to Advisory Brainy-Bastard Rich Hudson, to whom I send genuine, comradely greetings) that I have only inserted one non-mischievous hyphen into this fantasmoboog, so far. And yes, Rich, that has taken a degree of application I can only describe as exceptionally against-the-grain. You are not alone in questioning my wildness. But cricket.

Drinks, at 16 overs. No wickets down. Both batters beyond 40. The feeling that South Africa are going to need a break, or the dip in focus from the batters that so often follows a pause, to get any purchase on the game. 93 on the board: perfect batting conditions; strong, streetwise operators at the crease. Knight and Sciver and Dunkley and Jones to come. Carnage possible. Mlaba has a review, almost immediately. Poor. Missing by miles.

De Klerk is in from under the flats at Ashley Down. A shortish one is cuffed rather unconvincingly over midwicket, almost offering the chance. Mis-stroke but 100 up in the over. Ripple, from the relatively small crowd then a touch more animation, as Lamb gets through to fifty. Beautiful summer day now, with a light breeze making playing conditions pret-ty close to dreamy. Lamb in particular is into that groove where the bowling is being picked off, more than faced. Impressive.

De Klerk is thrashed hard at Ismail. Neither a chance nor a strike you want to get in the way of. The fast bowler bravely puts something (anything) in the way, to keep it to the single. Lamb goes to 61 and Beaumont has 47.

Have been open, previously, about the fact that England are simply better, currently, than South Africa. Despite being a non-neutral, I’m thinking it may not be great if Knight’s Posse win this by the proverbial country mile. Resources are unequal, with only England and Australia being legitimate powerhouses: even India are a notch down on the squad depth/support/funding level of the two lead nations. So no issues around the visitors here being gently schooled. In time, of course, we want that Aus-England dominance to be authentically challenged.

Accreditation Business means I miss the wicket of Lamb, who had looked bombproof. Shortly afterwards Beaumont swings loosely at Kapp and the ball flies at catchable height to mid-on. Dropped. Not an outright clanger but the bowler will be justifiably angry. The fielder (Mlaba) simply didn’t move athletically or sharply enough. England might suddenly have been 130-odd for 2, with a little counter registered. Instead the traditionally dynamic Dunkley and the consistently steady Beaumont can build higher and further. The day may have brightened more: suspect this is further evidence that god is an Englishwoman – or Welsh?

Almost hilariously, Beaumont has cramp in the fingers. The ‘keeper is applying medical science of an agricultural sort, by bullying her glove off, then ironing out the hand, brutally, albeit with the batter’s consent. Eventually, somebody with O Levels in Hands is sent for.

I go for coffee and return to see Beaumont marching off. (WTF?!?) Now England are 147 for 2. Which is almost great for South Africa except for the inevitable consequence: Natalie Sciver. Still, plus sides.

150 is up, in the 29th over. So arguably steady, now, rather than intimidating, from the hosts. But such is the power of Sciver that this may just be another ‘platform’ from which she can leap. Ismail is back, to keep the new batters honest (if possible) and Tryon follows, from Ashley Down. Fascinating and probably key part of the match. Six bowlers now used: figures, given playing conditions and personnel selected. Change and flow-prevention an essential part of the visiting captain’s armoury. Drinks (2) at 30 overs and England are 158 for 2.

On the return Sciver hooks an Ismail bouncer but miscues. The ball loops harmlessly into space. Two statements made, I suppose but the batter’s positivity was of the loose variety and will therefore offer a little hope for South Africa. England’s reflections at the recent break will have surely have pointed towards both aggression and longevity for the current occupants of the crease. (As so often remarked) Sciver is a worldie and Dunkley may be the faster accumulator in the group. No -brainer to keep them in there for a heavy lump of overs.

Mlaba is teasing Dunkley and the batter is dancing down… then thinking better of it. Proportionate Restraint in operation, for now. Finally seeing the Beaumont dismissal: slightly casual miscue, to mid-off. Made 58, including 6 boundaries. Will be thinking she’s missed out, on this deck, against this opposition, for sure.

Weirdly ungainly thick edge, from Sciver, against Khaka. Fortunate to evade the offside ring. Had gone forward but badly misjudged.

Luus has a longish chat with Mlaba, presumably to press for tight focus. The visitors have done reasonably well in the last ten overs: somehow they must find a way to tie down England’s two most fluent stroke-makers. Ah. Full-toss smacked away through extra by Dunkley, who has moved to 37 not out without engaging her more expansive mode, as yet. (It’s surely not far away). 200 up in the 36th. 300 a realistic target, for England?

De Klerk has changed ends but is a tad short; Sciver can dismiss her behind square. Dunkley is in that characteristic baseball crouch, slapping away to off. The energy from England is up. Tryon, from Ashley Down, must contain it. Sciver hoists, with care rather than violence, straight: just the one. Run rate remains under 6: feels an underachievement. Think the batters will view it that way and look to launch a sustained attack. Kapp returns, to counter any move.

A brave stop at mid-off, to deny four – South Africa need plenty of that. Everything being crunched, now. A wildish swing at Kapp, from Dunkley, is about 48 hours early. (Bit village). Both batters into their 40s.

Khaka starts with a leg-cutter from the Ashley Down End. No ‘cut’, as such. Dunkley clubs a wide one straight at long-off. Sciver does the same, to long-on. 10 overs remain. Run rate at 5.8. May be enough – may be plenty – but as Dunkley gets her 50 she might well be thinking a boomathon is in order, now. Kapp is deftly cut away behind point, for four.

Batters confer: re-calibrating, surely? 242 for 2 after 41. Well over 300 achievable. My guess is they’ll be looking for 9 or 10 an over, from hereon in – meaning 330(?) Sciver clumps Khaka majestically and straight, for the first six of the innings. She too, now, has 50 and more. Quite possible that both batters may prove unstoppable as we go towards the death, here. (Meaning there will be no ‘death’). Dunkley clouts Ismail – Ismail of all people! – for six. Then follows with a four. Red rag territory.

Ismail predictably bounces. Dunkley has to reach high but cuffs it for 6 more. The ball protests by *disappearing entirely*… and is replaced. 43 overs done and 272 for 2 the score. 340 possible? More?

De Klerk returns to Ashley Down. Dunkley strikes hard again, straight through the bowler. Four – and a sore hand. Ismail gets similar treatment; a punchy offering of the bat, straight. Four more, aerial but entirely safe: Dunkley, suddenly on 83, may yet to a hundred.

Sciver meanwhile, is inventing stuff. She has two goes at flipping Ismail behind. On the second occasion she is bowled, offering the stumps. It’s a measure of Dunkley’s brilliance that Natalie Sciver (who made 63), has been consistently in her shadow, today, playing an entirely unfamiliar supporting role. Enter the captain, Knight. De Klerk nearly bowls her.

296 for 3 after 45 overs. The day remains immaculate. Dunkley can still swing through at Ismail. Knight can and will nurdle to offer the in batter the strike. (Except no. The 300 comes up via an unattractive swipe, from Ar Trevor, who edges through the vacant first slip area. ‘Clatty’ as we say Up North).

Another heavy heave from Dunkley is superbly stopped at Cow Corner, by Tryon. Looked four. Then Knight is diving successfully as de Klerk gathers the throw. Dunkley goes to 99 with four past square leg and eases to the ton with a forward push. It’s been thrilling. Incongruously, Knight clips to leg gully moments after and is gone. Enter Wyatt, at 319 for 4.

Kapp has the thankless task of bowling out from beneath us. She mixes it up, at Wyatt before Dunkley flip-scoops a slower ball absurdly over about third slip. It’s imperfectly executed… but again on the safe side of insolence.

Cruelly for the visitors, Wyatt misses one at her ankles and it races through for four byes. 340 becomes possible as Dunkley continues to shred the manual. Not quite. Dunkley connects solidly with the final delivery but can only find the fielder in the deep. She is gone for a buccaneering 107 and England close on 337 for 4. It’s likely to be significantly more than South Africa can raise… but let’s see.

Sciver opens the bowling for England, from the Ashley Down End. Clutching a coffee, and (I kid you not) looking to warm up a little, I abscond outside to enjoy some action in warm but shady luxury. Back very soon.

Steyn and Wolvaardt are out there, for South Africa. Facing Bell. The bowler – known mainly for her striking in-swinger – nearly defeats Wolvaardt with what looked like a back-of-the-hand slower-ball. (Not sure I’ve seen that from her before). The batters are busy, as per the requirement and when Scivers bangs one in Wolvaardt clatters her with utter control to the midwicket boundary. A good start, at 31 for 0 after 5.

It’s a true pitch. The visiting openers, like England’s, are looking in some level of control but Lauren Bell is warmly applauded for a maiden over, in the 8th. She is followed by Issy Wong but the young quick is cut, offering just a little width, to the point boundary. A further four comes, courtesy of an on-drive: 58 for 0 after 9.

Wong is a talent and a point of difference. She brings a particular, unusual and arguably a precious threat, via her variety and power but her first two overs, without being loose, do leak runs. She’s a chancer – very different in nature and a person, you suspect – to the other Young Hopeful, Bell. There will be times where Wong is absolutely The Answer… and times where she may be a liability. Meanwhile, South Africa have scuttled on to 71 for 0, after 11 overs: competitive.

Knight turns to Ecclestone who goes ver-ry full and has a shout against Wolvaardt. Nothing. Good over, though and just the right change. Spin from both ends, now, as Charlie Dean will bring her finger-spin from Ashley Down. A double misfield gets Wolvaardt to her 50 in even time – well 49 balls – and reinforces the sense that we have a Proper Game on, here. (Long may that continue). England are not, in truth, forcing errors nor chances.

Ah. Until *that*. Rather inexplicably Wolvaardt cloths Dean straight to mid-on. Real shame for the visitors – particularly as her partner Steyn has been understated to say the least, by comparison. (Has 27 to Wolvaaardt’s 55). Can Goodall and The Quiet One burst ahead? 87 for 1, in the 15th: Dean to continue.

Dean looks to be rising to this. Nice flow about her. (I’m temporarily out at Third Man to her bowling, so difficult to see degrees of spin, but she has applied meaningful pressure. Ecclestone needs to do the same. She is too straight and Goodall can nudge behind, fine, for four.

When Dean returns, Steyn miscues lumpenly straight back at her – is fortunate. But then a review, for lb. Given out and goes to ‘umpire’s call’. A stalled innings is over, for 28. 92 for 2 as Luus comes in.

Dean comes around, to Goodall. Gets the angle marginally wrong and another clip to leg is executed. Heather Knight charges with commitment but can’t haul it in. Following over a nd a sudden thought. Are folks beginning to work Ecclestone out? Just doesn’t feel like she’s the ‘monster’ she was. Familiarity breeding… something less challenging? Dunno.

Now Wong from the Bristol Pavilion End. Wow. Looks like she’s been instructed to blast away. First ball a bouncer, arguably wrongly called a wide, for height. Next delivery fended by a visibly intimidated Luus. Then an unplayable ball flies off the edge. A wicket seems suddenly inevitable and it comes. It’s *all about* Wong’s irresistible energy. The book will say Goodall out caught Bell bowled Wong: it could well say out (pretty scared, actually).

Dean has contributed to The Change but also benefitted from Wong’s next-level kaboomery. Luus falls, chipping distractedly to mid-off. Signs of trouble (or signs that quality is beginning to tell?) Still, with Kapp and Tryon suddenly flung together we shouldn’t go writing South Africa off, eh? these two can play. And the run rate is certainly up there with England’s at the equivalent stage. 120-something from 22. Decent. (But there feel like there are buts, yes?)

Wong is walking back to her mark with every fibre relishing this. She knows she can bring the fire. She knows she can matter. She already has. Credit Knight, the coach and Wong herself, for the sheer exuberance we’re seeing. Tryon is the next to be blown away, half-ducking, half-pulling at a sharp one that catches the edge en route to Jones’s gloves.

132 for 5. Inflammatory guess? South Africa will be all out 180. (*Fatal!*)

De Klerk has joined Kapp. Wong is still at them. The former batter becomes a former batter and (again) she is intimidated out – a short one bringing an instinctive swish and pat in self-defence. Sciver has to reach high to catch but she is well-equipped to do that. 138 for 6.

Lamb is having a bowl. Klapp is defying – as she does. Clatters for four to go to a prompt 26. Chetty is her new partner: what’s she got?

Ecclestone from beneath us. Chetty goes back. The sunshine now muted and the lights on. Some relief in the Walton Camp that earlier accreditation issues resolved. Am now confident a) they ain’t gonna sling me outta here and b) tomorrow night’s post Finals Day air b’n’b thing is a goer. I’m officially official again. 150 up, in the 29th.

Dean is back. To her credit – and I suspect, following encouragement or even instruction from Kapp – Chetty is going at her. Strikes well and powerfully towards deep midwicket. England won’t mind that; plenty of runs in the bank so shot-making suits, at this stage. Ecclestone will likewise be arcing and teasing to draw out those attacking instincts.

Good hands in the field from Bell and Knight and a strong chase from Lamb reinforce the notion that England remain well-focused. Wong is all eyes as Chetty tamely hoists Dean: easy catch, at mid-on. 169 for 7, Chetty made 17.

Kapp may get used to running out of partners but it can’t be much fun, for a player of her quality. She is joined by Ismail, a tremendous athlete and competitor but less-than-tremendous bat. Bell is back, to try to finish this.

England’s tallest player is wicketless, so far, and will be hoping to change that. But Kapp can cope – she cuts for four, then farms the strike. Not even a brief look at Ismail, for Bell. Dean does get that opportunity: has Knight at slip (Ismail bats left-handed). Late in the over, the fast bowler clumps the slow left-armer, just evading mid-off. Fortunate.

South Africa go past the 180 (lols) but Bell does get her wicket – that of Ismail – who over-estimates her ability to clear the field. Easy catch at mid-off; 186 for 8. Kapp is still digging out Dean and Knight is still diving to stop but plainly the Endgame is here. (No offence to Khaka). Kapp gets yet another 50 from 46 balls: *player*.

Despite an occasional clubbing from the visitor’s all-rounder, Charlie Dean now has 4 for 53. Bell will again follow her. She pulls out an extravagant slower ball, which Kapp almost mistimes. Knight is changing things – rightly. Ecclestone from Ashley Down. Kapp thrashes downtown and gets an 80% connection. Good enough for four. She follows that with a cleaner hit, which flies over deep midwicket for a sweet six. (Repeat: *player*).

220 and more – so fair play to South Africa. Kapp looks like she may never get out (as per) but Khaka is hanging on in there…

Whoaaa! Ecclestone forces an error from the visiting goddess. Kapp has dinked one straight back to the bowler. Gone. In this team, in this situation, her contribution of 71 is outstanding… but it’s also just what she does. Mlaba marches out… and duly marches back again; caught mis-clonking, at mid-off, by Dean.

223 all out, then, South Africa. It’s been an entertaining day with some fine work from Dunkley and Kapp and a notably fizztastic burst of bowling and energy-injection from Wong. Dean also showed. The prosaic amongst us may dwell on the obvious gap between the two sides; admittedly that mitigates against genuine, prolonged competition. England will feel they’ve ticked most of the boxes and dismissed a less strong outfit convincingly. The visitors will (I hope) take some encouragement from some aspects of their performance: there were times when they were in it… but they will surely be realistic about the work that lies ahead.

Yes but what does it all mean? (For #ECB #CoachingInsight).

~ bowlingatvincent ~ Leave a comment

A confession.

Having been asked to contribute something to ‘Coaching Insights’, I not only went back to re-read the last issue but also re-watched ‘Wings to Fly 2018’. This, I think, something to do with that inclination to feel (and of course be perceived as) ‘kosher’, informed, ‘worth listening to’.

Setting aside the Coach/Ego phenomenon for a moment –we’ll return to that – I’m glad I did that revision-thing, for several reasons.

Firstly, both resources made me think; think about the richness and challenge that inevitably accompanies the phenomenal range of things coaches do. From being selflessly paternal or maternal guide-mentor to (for example) an autistic child, to hosting conversations-through-practise led, in fact, by athletes at a kind of intellectual as well as physical peak. (See both in Wings to Fly, 2018!)

Secondly, because I wanted to hug or buy beers for one or two of the coaches featured – such was their obvious human decency.

Thirdly, because (in the example of the England Women’s Hockey section) there was a powerfully contemporary, almost provocatively demanding feel to the coaching activity that I felt asked questions of all of us – whatever our level.

The apparent transfer of almost all responsibilities across to the players during Thinking Thursday sessions made me wonder about transfers between coaching levels generally. What, if anything is common?  What can we take and re-calibrate around ability and experience and meaningfully plant somewhere else?

(Do recommend a watch, by the way: you will see brilliant, international coaches – hockey, in this case – really challenge their players. It’s exciting. It may be uncomfortable; it’s very much in line with what we might call the Grow the Athlete, Test the Athlete principle – to enable growth and resilience through player ownership – but it’s exacting, exciting stuff).

So I read and I watched right through and thought wow. Amazing. What a responsibility. What a privilege. How can all that stuff be the same job?!?

Then I thought some more – on and through the labels.

A digression if I may. Anyone else a tad concerned about Jargonistas? Meaning folks who quite possibly being social media fiends like myself, seem to load up any post or hypothesis with impenetrable terminology? As though the need to justify/authenticate/‘establish’ is as urgent as the need to share?

I know in a sense I may be guilty of something similar. However it may be that looking to out-rank or outflank the Ordinary Coach is a rather mean-spirited thing to do –imho.

Of course specialisms and elite spheres of practice have technical terms/jargon, but I for one am slightly discomfited by the air of superiority and separation that can accompany missives from the Performance Posse. I’m not an elite-level coach but this doesn’t mean that I’m not interested in the higher stratospheres: seems a shame that language can be used to exclude me/us.

Get that much of this really is a function of the times, the dangers of Social Media and yes, language… but back to labels. In particular this notion of ‘player-centred’ coaching. What does that mean, anyway?

Let’s let the ideas, the connotations tumble out.

• It means or implies that ‘it’s all about the player’.
• That the coach must sacrifice some part of his or her ego… because the player is key.
• *That means being deeply generous…
• and humble, in a sense – even when as coaches we may be likely to be extrovert or ‘vocal’ or ‘opinionated’…
• even when we’re sure about a way of playing that feels utterly right – that would ‘sort the issue quickly’; we might have to ask a further, better, more generous question, as opposed to direct things a tad more sharply.
• It maybe also implies a particular way of coaching?

There are so-o many things to think about, here. Player-centred coaching might mean in-cred-dibly different things at different stages or strata of the game… or it might mean the same. Or it might be more a philosophy than a practise?

We could go on. We could look for scenarios, for definitions which fit. They could be ace or awful or banale or something. Everything is interpretation.

The fact that this conundrum-fest implies a kind of openness or arguably uncertainty is best seen as a positive. It’s great that questions kinda swamp answers; that though we coaches may never lose our certainties, we learn (hopefully) to treat them as supporting material rather than gospel to be spread noisily, urgently far and wide.

This restraint is a fabulous challenge. At a time when half the universe surely wants to crowd in to Surrey CCC nets to unpick the brilliant secrets of what feels like a return to Traditional Inviolables, shouldn’t we be ditching some of the new-fangled generosity and get back to drilling in timeless, simple truths?

Good question.

Surrey are flying (at the time of writing!) and they are openly trumpeting intensive rehearsal of (and I think trust in) The Basics. Meaning playing straight; being conscious of the value of your wicket; having a ‘sound technique’: the basics, in fact, as commonly, traditionally understood.

(Appreciate that our friends from the County Champions may well argue with some of this interpretation – perhaps particularly the third of those alluring sound–bites – but it seems to me a fairish translation of what many cricket people are thinking).

But does the stunning success of Surrey at county level and beyond have ramifications for coaches and Coach Education broadly? Quite possibly. And does it follow then, that a ‘return to basics’ undermines arguments for player-centred coaching – which might understandably be viewed as a kind of modernist, liberal nonsense? Hopefully not. Surely not?

It does, however, challenge us all.

It challenges the ECB because their lead coaching staff will be as conscious as the rest of us that plenty of sages-of-a-certain-age are nodding wisely and doing that ‘told you so’ thing. Saying that some things are non-negotiable – that there is such a thing as a solid defence and that everyone has to have that before the other stuff. In this way we might understand a surge, forward or back, towards what we might call the traditional.

That shift may happen: not that it’s necessarily the job of John Neal or Martyn Kiel to flinch or capitulate to this year’s model or method. They will nevertheless reflect – that’s what good coaches do, right?

On this point specifically I’m slightly fascinated to see how the language in ECB Coaching Courses and publications might respond over the next year or two. Will the philosophical generosity (player-centredness?) of the Core Principles be tweaked… or not? Does it follow at all that the imprint of Surrey’s successful regime will register beyond… and if so, how? 

Things are complex. Feelings run high. The coaching community, being a mixed tribe, will respond in myriad ways. Surrey may respond to this – by making an inviolably convincing argument that there is NOTHING traditional or ‘old-fashioned’ about their goals or their methods! It really could be that their coaches are as ‘enlightened’ and player-centred as anyone. It just feels like a drift back to demonstrations, in nets, might happen, on the back of whispers from the Oval.

I hope that not too many of us fall into a kind of smugness or vitriol around this. (Let’s face it, it’s all the rage!) To conflate/equate the perceived triumph of traditional values with the need to return to traditional coaching methods would be questionable, in my view. A) Because surely traditional skills and values can be supported by contemporary, less didactic coaching and B) because who knows, really, what’s making the difference?

I am fine with being uncertain about many things. I can see a difference between player-centred coaching as a method… and as a philosophy. I’m not sure where that gets me -other than to a place where I might (coaches might) recognise that the ‘player-centred’ coaching we are doing is so dominated by our own goals or expectations that it lacks utterly the generosity implied by that phrase. It’s so loaded with our perfectly-formed plans that despite our fine relationship with the player it cannot be truly player-centred.

This is surely an issue?

For the term ‘player-centred’ to really cut it, I reckon we’ve got to be talking about a pret-ty radical shift in the player-coach alliance. Inevitably the coach will have certain aspirations – patterns he or she hopes to share and follow. But I think the essence of contemporary coaching has rightly moved towards offering the player the opportunity to grow and to self-direct on that pathway. More or less. According to the individual. Because better learning occurs this way.

Being player-centred might mean providing the context, the activity, appropriate to the recipient individual. But it’s not superficial, ideally. In other words, asking questions and playing games might tick some progressive boxes but may not either really work… or be really player-centred.

The essence of the task is about using your human skills – social, psychological? – alongside those cricket coaching skills to truly, generously develop the player. (This I guess is why the word ‘holistic’ appears, at times like these). We’re back to the awesome, exciting, wonderful, challenging enormity of the role of the coach.

Let me leave you with another quandary – questions deliciously swamping answers, right? If we are now clear what Player-centred Coaching is, does that mean the coach or the player, during practice, chooses how things are done?

Onwards, with a top-end example of a particular approach. It’s widely noted that the mighty All Blacks coaches haven’t done match-day team-talks for aeons. Because the players have already done – and owned – the preparation. So no need for the Kiwi equivalent of Churchillian rhetoric from the coach. None.

Imagine the temptation, when the adrenalin is pumping, to bawl instruction or pour fire into the hearts of your players, immediately pre-match. None. Because the players have gotten themselves ready; you know that – you hosted those sessions.

In cricket the ground has shifted so quickly beneath us that the very idea of a common technique for this or that is somewhere between questionable and outright redundant. Format changes; revolutions in every aspect. So in that intoxicating flux, what might be constant?

Maybe nothing. Maybe the need to learn. Maybe in our case developing the player by understanding his or her needs and skills and idiosyncrasies as deeply as possible. 

We aim to get better. Or we should. That was a central message from both ‘Coaching Insights’ and ‘Wings to Fly 2018’ – appropriately, in my view. (I do read and do watch, by the way – you? Daft not to).

For many of us this might mean exposing ourselves to ideas which in truth may not make us more sure about what’s right. And yet that same exposure may still be hugely beneficial.

Being player-centred, like everything else, is a matter of understanding. Understanding them – as far as possible – understanding our role as coaches and offering a whole lot. A dialogue. A sounding-board. A springboard.

 

 

 

Fundamentals.

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Barney Ronay divides opinion, I believe. Some imagine him a flashy ‘one trick pony’, kicking up his metrosexual hooves as he gallops from hipster-caff to Sarf Landun bookshop, brewing arresting one-liners before unleashing them on the Great (and hopefully Grateful) Unwashed: us. (The fact that the fella supports Surrey plainly weighs against him, here).

But no. For speaking entirely frankly (and never having met the geezer), I hold the contrary view. He is brill – genuinely brilliant, entertainingly, insightfully, lasertastically so – and you are either a Dead Soul or a miserable barsted not to see it.

The man is after really capturing things (as opposed to just recording), through that coruscating wit of his. This is bold, this is generous, this is life-enhancing: it is also borne of the truly creative mind – and bollocks to you if you think that means it’s in any way bad, sad or twisted.

He is also, despite the Surrey thing – lols – a genuine cricket man, with both a personal and family interest in the game. So… why the rant? Read his column, which, incidentally is ‘straight’ and therefore won’t offend those who struggle with the sparkly bits; poor loves.

https://www.theguardian.com/sport/2018/sep/20/surrey-cricket-production-line-county-cricket?

If you haven’t quite been arsed to read the column… you’re ver-ry naughty but here’s a precis, of sorts. Surrey are brill because they had integrity and because they train hard and well and some of this is to do with respecting traditional skills: like being able (in the traditional sense) to bat.

Which brings me to my point; which is about coaching.

I have not taken issue with the drift (is that pejorative? Okay, then shift) in ECB Coaching Principles, towards principles, as opposed to what we might call grooving or rehearsing of skills. And yes, I’m talking batting here, mainly.

The emergence, 3 or 4 years ago of Core Principles as helpful, generous, non-prescriptive, appropriate points of discussion or offering from coaches to players, in the ECB Coaching system seemed healthy, to many of us community or club coaches, at the time.

I personally, as a professional coach in the sense of working full-time in cricket – albeit typically with junior players – felt that given the revolutions ongoing in the game, it may no longer be appropriate to direct players. Coach them through their adventure, their learning, their search for that which works consistently for them (if they are reaching or wanting to reach that far)… but don’t insist on particular methods. So – principles around stillness or stability or swinging of the bat, maybe, but not ‘you have to hit the ball like this’.

As I’ve written previously it’s problematic, if not ludicrous, in the age of Pietersen then McCullum then Ingram or Whoever, to speak of universal, inviolable truths. People keep inventing stuff! It was in this context, I think, that the essence of ECB Coaching moved towards Core Principles – allowing for and respecting individual choice or brilliance or engineering of contemporary solutions.

The revolutions have continued, gathered force, even and the eyes of the world are huddled around us. To the extent that batters are received as being more somehow more guilty than ever of, or responsible for, triumphant inventions and/or crass and obvious crimes against batting. Things are different, things are crazy-present, things are polarised. In one format, things are stacked against the bowlers, in another – in September – it seems that no-one can bat for longer than five overs. Things are different.

And yet here’s an article from a very fine cricket writer, who has access to his County Cricket Club, who are Champions – deservedly – and traditional values and traditional disciplines and skills are being identified as key to the success. Ronay quotes Academy Director, Gareth Townsend –

“We’ve gone back to what you might call ‘teaching the fundamentals’, presenting the full face of the bat, playing straight.”

And again, more generally –

‘Going against trends, Surrey have made a conscious move to make defensive technique a priority in the development stages, believing that the other side, the ball-striking aspect of modern cricket, will happen in any case.’

This is music, of course to The Hundred Haters and indeed most County Championship Cricket supporters. The retreat into (or re-invigoration of) That Which We’ve Always Known. The sure knowledge that there is sure knowledge and that it must underpin the execution and the coaching of batting for any length of time.

And time is the thing, yes? With a world mitigating against, it figures that the patience and the grit and the eking out against the odds – against a swinging ball and a skilled practitioner at t’other end – might be qualities challenged by an oppressive, impatient universe. Might point inevitably towards 60-something all outs. But how great would it be if some of us could flick the vees at all this rushing-to-the-end? By coaching the batting-out… of time?

It could be that Surrey, of all people(!) have started something wonderfully unfashionable. They still have ‘haircuts’ but they also have professional pride, guts, and that profoundly unsexy attribute – stickability. They practice for it.

I have no doubt that the ECB Coaching hierarchy continually review their cultures and that they are ahead of any call to look at whether the generosity implied through Core Principles risks a slide towards sloppiness and poor technical skills. Or maybe more pointedly, towards laziness, amongst a younger generation high on The Now?

Batting long will always be an essential component of Championship or Test Cricket. It has a rare quality – impenetrable to some, quietly loved by others. I’m in that latter camp, from where I wonder perhaps, if some of that niche stuff about ‘playing straight’ might yet prove helpful to the flashing blades, in the boomathons? Congratulations to Surrey and to Mr Ronay, for digging in.

 

The Universe Podcast 1. @cricketmanwales meets Mark O’Leary… & talks MCC University Cricket.

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Please note that this post is very much a companion piece to the preceding feature – On #firstclasscricketersfirstclassdegrees.

I spent some time with Mark O’Leary – Head Coach at Cardiff MCCU.

It’s not what you might call hard-hitting journalism. In fact it’s not journalism. I like the bloke; we talked.

O’Leary is something of a rising star – ECB Elite Master Level 4 Coach, workshop maestro, deviser of wittily wicked drills – who combines the cricket role with teaching on the Cardiff Met academic staff.

We talk about everything from funding, to honoured alumini, to the future for the scheme. Have a listen.

The sharp-eared may notice mention of £76,000 at the ver-ry end of the discussion. This of course related to Mr O’Leary’s fee.

 

Cows and buzzards and crows.

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It’s hard to judge the impact of things, eh? Because we don’t know what people are thinking and in any case surely market research is heavily flawed, or skewed? Questions too obvious, contexts too directed, intelligence too dubious. Figures – even figures – are arbitrary.

Cricket is being measured and moaned about again: it always was and is and maybe the attention is good – or at least potentially good. The Profile is all. The Argument validates Life Itself.

I love that people care so much about cricket – about anything. They dwell on it, or in it, bawling or beaming or nagging away. The mad-wonderful truth could be, can be that cricket is the matrix within which they express their extraordinary brilliance or passion or flair or psychosis. Measure the massiveness of that.

So, I acknowledge figures more than I trust them. I believe in the truth of the madness. And yet.

We Community Coaches, in Wales and elsewhere have been working mainly recently on the huge All Stars Cricket project. I say huge because from the inside it feels big – and yet I’m not aware of as much hoopla around it this year as last. (Has the level of investment in media-stuff dipped? I don’t know).

In 2017 All Stars felt incontrovertibly a once-in-a-lifetime size commitment, a genuine game-changer’ in terms of investment and impact. 2018 feels maybe less extravagantly present but actually I’m clear it’s acting powerfully and it’s not just the figures that bear this out: it’s the experience.

I’m shockingly biased and shockingly pro-cricket but please hear me out; I’m in there, I know something of this. All Stars is a grower, on me, and in terms of its force.

I led the delivery of the (parallel) Chance to Shine cricket curriculum in Pembrokeshire schools in the winter and early spring, and now act as an Activator (meaning I run the All Stars sessions) at a local village club.

Village? Na, on reflection it’s a magical, seemingly movable speck on the rural landscape (for no-one can find it) nestling against a farm, overlooked only by cows and buzzards and crows. It’s idyllic on heartwarming drugs. It’s Llanrhian. Thursday nights the place is wild.

Wales-wide, there are more than 3,200 children signed up to All Stars, this year. (They tell me this is a thousand more than last year). At Llanrhian we have 26, which between you and me, is almost too many.

This signing-up thing is significant in several respects. Children pay £40, for an 8-week, informal course-with-benefits. They get clobber – bat, ball, t-shirt, etc, etc – but they as a family are kindof invited to commit. Commit the money, the time… and then maybe commit to joining in a little, at the sessions.

The design and the marketing raison-d’etre here speaks of gathering families in – ideally ‘new’, non-cricketing families – to a fun-but-guided sporty, family experience. The aspiration is towards not just providing good healthy fun but also the possibility for really rich shared time.

Some parents will instinctively get this; that this rather profound benefit may be there. Others will be too shy or too deep into the i-phone to notice. Fair enough. The All Stars sessions will be frothing over with good energy into which the parents can dip, or contribute, if they so choose.

I have some fantastically bright and busy and yes ‘boisterous’ kids in my group. The quality of listening is mixed, so I’ve already press-ganged in some support. It’s also – two sessions in – feeling part of the process that some parents (maybe surprised at the drift amongst some of their children?) are starting to wander in to games, to join in, in a way that they sense is helpful.

Hope this doesn’t sound like I’m either abrogating my responsibilities as coach, or endangering relationships, here: I remain aware of the issues around both safeguarding and control. It’s just that careful encouragment of positive interactive activity (which turns into family or truly social activity) really might be the icing on this Starry cake. I’m certainly hoping so… and working towards that. Watchfully.

Look, if, despite the cost and investment in time, a thousand more children have been signed up this year in Wales, and if what they tell me is true regarding 71% of All Stars children last year coming from new, uncricketing families, then I think we can put big ticks in the plus column. The data is positive – and there’s plenty more where that came from.

But we need more than that. We need recounted experiences, facts about feelings.

One example. I can tell you, I have seen that many children were, until All Stars or Chance to Shine lessons in schools, relatively or entirely unfamiliar with the feeling of bat in hand. Patently and understandably, this, in my experience, is the case. That’s changing or changed, because All Stars/Chance to Shine interventions have been huge. More children are getting to know the game.

Secondly, the glee factor – remember that? Kids are going ballistic in a wonderfully liberated way, at our All Stars sessions. It’s noisy and daft and over-the-top because the Stars are absolutely loving it. We’re setting them loose more than we’re directing them. I had one lad last week turn up with his broken arm in plaster: Dad said ‘there was no way he was going to miss it!’ Marley grinned and grabbed a ball.

Just this week we (Cricket Wales) Cricket People are trumpeting #4millionNotOut to celebrate that number of children receiving Chance to Shine cricket in some form. A big PR thing has gone off on our patch – da iawn, Milly-May, in Port Talbot! – so we’re full of ourselves, over that one. Doesn’t matter if this figure is less than football or rugby, or more than tennis or netball. Four million cricketing events. Plus the weight of All Stars on top; recently, now, next few weeks, all over – this matters.

The ECB decided that a monster wedge needed to go into junior cricket. Something transformative. A bubble had to be burst, the game had to be shared. Cricket was wonderful but was nearly out of time – or out of its time? Money to Chance to Shine was doubled, to raise the profile in Primary Schools and then something major had to be done to get new families into clubs.

All Stars is no panacea: said before that I know enough folks in cricket admin who fully accept that retention of fourteen/fifteen year-olds and of course the very shape and format of cricket itself are equally acutely important. Of course they are.

But both at the input-of-juniors level and culturally, All Stars is, in it’s gambolling, free-form, radical and hearty-risky way, opening up both the game of cricket and possibilities and understandings for coaching activity itself. This is profound. Slightly crazy, immeasurably good stuff often is, right?

This is your banner.

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The dawn of another county season does bring that slight relief; that things roll on, without *too much* change. Sure, it’s crazy and unsustainable and the apocalypse may well be coming but somehow we made it through. Unwrap your sandwich – coo, beef, there’s posh! – unfurl your paper; get the gloves and the spare jumper(s) out a-and smile.

Re Yorkshire playing 2 home games in April, two in September and one back end of August… don’t go there. Re the stampede of ‘city-based action’ about to swallow up the shires… don’t go there. Enjoy the glorious understated present in that unique, cricketty way: block the rest.

Okaaay you won’t be able to unthink the universe and probably somebody will want to talk but you could – you could – find a refuge in Row Z. You could be that island.

You don’t have to acknowledge that as with everything, there are the two choices: fight like hell or render yourself immune. In this moment (damn right) you’re entitled to enjoy the uncluttered, beautiful, peaceful, restorative now for what it is.

It is precious. It’s maybe an indulgence but hey – no guilt. Going to County Cricket (and obviously by this I mean the longer format of the game) is a kind of political defiance anyway. Being there at any stage, for a four-dayer, marks you out as a soulful sort. You are silently strident, even when choosing not to (yaknow) campaign. You – unlike most – are there. This is your banner. You – unlike most – are defying the drift to dumbness.

Good shot, son. Four.

Hmmm. Tad smug-sounding? To be clear I mean the universal drift or slump, via gaming/crap tv/the instant hit of faux, colorific joy/the short format everything for the (allegedly) submissively unintelligent. The spawn of Education-by-Numbers crunched by Estyn & Ofsted… and Mackie Effing Dee’s. Erm… is that clearer?

Did I say that out loud?!?

‘Cultural’ dumbness, then. The sort you don’t have to be smug about opposing to oppose… but you may finish up sounding that way, eh? The sort that County Cricket fans defy with every fibre, with every no-ball they note, with every paper they rustle.

Hello mate. Yeh good, ta. 

To be clear I mean precious in the joyful, innocent way and political in the philosophical sense: seeing big pictures, feeling the value of things.

Yeh – heard that. Crazy. Can’t see it, myself – let the man write.

But the world conspires against – and you know it. The ECB is broadening access, demystifying stuff. Understand that, but in the process – or possibly by design – the market (which may never have really sustained County Cricket) has shifted, is diametrically opposed, is storming away.

Just don’t know what the thinking is. That’s why I’m hiding back here – not sure I wanna talk about it!

Nothing personal! Have a good day, mate.

So, if the universe can see no further than family-friendly boomathons which leave Proper Cricket exposed – because an indulgence, because ‘a relic with no real audience’ – what’s to be done? What’s the argument?

Will join you for a pint, later. Watching and reading, first!

Firstly, maybe this idea of the market as god might be unpicked, somewhat. The Market is a woefully unintelligent concept, especially if thought of as Actual Bums on Actual Seats. (That is, even if we accept that County Cricket attendances at grounds are somewhere between poor and pitiful, this does not entirely describe support for the game).

Secondly, crowds do not (either) entirely describe the value of the sport. Things aren’t always either simple or measurable.

Thirdly, how does The Market assess the link between four-day cricket and Tests? Critical? Fascinating? Irrelevant? Does it even recognise the eight zillion technical, tactical, psychological, philosophical step-changes up from one to t’other? Does The Market care?

Eighty-ninethly, surely there are multiple markets and things can be monetised in different ways? And/or parts of the game that are bouyant can support parts of the game that are not – make them better, even – so that they move towards a) being more watchable, maybe and b) being sustainable within the whole?

But… hang on. I swore blind I wasn’t gonna get into any of this! Dave… pass the sandwich. Pass the sandwich.

And County Cricket is already broadening, demystifying, shaping up! Okay, the T20 Blast is not perfect, but it’s good! It’s a strongish revenue stream and it’s county-based – and therefore important to existing supporters. I slightly fear all this spectacular dynamism – all these Spectaculars – are an over-reaction, given the progress that was being made.

Did I say that out loud again?

Here’s something: warning, it may be kinda subtle.

Many of you attending County Cricket on this opening day will not be wholly involved with the cricket… but you will be wholly involved with the experience. I wonder if Ofsted or the Ministry for Sport have an algorithm for that?

Wrong mustard, mate, for me…

Conference rise.

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It was a real coup for Cricket Wales/Glamorgan Cricket to get the new ECB Head of Coach Development, John Neal, to open the first National Coaching Conference, held at The SSE Swalec Stadium on Sunday. (Good work on the nobbling-him-early-doors front, from our very own Paul Morgan.)

John is both plainly a top man and the top man in terms of his responsibilities vis a vis cricket coaching in England and Wales. He came across as exactly the sort of authoritative, centred, witty and determined individual you might really want to lead you through… whatever.

Opening up, the former WRU and RFU man did not so much speak – certainly he didn’t lecture – as conduct an exchange with us, which was (despite the fact that it had by its nature to be themed), refreshing, challenging, funny and direct. Those of you who attend vaguely corporate gatherings of this sort may shiver coldly when I tell you he played a series of short games with us but a) he did b) they were fine – they were funny, meaningful and illustrative of his points.

Understandably reluctant to lumber himself with a glib, conference-friendly soundbite, John threw away the notion that ‘this is about Making Coaching Fun’ – before making it fun. He was big on the ideas around the right reflex and how we must challenge our own ease or easing towards judgements which may be wrong; when we (ourselves) are often wrong anyway… and this is fine.

On the process of coaching, Mr Neal offered the following, in essence: that it is largely about the coach being skilled in offering good questions to stimulate self-learning in the player. I am para-phrasing, but speaking privately for some time after his initial remarks, the sense was that John is right behind the idea that

“players must problem-solve: coaching is not about answering”.

After a start that was as provocative as it was informative, the fifty coaches attending were then ushered down into the indoor school at the Swalec, where three top-level deliverers were waiting.

Cookie Patel is one of the ECB’s go-to men for leading Coach Ed. sessions. His brief on this occasion was to share some ideas and principles around fielding; from catching to sliding to stats. Inevitably, he threw in a few nuggety specifics around posture or practice – offerings, I would say, rather than instructions.

So there were observations and some demonstrations for the various disciplines, calibrated for – and then re-calibrated for – different abilities or scenarios, or just to make them more fun. Couple of half-decent fielders were tested: all done with a bit of healthy mischief and a good dollop of streetwise (but also clearly authoritative) cricket humour.

In short Cookie was engaging, sharp, likeable and packed a whole lot of learning into his sessions. There was some gawping at a screen full of prompts or stats but there was a good flow – good energy.

Sharing the space was the ECB’s Dan Garbutt, who beasted his posse of innocents with a chaotic-but-not-chaotic runaround under the theme of Game Sense. This was an inventive multi-game, loosely and briskly set up by Dan, demanding lots of input and application from the participants, in order to a) score runs through targets b) challenge the players’ wits.

Dan intervened only occasionally: he told me rather proudly midway through ‘I’ve offered no coaching points’, meaning this was about inventiveness – movement, adjustment, game sense – from the players. It was crazy-dynamic in a really good way: the coaches were smiling and knackered.

Screened off in a single net area (hard ball work) was Mark O’Leary, lead coach at Cardiff Met and the driving force behind the MCCU side which won out at Lords a month or two ago. Mark was and plainly is into spin.

Tall, slim and alarmingly youthful, ‘Sparky’ bustled his groups brilliantly through all things spintastic. Entry-level under-arm games; progressions towards Rashid-dom; use of visual cues and handy, wristy tips. He demystified stuff and demonstrated, simply but strikingly well, how you might extract major turn. (Certainly he did: the leggies and the extraordinarliy nonchalantly launched googlies turned about a yard – or that’s how they would surely have felt to the batsman). Impressive.

Impressive but delivered with just the right amount of direction, humour and humility. Loved that Mark unashamedly spoke of leg-spin (in particular, though obviously not exclusively) as an art and yet entirely demonstrated how accessible that magic around the art can be. The session, like the balls, fizzed.

In practical terms, Sparky used ver-ry few bits of kit. A builders line between bowler’s mark and off-stick; a washing line, effectively to draw loop and dip; some balls. The rest was ingenuity and enthusiasm – and yes, knowledge.

Those amongst my co-gluttons at Cricket Wales who failed to attend the day may be interested to hear that lunch was generous, tasty and included hot chunks of meat as well as the dainty sandwiches of yore. Well -fed, we sat again to listen to Hugh Morris.

Hugh is CEO at Glamorgan Cricket. I know now – having been in his company on several occasions – that he is also a hugely capable and honourable man, impressively focused on building a successful club, with a strong, Welsh core under-pinned by a truly effective pathway. Hugh knows there are sceptics; he himself joked about the South African rather than South Walian origins of a good deal of the current squad, but I am clear he means it when he talks about developing a county side that consistently reflects its support, its national identity, its base.

The former Glammy and England opening bat majored on the Long Term Athletic Development pathway that he believes – and again, I really think he does believe – must be central to a joined-up, fit-for-all-purposes, enabling structure. He took us through the detail, so as to make the argument unanswerable and impress upon us how necessary he believes the changes are. It was arguably dryish stuff but the gaffer was utterly, convincingly clear that the model of LTAD planning he outlined would be key to achieving the twin objectives of great, appropriate sporting provision and the development of great Welsh players.

Hugh was gracious enough to enlarge privately on the arguments – and the research around them – for some time after his presentation. Plainly, explicitly and rightly he wants Glamorgan to be geared up and ready to bid for and use the (potentially increased) ECB funds to make real his vision. It’s ambitious. It involves considerable culture-change and investment. However, Mr Morris, I can tell you, is committed.

After a few brief questions from the coaches, it was back to the action on the floor, as groups rotated through the sessions.

Dave Leighton is a shortish fella – fair cop, Dave, you made the jokes – who may well have played rugby league (as well as cricket) before his twenty-odd years service with the ECB. He now heads up National Participation in his role as Coaching Manager. Dave twinkled his way through ‘the graveyard shift’ asking questions about his chief areas of concern – ‘beyond Coach Education’ and ‘the club environment’.

Having spoken to him before he addressed the coaches, I was interested to see him in relatively discreet mode: he gave little away in respect of the transformation about to be unleashed: I respect that. However (again privately) he did share his confident expectation that resources will be ploughed into the recreational game… over and above the huge investment in All Stars Cricket. Coaching, it seems, will be recognised, valued and supported (by the ECB) in a way that marks a step-change towards the bubble-burstingly brilliant future envisaged by Matt Dwyer. I wish Mr Leighton had been as clear about that to the assembled throng as he was to me, individually.

Whatever, there’s a theme developing here, is there not?Centred on belief and expectation. Around investment which folks are pret-ty certain is a-comin’. Let’s go back to where this began – to the other Top Man, John Neal.

John was absolutely clear that he has the freedom to make changes happen; that he will do so. Given that his brief is for Coach Development he will broaden the Coach Education pathway, making it possible to improve and achieve in (probably) three newly defined areas rather than (probably) get blocked in the current, suffocatingly vertical structure. He likes the word enablement and he will enable. The money is coming and the ground has shifted and things will happen – are happening.

Final thoughts? Sunday was a good day. For those who participated, it was a blast, a pleasure, it was challenging-but-great. It was well-supported but chiefly by exactly the sort of coaches who support stuff – who always do this stuff. Meaning a) if you are coaching in Wales and you didn’t attend, why not? b) you’d be daft to miss the next one.

There are about forty-seven cricket revolutions going on simultaneously, right now; some on the pitch, some off. The first Cricket Wales/Glamorgan Cricket National Coaching Conference evidenced, echoed and nudged forward that sense that we are entitled to come over all excited, in these extraordinary times, because pound-for-pound, it seems likely that we coaches – we cricket people – may be able to contribute more, expect more, influence more… because the investment is coming. That’s the clear implication.

So, call me an optimist… but I am optimistic. Don’t just take my word for it, mind – all of us the Swalec were buzzing.

Aimee Rees, lead for Cricket Wales Women and a hugely respected coach in her own right, put it this way;

‘today’s conference was excellent – really well organised and all of the presenters were engaging and knowledgable… The standout session for me was on spin, with Mark O’Leary from Cardiff MCCU. I am already looking forward to the next conference.’

Friends, there will be a next conference.