Match Report - 4xi in Watery Premier League Debut

Wick 113 a/o Miles 42
Sinjun Grammarians 10ish
Match Abandoned

Wick: Edmonds*, Copeland+, Miles, Clark, Strange, Cooper, Ritchie, Smith, Taylor, Bendall, Allen

Oppo: Lots and lots of South Africans

New Captain Edmonds Rallies the 4s Before Play

 

 

The story of Noah is a pretty basic one. From memory God decides to clean up a bit and sends some biblical rain down. He warns Noah in advance so he can pack up his family, breeding pairs of every animal he can lay his hands on and some grub into a big floating zoo he has knocked up.

Post the watery apocalypse, Noah releases all the animals into the wild and they get down to the business of restoring nature’s order. Meantime Noah and his family shag like rabbits and repopulate the world. It’s surprising if you believe the Old Testament that the entire planet is not then covered with people suffering terrible genetic disorders, but there you go. This column is not one for philosophical endeavour or for the questioning of belief systems.

Yesterday there was no Ark available when the heavens opened with the Wick 4s at an even 87-5 on a terrible deck. Just the newly refurbished storage hut on Kingsfield.  It is a new testament to the hard work done by folk on Groundforce day that it is possible to get 22 people into the hut without players having to remove scythes or pitchforks from their anii when they stand up as in previous years. But at the same time, sitting down in what equates on match day to a cold stable crossed with an extremely messy laundry that has been knocked through into a cricket shop, is not the way that one would choose to spend their Saturday.

When it came to the repopulation afterwards, Sinjuns’ South African bowlers did the rogering. In ten overs après la deluge the Wick subsided to 9 down for the addition of only 13 runs. Uckerman did not concede a run in taking two wickets in five overs. Wick wickets fell as if the batsmen’s eyes had failed to adjust from the darkness of the Kingsfield shed to the by now blazing sunshine. Gentlemen – only a late flurry of blows from Mr Allen preserved our blushes to post 113.

But it was not a defendable 113. While Sinjuns deservedly were on top in the game after making the most of the condition of the pitch to remove the Wick top order, and later to skittle the tail, they were not so in charge that they should be set a target of 66 runs in 20 overs to win the match. That the travail of trying to build an innings on such a pitch could be triumphed over by 11 swift blows would be a travesty, surely? But that is how the rain rules work.

The Wick were sent into bat on what was a really offensively damp track. The ball created divots from the off and balls ballooned over batsmen and bounced out of reach as the oppo bowlers revelled in being able to bang it in and not concede. Miles was pinged on the helmet and Clark bobbed and weaved in his new lid too. In the fourth over Clark drove one that stopped in the pitch back to the bowler having mentally told himself not to do exactly that.

Harry faced one ball and then decided to ask Phil to run two to long off. Phil is strictly a one or four kind of batsman as you will know and failed to be convinced. Harry, with that distinct crouched running style that reminds this writer of the way in which The Fraggles move around on Fraggle Rock, almost managed to run three to avoid losing his wicket but he was beaten by the throw. When Rob Ritchie, having added a new shot to his armoury, swept at a dobber unfortunately he did so so early that he was through the shot and allowed the ball to balloon off the back of the bat to first slip, the Wick were already anxiously looking up and wondering if rain could save them.

At the other end, Phil Miles was playing a typically robust innings. Like Marcus Trescothick, Miles eschews foot movement and throws his hands at the ball whatever the delivery. This was as effective a strategy as any other and Jonny Allen also used it to great effect later. A cover drive off the back foot was his best offering but by no means the only pretty shot he played. He deserved more but did not add to his score after the rain break.

For the home side Will Strange looks to be a good addition to the squad. One lofted boundary showed much promise but he was skittled by a pea roller before he could really get going. Ed Cooper’s pull shots were timed beautifully and a couple rocketed to the boundary. But he was unable to survive the pitch for long. Jonny made 26 as the innings subsided but could do little more as he ran out of partners.

This track should really not have been played on as it continued to rain. While it was legitimate to start the game, it took too much water and the Sinjuns bowlers could only really stay on their feet by bowling off a couple of paces. They were keen to press home the advantage that they had created but torrential rain during tea finally ruined the pitch.

Without much enthusiasm The Wick took to the field with the adjusted target of 66 to defend in 20 overs. The deck was absolutely unplayable at this point but Sinjuns scented blood and thought they could do the victory target quite quickly if they were lucky.  

Dave Bendall manfully ran in for an over and looked suspiciously at the footmarks after every ball. Old man Smith managed a couple of legitimate balls before slipping and collapsing like a tall tree felled in a jungle clearing in his follow through, presaging urgent negotiation and the end of the match.

Positives to be taken – Miles and Allen’s batting, Strange and Cooper cameos. Negatives: Smith mentioned games played with biscuits during tea and his eyebrows seem to have become incredibly bushy during the Winter lending him a menacing air. Oh. Tea. Absolutely nothing new. J S Sainsbury brought to you with exactly the same skill and dedication as previous seasons. A 6 because this writer’s hopes of innovation were dashed.

If Sinjuns were minded to grumble that we did not simply acquiesce to bowling off two paces and lobbing it up to allow them to win, a final biblical volume of rain came beating down from above as we packed up the stable / laundry / cricket shop to clean away the stain of the match and its unfortunate end. It is only a miracle that some of the worst offenders in the Wick batting display were not the intended targets of the deluge. Edmonds, who had looked quietly furious all day, stalked back to the pavilion quietly pleased.

Oliver bashes it around, but Wick 1XI fall at the last

In my humble opinion the best way to revise for an exam is to play cricket. The other option is to stay at home and revise – and do it badly because you can’t concentrate knowing you should be sunning yourself in white pyjamas. Mr Oliver is clearly cut from the same cloth and he took Saturdays game away at Godalming to catch up on some much needed algebra learn-age. Like a cat he settled in behind the scorers in the scorebox and buried his head in his books. Admirabe. Unfortunately he chose this opportunity to make his most significant contribution for the 1XI to date, albeit ultimately in a losing cause, and so was unable to revise as much as he would have liked. Every cloud…

Godalming 1XI v HWRCC 1XI scorecard

Whilst there was maybe eight 1xi squad players unavailable on Saturday, the team remained strong and offered an opportunity for those picked to make claims ahead of the league that starts on May 10. With daboos aplenty, perhaps losing the toss and batting on a damp dog of a wicket was not an ideal start. Crowther and Tong didn’t last long, and a few interesting lbw decisions later saw both Ali and Malik (daboo) sunning themselves. These four averaged 3.5.

This did however offer a chance for others to make an impression. Ahmed (daboo) and Tughral Zo biffed a few with neither quite reaching 20. Tanveer also fell to the guile of Agge (50 this year and possibly the best character on the circuit – a true gentleman off the field and class act on it).

But then a recovery. Mr Oliver – coming in at 6, an hour earlier than perhaps he would have liked, put together a mature 7^th wicket stand of 50 with Ahmad (daboo). Oliver is a wonderful, classy player full of flicked and booming off drives – not dissimilar to a recently departed Madoc-Jones (he will return from the dark side one day). However on Saturday he was forced to score ugly runs and showed great maturity in riding out a difficult start to end up with 65 at a run a ball. You can add 15 to that score too because the outfield was very big and grass cut to a local Council special standard.

Ahmad in contrast showed he can hit a ball and played very sensibly and simply – block the straight ones, and hit the ones on his legs hard and far. At one stage we would have taken 120, but a score of 175 was a very good response – below par for a normal Godalming track, but given the time of year perhaps only slightly below par. Within that 175 was a great inning from Singh (daboo). After missing/blocking many a ball, he unfurled a mow over cow – Saran Singh Six! Unfortunately the other 10 balls he faced were all dots – but still, a good story.

The Godalming response started slowly (not that ours was fast), and Ahmad and Tanveer both impressed with accurate/hostile spells respectively. Both deservedly got a wicket. But a very tight opening spell failed to lead to a convincing position, and Godalming found their way slowly but surely to 79-3. Singh was given the chance to show his skills, and a promising start was rewarded by the prize wicket of Agge caught in the deep (no surprises there), and whilst wickets started to fall, runs were still being accumulated. Ali impressed as always – ending the day 9-4-22, and Tughral Zam (re-daboo) also bowled really well and would have got more with a harder track – his time will come.

All of a sudden we found ourselves in a proper cricket match – all results possible right through to the last over, with Godalming needing five runs and the Wick one wicket. I wouldn’t say luck was on Godalming’s side – because it wasn’t. We dropped 4 catches and missed 5 clear run out chances where direct hits would have won us the game in the final throws of the match. Godalming got home off the final ball to win by one run – well played.  

I have much love and respect for Godalming, and I know many of their players and characters well, but there is no way we should have failed to bowl them out for less than 175, even if they are a bit of a bogey side for us. Nevertheless there were many positives to take for the season ahead. The Wick’s attitude was spot on throughout, Oliver and Ahmad impressed with the bat, and Ali and Tughral Za with the ball.

Finally, being scorer means I get to see every ball and able to analyse the statistical quirks of the game. For example, in the Wick innings there were two short runs (both to Ahmed – there is a lesson there). There were also three 7-ball over’s in Godalming’s reply (and we got a wicket off one of them). Knowing these facts make me happy.

Wallop Ball

This thing in Bangladesh is actually quite enjoyable. But lets be clear - a game of cricket that lasts 20 overs per side is not a game of cricket. Its fun, sure, but its not ‘cricket’. It should be called Wallop Ball. Basically you need to be a big bloke who can slug it over the boundary, or a wee fella who is capable of bowling little dibbles. Ive exaggerated slightly, but Im essentially right. ‘Rotating the strike’ is only good batting if your partner is more likely to hit it higher and further than you are. Otherwise you have scored either 5 or 3 runs less than you could have done.

But what Wallop Ball has done is speed up the innovation of the game: Switch Hit (formally called taking the p1ss), slower ball bouncer (formally a slower ball gone wrong), slog sweep (slog), yorker outside off stump (misguided yorker), low full toss (crap ball), Suresh Raina as a bowler (batsman taking the p1ss), etc. But what may be the next things we see? Here’s a few thoughts:

• Mystery Quickie – A quick bowler who bowls doosras or leggies. Someone like Afridi comes quite to close it. Malinga is a bit of a mystery quickie because his action so weird and he bowls so fast, it’s a mystery as to where, and when, the ball is going to land. But what if there was someone who could bowl upwards of 80mph and the stock ball is an off-break.
• Backstop - I spent a season maybe 17 years ago playing exclusively as a back stop for Andy Moore who was keeping wicket to Ali Gohar, a Wick Overseas opening bowler who played regularly with Wasim Akram. He was stupid quick and you can understand why I was positioned where I was. But in Wallop Ball someone directly behind the keeper may become an important fielding position as Dilshan scoops become more the norm, and the frequency of fine edges through or even over the keeper increases. Or…what if the keeper stood on the boundary? If there is no value in taking a wicket, but all you need to do is stop the ball, then there may be occasions when the keeper will be on the ropes.
• Standing at the crease – Normally you stand on the crease. You can charge the bowler (Matty Hayden in his pomp), step back in the crease to give you more time (Flintoff did this quite a lot). You can also back away (MattyD in the nets) or step to the off side and play it on the leg side (Immo in the nets). What about standing behind the stumps, or even alongside them? If you know the ball isn’t going to hit the stumps, then why not give yourself even more time? Don’t ask me how – just take the blue pill and open your mind.
• Two 10 over innings per side. But you only have one chance to bat – so if you’re out in innings one you don’t get a go second time around. I’ve noticed quite a few games recently when teams simply aren’t losing enough wickets, meaning that after 15 overs both teams are doing equally well. You could be 150-1, or 150-5 after 15 and in effect you are in the same position because the team 5 down still have loads of betting to come.
• Fielding rules. One bowler, 10 fielders - half allowed on the boundary, half have to be in close – for all 20 overs. End of. I have to be honest I don’t even know what the rules currently are for Powerplays as they change all the time.

I also wonder where amateur cricket will be in 5 years time. Will kids still have the patience to bat for 2 hours? And bowlers have the desire to bowl more than 3 overs on the trot? Harder, faster, quicker. That’s not what cricket was founded on, but it has become that. But it is fun to watch and has created more buzz than an ODI series v Sri Lanka in May will do.

Return of Za Mack

Anyone who has played at the Wick for any length of time will know what's its like to be embarrassed by Zammak ripper. Despite bowling slower than Keith, you somehow get beaten for pace, the bounce comes from nowhere, it bites in the pitch like a snake in the grass, and out of the corner of your eye you see a wee fella with the smuggest grin on his face. You weren't even close and you were laughing at the ball before it passed the stumps.

Zumba was part of the Wick Invincibles of 2006. And a vital part too. A quick scan of Play Cricket will tell you that he took 34@13, going for only 3.2 an over that year. His next great year came in 2008 when he took 29@18. In fact even in his poorer seasons he performed better than most of us would care dream about....and all this bowling leg spin. Bloody good leg spin too. As Nomi said a few weeks back, great cricket teams are made up of great individual talents - and in Tuggles we have one more to add to our list. Welcome back Tuggzy.

Speaking of individual talents, did anyone see that spell by Dale Steyn on Sunday? True cricket fans should appreciate the sight of a genuine fast bowler flying in at pace and controlling ball like a yoyo. Fair play to Mitchell Johnson, he has bowled some great balls in the past 18 months, but Mr Steyn has been at the top of the world game for 5 years and seems as hungry as ever for wickets - ideally Australian ones. Epic stuff.

Back to Zambezi - his challenge now is whether he can be as good as his brother, who has matured into one of the most feared hitters of the circuit. One Tughral is scary enough, but two gives me the giggles.

There were other people a nets on Sunday too - 17 others in fact (a low turn out by 2014 standards), each with a point to prove. MattyD's batting aside, the standard was as high as ever, so if if anyone who hasn't rocked up yet do get involved. Tiffin Boys School, Sundays, 11-1.

KP back with England*

The MCC today announced that the rules of cricket are to change as of yesterday. Cricket will no longer be a team sport. It will be played still by 22 players, but each will be competing for themselves. Players will wear their own kit and each will get five overs to bat. Bowlers will be decided by lottery, fielding positions by phone vote and non-strikers by fines committee from the previous week.

The move is believed to be is response to KP's sacking from England. A spokesman for the ECB tomorrow said 'We're delighted to welcome KP back to the England setup. He's been our best individual player for the past decade, long may this continue.'

In a re-vamped County Championship 250 players will all play against each other every day for 6 months starting next week at Worcester. The one day stuff will be take on a Royal Rumble feel with players entering the field every over with batsmen and bowlers rotating until everyone is out.

T20 will not change.

*this is not true.

First indoor net review - Marrrvelous

Gooood morning everyone and welcome to the review of the Hampton Wick Royal first netsh shession for 2014, and what a marrrvelous shession it was.

Tiffin Schoool was the venue and **** me what a dingy place that can be. But not on Shunday as the Wick boys turned up in their droves for the first crack at practice and shed some light on what has been a pretty p*ss poor summer for the pommies. What better way to burn off the frustration of an Ashes bashing than to bash a few balls of your own. Marrrvelous.

Noman was on fine form as usual, hitting marrrrvelous straight drives past anyone who deared bowl in his half of the pitch. Shaycey also looked like his old-self, shtanding tall and shnicking off. Mr Collier also showed his face…although we’d rather he’d hidden it, shporting as it did a beard Mr Gatting would have been proud of. Mr Laight turned up late and then didn’t contribute for an hour, before bowling QUICKERBALLS slower than everyone else’s SLOWERBALLS. Marrrrvelous.

Quote of the day came from Mr Highh when discussing the value of Lidl over competing Shupermarket eshtablishments. ‘You can get a lobster for £4.99’. He looked composed at the crease though and will provide a headache for the shelectors later in the Summer. Iain Tong, the taller of the twooo Tongs, again displayed a dress sense like no other. Chedward were there in full gear, both having worked at the Wick the night before, as always full of shtories.

A few newww faces tooooooo. Shum tasty looking ones as well – all showing abilities with bat and ball. Old timer Davieshhh getting a few on the toes and looking a little worshe for wear afterwardsh. Zohaak was there toooo….hitting the ball as hard as anyone. Mr Shmith, reliable as ever found some good length, and the Prawn dibbled his way to a firsht run out of the year. Gayan showed us all his famous gate (ball going through it), and Mr Shimcox wasn’t afraid of getting involved, but only in net number twoooo.

Next week we will have more of the shame, do stay tuuuuned of get involved yourself. Remember, its Tiffin Boys’ Schoool, 11-1pm. If they numbersh stay like this, and the quality this high, the Wick will be in for another great sheason. Marrrrvelous.

Nets

Its that time again in early Feb,

Find your kit, dust off the webs.

Locate your box you thought you'd lost

Sniff the pads – that smell you’ve missed the most.

Test the gloves that fit so snug

Hardened by the winter fug.

Whose sock is this? It reeks of piss.

This towel OH GOD why did I miss

This item when I cleared the bag,

Last year I could have sworn I had.

Its Tiffin School, the indoor bit,

Around the back lets have a hit

And test our eyes and reflexes clear

Imagine caressing the ball dear

Through the covers for two.

Hold the shot,

Let the skippers see what you’ve got

What it takes to make the grade

And do a job. You’re not afraid

Of Nomi bearing down on you at 80 percent

But quick enough to make you think.

Off stump. IT’S THERE!

It’s through the gate. Bowled. Despair.

Worse still its on film, and laughter from the rest

Hidden away at the back of the net.

But no matter. Im here. Im having a go.

I’ll find it again and then I’ll show

My skills, my talent, my commitment to the team

After all its only nets, so-ones really seen.

Some Great Wick Innings

If January is good for one thing, its reading books. And you don’t even have to buy them yourself. It could be crime fiction (violent Scandinavian crime investigated by edgy loner policeman, they’re intimately linked with it somehow, drink and fags, some light meaningless sex, more crime, a chase of some sort, the odd text, ends with suicide), sports biographies (stay away from anything hardback), photo compilations (wow – look how blue that water is!) or a quirky something else which someone thought that’ll do. For me, this included a brilliant run down of, statistically, the 100 greatest Test centuries of all time. Pure indulgence.

I won’t spoil the fun, but the list was put together using a suitably geeky matrix of factors, including total runs, speed, influence on match chances (not result), quality of bowling attack, pitch conditions and % team total. There were a few other factors but I forget – not important. What was important however was the book’s increasingly eulogistic enthusiasm for each innings – reading it you felt you were climbing a mountain of cricket history to reach the peak of leather on willow perfection. Of equal excitement was the combination of innings/stories/games/names from years gone by, sitting alongside contemporary innings that I can remember seeing on TV or reading about online whilst dodging work. Read it – you’ll feel ready for the season once you’re done. Masterly Batting: 100 Greatest Test Centuries, by Patrick Ferriday and Dave Wilson.

But it got me thinking – what makes a great Wick innings? There are less centuries scored so we shouldn’t restrict it to the big innings, but there must be a hidden subconscious criteria that defines what is Great and what isn’t. You could make a book out of this, but for now, let’s include the following:

• An individual over achieving. Not just doing well, but breaking a personal barrier such that they enter a new imaginary part of their cricketing career where their ambitions are at a new level and expectations (of themselves and of them by others) are a step change over and above what they were before.

• Something to do with the zone. Everyone has their zone, and when its found there is a buzz on the sidelines because you know something special is about to happen. The zone could last for only a few balls, but its about the moment, and if this coincides with a match situation, a story, or a personal achievement it makes for greatness.

• Mental images. Great Wick innings are generally accompanied in my head with visuals implanted on my brain, or quotes from fielders or supporters that add to the story. It doesn’t need to be pretty, it doesn’t even need to be particularly special or clever, just something to asscoiate the innings with the moment.

• Generally these innings are part of special games – usually close, well earned, or important victories.

Ok – so here are three that immediately spring to mind, in no particular order. And also there are many more one could talk about – and in fact I probably will in the coming year – but these three are a good start:

1. Finbar Murray c.60 v Oxted & Limpsfield. 2012

Against a team who would eventually get promoted (justifiably so), Finbar came of age for the 1xi in a dramatic way. Having started the season as a keeper and #11 (in a team of 11 batsmen), he showed early on that he was willing to fight for his role. Anyone who was at Stoke D’Ab that day will testify to this. Slowly Finbar moved up the order and against Oxted he was in fine form as an opener.

Chasing around 200 to win, we started brightly enough with no alarms until Fin popped his shoulder. Having informed the skipper as to his predicament, the inevitable response of ‘Can you still bat?’ led to 30 minutes of the most ferocious hitting you could see. Having only one arm working properly prevented working the ball, but playing straight was still possible. It started to rain 6s over long-on – all top hand power. The innings of c.60 was the foundation of a special gloomy victory, whose story has its own match report.

2. Chares Edmonds 25 v Unknown a Sunday a few years back

Charles Edmonds’ Bajan displays are well documented – see here – but for me it all began a few years previously when on a bright Sunday afternoon at the age of maybe 15 he scored which at the time was surely his highest ever score (c.25), but definitely his longest ever innings (30 overs?). It came within a century partnership with of over 100 with myself (ahem), but I found far more joy in watching a young player make his first meaningful contribution to a senior game of cricket in a winning cause.

3. Tom Crowther X v Sinjuns, 2013

Sinjuns’ relegation last season was not unexpected, but to look in detail at results they can justifiably point to at least being competitive in most, and very competitive in many. Clearly there was something in their DNA which meant they struggled to get over the line – but until that point was reached games were often quite close.

In alien conditions (dead track, old ball, in at #3), Tom showed admirable constraint and patience to battle his natural instincts in what proved to be a not-quite-match-winning innings, topped off by a last over victory hit by Maingot over the bowlers head. There is actually very little I can remember about Crowther’s knock, other than to say I remember him going for a walk and getting stumped just shy of 50. It was tedium personified – but full of character and led to a vital victory in what was a potential banana skin.

Imagine writing a book on great Wick innings’ (hint hint). 

Fixtures Announced for 2014 Season

The first fixtures of the 2014 season have been announced on playcricket.com.

The 1xi will begin their Division 4 campaign away at Old Emmanuel, the 2xi will open up at The Wick against Cranleigh, also in Division 4. The 3xi, newly demoted and with points to prove, will travel to Sanderstead in Division 2 and the 4xi will open up the Wick's first ever Premier Division fixture at home to Sinjun Grammarians. Welcome to Kingsfield, your home of Premier Division cricket.

In other news, play cricket has been re-skinned and the Wick page currently looks like a pile of poo. Head of Comms Matt Davies would probably appreciate a hand sorting it out if anyone has basic web design skills...

Wick 151*

The Collapse

Wickman has tried to write this post before. May even have. There have been plenty of prompts down the years from England... and from Wick sides. What causes a collapse? Why, when you know you are in the middle of one, are you suddenly powerless to do anything about it? Is it top bowling? Is it collective feebleness of mind? Does the fielding side exert such pressure that you disintegrate? Wickman searches for answers…

So what’s a collapse? We are speaking here not of three quick wickets in the middle of an innings. We are talking of a side that gets completely and utterly humiliated – from either the top of the innings losing four quick wickets and not recovering, or going from seemingly impregnable strength and losing six for 40… a collapse must have an element of humiliation in it for it to count.

It also needs to be quick. A side failing to score at more than 2 an over for 30 overs but preserving wickets is not collapsing. It’s playing hard cricket. No. Speed of fall of wickets is highly relevant. It’s also got to happen after a period of stability. When the oppo have batted like Gods and your bowlers have pronounced the track suitable for landing 747s on and then the cream of our batting is removed hastily, each bat returning bemused and searching for answers, that’s a collapse all right. If your openers have got to 50 with few alarms and those on the side lines are rolling up the shirt sleeves for a bit of tanning, lighting a leisurely gasper and then all of a sudden 7 wickets fall in six overs, that’s a collapse.

At club level the collapse is something that is easily explainable. Club cricketers can go for weeks at a time with few useful nets, a couple of poor innings in between, work, drinking, women… and then all of sudden you are out in the middle with a decent bowler, a bit of pressure… it’s hard to dig in and find the necessary reserves when you need them. The batsman is faced with the certain knowledge that last month’s cover drive is today’s nick off to slip, last week’s safe nurdle to fine leg a leading edge to cover.

Club cricket has its defined statuses. In most xis we know our colleagues. If the chief run-getter of the side is dismissed cheaply, or by pace or by the wickedly turning ball it can send a negative vibe around the dressing room quicker than a noxious curry-caused evacuation in the one cracked loo. Throw in the quick wickets of the mercurial number four and the muscular number five who only comes off once in six innings and all of a sudden the lower middle are gnawing their bat handles, reviewing their last ten innings looking for comfort and no one is talking to anyone else.

No one is coached in this at club level. There’s no sage to offer advice about simplifying technique, or visualising the oppo bowler broken in the bar afterwards. Batsmen have two modes. Block for your life or smash your way out of it when something different is called for.

Out in the middle of course it is bedlam. The same oppo that half an hour ago were anxiously eyeing the scoreboard at 50-0 and contemplating a larruping are now jumping around like fat little nursery children just before lunch on pizza and chips day.

The sheer, unadulterated relief of knowing they aren’t going to get caned and the bowlers they suspected were weak of heart, infirm of limb and had the brain power of potted shrimp now bestride the game like giants sends them into delirium and lends them special powers. The slips become as erudite as Stephen Fry. Cover turns into Billy Connolly. Mid off appears like a ravening wolf in the fold. Even fine leg, AJ like, is sledging. A bat can middle it for four and for all the world the fielding side will give the impression he played and missed.

But it’s back on the sidelines that the damage is done. Speed of padding up causes consternation. Boxes will not fit. Pisses cannot be had. No time for a Gauloise and a flirt with someone’s sister. Someone has gone for fags and comes back - and seeing the scoreboard runs around the boundary knowing he is next in adding to the feeling that the batting side is incompetent, village. The batsmen out are solitary. They mutter darkly of a ball that kept low, a rotten umpire, a shooter, uncommon lift, a bicyclist behind the arm. The batsmen next in are trying to focus while quietly condemning those that have gone before.

Friendly supporters arrive and look up hopefully at the box before shaking their heads mournfully. Some offer scorn. Others look at the condemned men and shake their heads theatrically. Others still bemoan the lack of entertainment to come. Vitriol is stored up in those facing the long walk to the middle.

And then out there? What is it that goes through the mind? Innocuous bowling seems seldom to hit the middle of the bat. Anything that does come out of the middle screams straight to a fielder. The fielders themselves are moved to feats of derring do. An obvious run is spurned. The pressure to get away from the bowling mounts. The mouth is dry. The bat handle feels fat. Tension wracks the arms and wrists.

What’s in the mind is everything. It’s impossible to focus. The most innocuous sledge cuts deep. Fielders exhorting the bowler cannot be blocked out. Every calculation is racing through the mind. The score. The number of wickets. The fact that you are on three and the overwhelming knowledge that you need 50 minimum to dig the game out. That your colleagues are even now criticising you for being too timid, too attacking, too fat, too mentally frail… The bowler turns and runs in and for the life of you, you can’t focus on the ball, just the man. You are already selecting shots. Back over his head? Block it? Push for a single… no back over his head! The feet… just… won’t… move… and you connect with fresh air. The howls of anguish. The heads in hands on the sidelines. The catcalls… and so it starts again. 

The Ball that Changed a Test

So that was a bit of a shocker then, the first Test.

Not only was Wickman confident that England would rediscover form with the bat, Wickman also believed that our bowlers would have too much for a fragile Australian batting line up.

There’s absolutely no doubt in Wickman’s mind that Ryan Harris is an excellent Test bowler in the mould of Terry Alderman and in more recent times Stuart Clarke. Nathan Lyon is a decent offie. But Johnson, despite showing some one day form was hardly the threat he once was... he bowls to the left, he bowls to the right, that Mithchell Johnson, he bowls a load of shite.

The first day and most of the second morning were to plan. The Aussies were dismissed without much fight except from the redoubtable Brad Haddin. Johnson looked agricultural but more than justified his selection as a bowling all rounder. But we blew away the tail and then Carbs and Cheffy settled down to bat through to lunch.

On Twitter there was a carnival atmosphere. Scribes, bloggers, fans and Wickman’s milieu were all pronouncing that the pitch was a road. All the indications pointed towards parity for England by the end of the day with perhaps five wickets down. Johnson came on and hurled the ball down but was about as likely to take a wicket as Wickman’s dobbers. To say that Brad Haddin did well to get a glove on some of it was an understatement.

As with so many things in cricket it was something innocuous that kicked things off. Harris bowled one across a static Cook who slightly hung his bat out. Australia were in business when only a moment earlier they were beginning to look desperate.

A with hindsight scrambled Trotty came to the wicket. None of those watching could have seen any indication that the man was in turmoil… although the fact he was almost slogging in a warm-up game might have indicated… no. We didn’t know. Johnson then bowled the ball that set Trott up, set Johnson up and set the game up.

Who knows if he meant it? He was spraying it like a club bowler trying too hard up until that point but right on cue he lasered one in at Trotty’s heart. It was close to unplayable. Brutish. Lifting. A heavy ball amongst heavy balls. Trotty couldn’t get out of the way and at the same time wasn’t in line. It looked ugly. It was destabilising. It was pure Bodyline. There. Wickman's said it. Invoked the worst of all Ashes words.

From that moment on there was only one strategy. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Eventually Trotty succumbed and feathered a ball that was a foot outside the leg stump to a jubilant Haddin. Johnson had taken a wicket with a superb ball. That that ball had come perhaps two or three overs earlier than the rank half tracker that actually claimed the wicket did not matter.

The rest was misery.

Ashes Eve - Thank God for Aussie Journos!

The night before an Ashes series is one of the most exciting dates in the sporting calendar. Especially when it's an Australian series. There's something super cool about knowing that for six weeks you'll be one of perhaps millions of people wishing the day away so that you can park yourself in front of the television at close to midnight while the rest of the house is quiet.

Many a long winter has been punctuated by a glowing rectangle of green in the corner of the room beating out heat while the outside temperature drops to minus numbers. There's the balance to be struck between drinking the right amount of booze to rightly celebrate this quadrennial pleasure. Too little is not right. Too much and you could well be waking up parched in the middle of the lunch break. And then, for the waged, the knowledge that a hangover at work on a Thursday morning is one of the worst feelings in life - the knowledge that the day will be a trial - and Friday will be too...

What will the series hold? For many years - 20 in fact - it heralded a drubbing. We tuned in with hope only to see Australia bat all day two down or the Barmy Harmy fire the first ball into Flintoff's hands at second slip. Even in 2009 we were under the cosh on Day One and didn't recover until Day Four.

This time round it has arrived a mere 65 days after perhaps one of the least interesting Ashes series ever. Sounds harsh but there was very little to recommend the Summer series in England. Trent Bridge was a massacre made to look close by one of the most ridiculous debuts (Agar) in the history of the Ashes. Lords was as embarrassing for Aussies as... you name your most embarrassing England performance in those 20 years. The series was pretty much over after two games and no one was surprised when the calamitous Aussie batting capitulated in Durham.

So thank goodness for the Aussie press in the run up to this first Test. Baiting KP, giving us the redemption of Johnson, talking up the Aussie bowlers, rubbishing Cook's captaincy, reminding us of the pissing incident at Lords, trashing our change bowlers... Sowing discord and rancour everywhere... Talking up the home side... Reminding us that the arena is called the "Gabbatoir"... It's all good. Wickman is up for it. Wickman wants to watch again. Wickman is prepared to put up with the withering glares as Mrs W goes to bed alone and has no sympathy in the morning... It's the Ashes. the Aussies really care. And if they care, that makes it a contest again after the surrender of the Summer when the same journalists were handing us the urn gift wrapped before the team had left India, never mind started smacking around our schoolboys in bars.

Game on.

2-1 England by the way...