Friday, December 23, 2011

To Test Cricket, with love

There's a thin volume on my bookcase, among the other books about cricket, and it has been there for about 20 years. The book is penned by Ian Brayshaw and is about the Chappell brothers, but the opening pages of the book contain just about the best description of the first morning of a Test match one could hope to read.


It describes the walk down King William St over the River Torrens to the Adelaide Oval. But is also describes the feeling of anticipation and excitement that surrounds the hours before the commencement of that longest of sporting contests.

There is the weather to consider. Early humidity and cloud cover can affect the shiny, red sphere of leather differently than a blazing Australian sun accompanied by a spotless blue sky. There are the teams, and anyone who thinks that this is not much of a consideration should look back to Australia's most recent Test match, when Daniel Vettori pulled up hurt during pre-game warm-ups and was replaced by a pace bowler, which despite Vettori's auspicious record, probably benefited the New Zealanders.

And finally, there is the pitch. So much that happens over 30 hours of cricket depends on the horticultural conditions of 22 yards of rolled turf. Is there moisture? How long will the moisture keep the pitch “lively”? Is there a green tinge? Is there rolled-in grass cuttings? Will the ball start to turn and spin on the latter days as the pitch wears and dries out? These are the sort of things that make this gardening philistine think wistfully about dropping everything to become a country cricket ground curator.

And then, when the game begins, among the excitement, the seemingly infinite possibilities (look at the India/West Indies Test from last month for an example of those possibilities), there is the space. The space to think, the space to breathe, the space to share, the space to talk. This space does not exist in the other forms of the game. If T20 cricket is Phil Spector's Wall of Sound, then Test cricket is the music produced by George Martin; sparse in places, action filled in others, always interesting, never the same twice.

According to their coach, the newborn Melbourne Renegades of the T20 Big Bash lost Thursday's game in 21 balls. No Test match can be decided in 21 balls. This is a decidedly good thing.

At a Test match, one can discuss many things while never dismissing what is happening on the field. Batsmen can get through good spells of bowling with patience, resilience and nous. Bowlers can think a batsman out, taking time to craft a plan in their head and implement it. Not all cricketers were born as naturally instinctive and wise for the game as Shane Warne.

One of my favourite hours of Test cricket was Ishant Sharma's spell to Ricky Ponting in 2008. Ponting fought bravely against a viciously moving ball for 50 minutes, while Sharma probed the Australian captain's defences. Eventually Sharma got his man, and the wicket was well earned.

This enthralling episode would simply not happen in the shorter forms of the game. The pace of the game, the pressing need to set a target rather than survive, would have meant that Ponting would have probably surrendered his wicket quickly and foolishly. His shot would not have been worthy of the delivery.

Many lament the state the longer form of the game is in. Only in England and Australia is Test cricket consistently well attended, and even in Australia it only demands good crowds from the three oldest venues, Melbourne, Sydney and Adelaide.

I make no such lament. So much can happen in five days, so many changes in the complexion of a match, whether they be small or significant, so much can be speculated and chewed over with a quiet ale or roast chicken sandwich, that the gift of Test cricket keeps giving right through the duration of a match.

This is what makes Test cricket the most unique sporting contest in the world. To compare it to any other single sporting contest in the world would be inaccurate: it plays out more like a NBA playoff series or an entire tennis tournament.

The fact that the best attended Test match every year occurs in my home town only deepens my love for the game. I'm pretty sure I know what will happen Christmas morning. But I don't know what will happen Boxing Day morning, or over the next five days. And I love it.

Thursday, December 22, 2011

An unenviable (20)11

Ed Cowan will make his debut for the Australian cricket team on Boxing Day at the MCG. He'll join such illustrious names as Brett Lee, Steve Waugh and Craig McDermott, among others, who have made their debut for Australia in our most iconic annual Test Match.

Dan Christian may also make his Test debut, and if that happens, Australia would have had 11 debutants in Test Cricket in 2011.

Recently, I compared the cricketers Australia has debuted since Shane Warne, Justin Langer and Glenn McGrath retired to the ones that debuted immediately after the retirements of Rod Marsh, Dennis Lillee and Greg Chappell.

The period of rebuilding Australia is currently undertaking has also regularly been compared to the rebuilding that Australian cricket undertook in the mid 1980s under the stewardship of Allan Border and Bob Simpson.

However, never was a single year in the 1980s as tumultuous as 2011 where debutants are concerned. The largest number of debutants for a single year of the 1980s was 7 in 1985, and that included Geoff Marsh, Merv Hughes, Bruce Reid and Steve Waugh.

No, one has to go back to the bad old days for establishment cricket; the birth of World Series Cricket and the Packer split to recall a year where so many fresh faces toiled under the baggy green. For the last time at least 10 players debuted for the Australian Test Team in a single year was 1977.

From David Hookes famous debut in the Centenary Test, through six debuts in the doomed Ashes Tour of England in 1977, and finished with another eight debuts, replacing the Packer defectors, in the exciting series against the Indians back in Australia, 15 debutants were blooded in 1977.

Now, 1977 was a disaster for Establishment Australian cricket by any measure. Thirty of the nations best cricketers turned their backs on first class cricket, leaving such household names as Clark, Hibbert, Ogilvie and Gannon to officially represent their country.

When another nine players debuted for the official Test team in 1978, the calibre was much more powerful. That year's debutants included Graeme Wood, Bruce Yardley, Jim Higgs, Rodney Hogg, and of course, Allan Border.

Fast forward to 2011, and of the nine players who have already debuted for Australia this year, two may have already played their last Test match for Australia. Michael Beer has been replaced by the able Nathan Lyon, while Trent Copeland is now not even in the best eight pace bowlers in the country, according to the selectors (behind current squad members Siddle, Pattinson, Starc and Hilfenhaus, and injured bowlers Harris, Cummins, Cutting and Johnson). Don't expect either of them back in the side any time soon.

While the wraps on Usman Khawaja have been huge, his inability to show concentration for long periods of time have seen him dropped from the Test side for the second time in his debut year. I can't think of another specialist batsman who's had that rather unenviable honour bestowed upon him.

While gold appears to have been struck with Lyon, Pattinson and Cummins, and Dave Warner's underrated innings in Hobart shows a clear ability to take instructions and work on deficiencies, one would have hoped for a better strike rate with debutants than is currently being shown.

The upside is that in 1985, the selectors went through Rob Kerr before getting to Geoff Marsh, Simon O'Donnell before getting to Steve Waugh, Dave Gilbert before getting to Merv Hughes and Bruce Reid.

In more recent times, selectors also picked Wayne Phillips (the second one) before getting to Justin Langer and Michael Slater, they picked Michael Kasprowicz before picking Jason Gillespie, they picked Simon Muller before picking Brett Lee, and they picked Clint McKay before picking Ryan Harris. So here's hoping the Christmas present our Test team has been waiting for is a Cowan, and perhaps a Christian.

Monday, December 12, 2011

Don't do me no favours

While some members of his team, namely the bowlers, may have thought differently, I'm sure Michael Clarke wasn't happy with the colour of the pitch when he first ventured into the middle at Bellerive Oval last week.

Australia's bowling is looking dangerous and youthful at the moment, and as such, could be relied upon to deliver a robust performance without any extra assistance from the pitch.

Australia's batting is another matter. The top three are inexperienced, the number four is playing for his career every time he bats, or so it seems, and the wicketkeeper is also trying to delay the inevitable. Only the captain really looks confident and in form at the moment.

So the curator at Bellerive was really doing the home team no favours with his preparation of the pitch.

So what's new?

If there has been a theme common to Australian Test Cricket and foreign to other countries over the last 20 years, other than regular dominance, it has been producing pitches so fair as to almost render a disadvantage to the home team. This is pretty much in direct comparison to the pitches prepared everywhere else in the world, where producing a pitch that will advantage the home team's strengths is common practice.

Last year on Boxing Day, a juicy pitch met both teams. Despite a lack of heavy rain in Melbourne before the match (it has been cool and humid in the weeks preceeding the match), a green tinge rendered the toss of vital importance. England won the toss, inserted the Australians, and the Aussies failed to make triple figures. After lunch the pitch flattened out, and the game was effectively over.

To say the Aussies needed a flat deck would be like saying the Wallabies need a better performance from the forward pack.

Once upon a time, visitors cringed at the thought of playing on the bounciest pitch in the world in Perth. While Australian cricketers were used to the bounce of the WACA strip, visiting teams, especially those from the sub-continent, struggled to adapt as they were used to the low bounce of the pitches from home.

But the WACA hasn't played like that in 20 years. A replacement of the grass wicket area after the debacle in 1993 against the West Indies has meant that the WACA pitch has become docile and has maintained a lesser, consistent bounce for all five days. While England continue to struggle there, losing six straight test matches, India and South Africa have both won in Perth in previous years.

Contrast this to what happens in other areas of the world. Pitches in India are either roads, to suit their batsmen, or dustbowls, to suit their spin attack. In England, pitches can vary, either to suit their pace attack led by James Anderson and Stuart Broad, or their world class off-spinner, Graeme Swan. In the final test of 2009, England spun to victory behind Swan's bowling effort on a vicious turner.

No pitch is ever prepared to play to Australia's advantages. With Shane Warne closing in on 700 Test wickets on Boxing Day 2006, the MCG curator produced a slow, damp pitch. Only Warne's brilliance gave him five wickets, including his 700th.

Brisbane is generally considered one of the best cricket wickets in the world, and the Aussies haven't lost there since 1988. But England made 1/510 there last year.

The truth is a little bit of assistance wouldn't go astray, and the Aussie players who need the assistance now are the batsmen. The drop in wicket at the MCG will hold no promises, but has been playing very consistently through four days at Shield level so far this season. It'll play fair, because that's what we Aussies do. We produce pitches that give everyone a fair go. It may be time to give our own players a little leg up. Everyone else does it.