Showing posts with label Cricket. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cricket. Show all posts

Friday, December 21, 2007

Why the aversion to technology? Umpires at the wrong footing...

Every time a batsman or a bowler gets a poor decision, it is marked down to cricket being a game of glorious uncertainties. But these uncertainties are no longer left to the confines of memory. Umpires' mistakes are now magnified thanks to the invasive nature of technology on television. And with just about every international (and a large number of domestic) match being televised; an umpire's competence is immediately available for comment and scrutiny.

Mind you, it is tough on the umpires to do their job. They have to count the balls in an over, keep an eye on the bowler's front foot and in the split second it takes from then for the ball to reach the bat and a subsequent appeal to be made, take into account various aspects while dimming out the ambient noise and make the right decision. And then there are the moral policing they have to get into at times, ensure there are only 11 players on the field and keep a track of the light conditions! Mistakes are bound to happen. The thing to note here is that only aspect of their on-field duties that can be adversely affected due to stress is the decision-making after an appeal. Because it's now or never...

So why are these gentlemen subjected to ridicule? There have recently been two incidents when players have been called back or given out after the on-field screen (mandatory at international venues) showed the umpire to be wrong. Why, then, not use this in the first place? It isn't too hard now, thanks to the TV companies adding small nuggets of technology over the years) to implement a decision-making process while the bowler is running in. Relieve the umpire of the no-ball call, for instance. The third umpire is in a better position with square-on cameras to make that call. He can always tell the on-field umpire through the walkie-talkie and a couple of seconds isn't going to change the outcome of what is happening on the field. At least the call will be accurate.

Making the third umpire's involvement more direct can also be done in case of other decisions. He could keep an eye on nicks, LBW appeals and give out vital clues to the on-field umpire. The third umpire can always have tram lines on his monitor and ascertain to the on-field umpire whether the ball pitched in line or not. This is based on fact and not speculation or judgement.
This is pure information. Similarly, he could also tell the umpire whether it struck the batsman in line of the stumps or not. Whether it was going over the top or not is a judgement call that the on-field umpire can make since he has the best view. And he is also in a position to judge whether the ball would have hit the wickets taking into account the spin, seam or swing movement involved. But when he makes his decision, he at least has the facts in place. The uncertainties are then left to the outcome of the match making them truly glorious.

So while players can't even express disappointment over a poor decision, umpires can get away with murder. A player reacting to a decision is accused of "dissent" and "bringing the game into disrepute". Baloney! Umpires making mistakes adds to the glorious uncertainties. Ridiculous. If anything, a player showing dissent can be argued to show emotion and bring some character into the game. No? Then give the umpires the necessary information to make accurate decisions.

The ICC, in its customary manner has delayed the implementation of these and other such steps far too long. Playing conditions is another aspect that isn't uniform. And I don't mean the wickets or the size of the ground. These are great if they change every time since they then pose a new challenge and add character to the match. I mean things like whether the every Test should be played under lights to ensure completion of the day's quota of overs. Sure some grounds in the world aren't equipped with floodlights. So either don't have international matches here or forget about implementing this rule. Keep it applicable only where lights are available. Yes, I see how that contradicts my own point of uniformity, but at least this will make it more uniform than it is right now.

Why is all this important? Cricket is now a professional game. Money, careers, and a whole lot more ride on every match. Why shouldn't the players and sponsors get their fair chance? And what about the fan? If every Test is fairly judged and played, the fans will only enjoy watching it. There won't be reasons to crib like "poor umpiring cost us the game". Has anyone thought how strange that statement sounds especially since the umpires in Tests are supposed to be non-partisan? As an entity, they are supposed to watch the game and "enforce rules and arbitrate on matters arising from the play" not influence the outcome of it. In the same vein, a ground and a stadium is supposed to facilitate the play and not affect its completion (this is different from result, mind you).

So while we hate at Sachin Tendulkar getting an unlucky inside edge LBW or an opposition batsman getting a poor decision, we have to remember that the game at such a juncture is perhaps not being played in the best spirit. There are very few ‘walkers' in the modern game and rightly so. Highly paid professionals are there to enforce the rules and make decisions. If they make a mistake, it is squarely their fault. And anyways, according to the history and spirit of the game, a batsman is entitled to stand his ground and not walk until given out.

This could perhaps be one reason why cricket (ODI and Test) is stagnating. While there are advancements in equipment, run-rates, strategies, there is a regressive attitude about the laws, law enforcement and something as critical as umpiring. While the game tries to move ahead on the one hand, the other is constantly pulling it back. The end result is often a mundane, nearly formulaic offering.

Monday, September 17, 2007

T20 is here to stay and thrive

Ask Me!! I say....These are momentous times for cricket. There is the unmistakable sensation that the nature and course of the game are about to be changed forever. No doubt big deals went down in the 1770s when Hambledon were strutting their stuff on Broadhalfpenny Down. The shift was pretty dramatic when Test cricket began a century later, and then a century after that when One-Day Internationals, with floodlights and fancy flannels, was born.
But the advent and significance of Twenty20 compares with and probably surpasses any of that. In the past few days, it has been possible to believe that the shortest, brightest form of the game will shortly conquer the world. Something has started here and nothing will be the same again. The inaugural World Twenty20 in South Africa has been captivating. It was heralded by a breathtaking hundred from Chris Gayle, and nothing could have been better designed to persuade people to sit up and take notice than 117 from 57 balls.
The first week has been fast and furious, the joy enhanced by the realisation that players are learning as they go. England have stumbled into the second stage and play the first of three Super Eight matches tonight against South Africa. It has became obvious that the advance of Twenty20, invented in England four years ago, is unstoppable. The formation of a Champions League has been announced initially, the finalists from the Twenty20 competitions in England, Australia, South Africa and India.
It is being financed and marketed by India, will probably take place in Dubai and has a prize pot of £ 2.5m, of which £ 1m will go to the winners. That alone will have a huge bearing. In England, for instance, this year's championship winners will receive £ 100,000 for success over 64 days of cricket. If a similar number of hours can net you 10 times that, it does not take long to work out where you might put your resources. The number of group games in the England and Wales Cricket Board's (ECB) competition has been increased to 10, double that of the first year.
There is a danger of killing the goose, and the showbiz adage of leaving 'em wanting more seems to have been forgotten. A pity, because Twenty20 is nothing if not showbiz. All this has been accompanied by verbal appendices that Test cricket will be preserved. Maybe, but there are reasons to wonder. Twenty20 is magnificent entertainment. Fans feel part of it. Television, especially in India, was wary awhile, because you can get fewer adverts in 40 overs, and therefore less income than in 100, the span of the previously orthodox one-dayers.
But there are signs that telly is getting round that by wrapping adverts around the action or rolling them across the screen. Nobody should doubt that the administrators have recognised Twenty20's value, and while they know it is beholden on them to protect Test sanctity, that will become increasingly difficult. At present the intention is to restrict the number of Twenty20 matches played by national sides each year to seven outside International Cricket Council (ICC) events such as this. If sponsors and TV wish to be associated with Twenty20, the wind might be heading only in one direction.

Wednesday, July 4, 2007

Tendulkar passes another milestone

15000 & Counting
When Sachin Tendulkar reached his fifty in the second ODI against South Africa, he went past another milestone in a career chequered with record-breaking moments. Tendulkar became the first batsman to accumulate 15,000 runs in ODIs - he was the first to 10,000 runs as well - and that didn't come as a surprise considering the productivity of his long career.

In the 189 ODI innings he has played when India has won, Tendulkar has scored 9061 runs at an average of 56.98, with a strike-rate of 89.72, all figures higher than his overall average. He averages 47.96 in 36 finals (of tournaments involving three teams or more), though the fact that he has scored only four hundreds, and that only 13 of those matches have resulted in wins, might come as a disappointment. Incidentally, he averages 89.10 at a strike-rate of nearly 100 when the team has won in a final.

He instantly became the face of the day-night game, and in fact Tendulkar has scored the highest number of runs while batting second in a day-night game and is third on the list of all-time highest averages while chasing under lights.
Tendulkar has scored the most runs by far (12019) while batting in the top three. However, a few batsmen have averaged better than him in the top-order, though none in the top five apart from Sir Viv Richards come close to his batting strike-rate.
Though he's been dismissed in the 90s in two consecutive matches, Tendulkar can take heart from his performance against South Africa in the ongoing series in Ireland. South Africa is the only team against whom he has failed to maintain an average score of 35 per innings.

Interestingly, the South African bowlers have managed to keep him quiet over the years, as reflected in his low strike-rate of 71.42 against them. The reason for his success at Belfast could be the absence of Shaun Pollock. Pollock has dismissed Tendulkar nine times in ODIs, along with Sri Lanka's Chaminda Vaas. The other successful bowlers include Glenn McGrath and Heath Streak, who have dismissed him seven times each.

Tendulkar also performs better at neutral venues than at home in India. His record in away games though is unimpressive.

Tendulkar currently averages over 50 in the 13 matches he has played in 2007. He has finished five years so far with an average of over 50 in ODIs. However, after a successful 2003 World Cup, he suffered a slump. He averaged a measly 34.97 in 37 innings in 2004 and 2005. Also, his strike-rate dropped gradually from 87.36 in 2003 to 77.05 in 2006.

Since the 2003 World Cup, Tendulkar has played 72 innings, in which he has scored 2824 runs at an average of 43.44 at a strike-rate of 81.85. He opened the batting in only 58 of these innings and though his record at No. 4 was equally impressive, he failed while batting one-down. In four innings at No.3, he averaged 8.75 and had a woeful strike-rate of 54.68. Clearly, Tendulkar prefers not to take first strike while opening the innings.

Although of late, he's looked to play with caution, he can be destructive and equally dismissive of opposition bowlers at will, as seen in the latest innings against South Africa, where he pulled the ball with an air of nonchalance.

That list includes the magical 49-ball 82 against New Zealand, Tendulkar's first as an opener. Since then, it's been many more runs on the board. Tendulkar has scored almost 26,000 runs in international cricket, and looks unlikely to be overtaken soon unless his nearest rival Brian Lara comes out of retirement as stated and makes runs at a far greater pace than his contemporary.

Monday, June 4, 2007

Graham Ford- The new Entry for Indian Cricket Coach

Lets Check the man himself who did wonders for the SouthAfricans

Unassuming and determinedly low key, Graham Ford ascended gradually to the position of South African coach, by-passing several bigger and more familiar names along the way. A competent all-round sportsman, Ford is a former provincial tennis champion, has provincial colours for football and is a qualified rugby union referee to go with his cricketing credentials.
As a player, Ford had an eight-year first-class career in the Natal B team during the 1980s, but as a coach he moved steadily through the ranks, from the University of the Natal team, through the Natal Colts side to become senior Natal coach in 1992. He was the first to admit that he was fortunate with Natal in having Malcolm Marshall and Clive Rice on hand to help him guide a crop of outstanding young players which included Shaun Pollock, Jonty Rhodes, Lance Klusener, Neil Johnson, Dale Benkenstein and Errol Stewart.
At the same time, his personalised approach proved not only popular, but effective as Natal astounded South Africa in the 1996-97 season by winning the domestic first-class and one-day competitions. He had already had a go at coaching the South African A team and in 1998 took the A side on tour to Sri Lanka. At the beginning of 1999, Ford was appointed assistant to Bob Woolmer in New Zealand, a role he carried through to the 1999 World Cup, before taking over the senior position when Woolmer's contract ran out after the World Cup. In his time, they won nine of the 11 series under his guidance..
The Hansiegate Affair, however, has massively disrupted the South African side, and Ford was fired in 2001. Many believed he unfairly paid the price for internal power games within South African cricket. He moved to Kent as director of cricket in 2004, and while there oversaw an influx of South African players to the county. In 2006 he returned home to take charge of the Dolphins.
Lets see whether he can make up to Indian aspirations or not.........

Sunday, June 3, 2007

A Monster Gentleman


Lets take a look into the world of Freedie- Andrew Flintoff

In the summer of 2005, Andrew Flintoff established himself as England's greatest allround cricketer since the days of Ian Botham, producing a succession of wholehearted and inspirational performances to reap 402 runs and 24 wickets in five Tests, and carry his team to glory in arguably the greatest Ashes series of all time. It was a performance that reverberated around the globe, and propelled Flintoff to the sort of superstar status that his many admirers had always believed was within his grasp, but had often despaired of him ever achieving.
Big, northern and mightily proud of it, he hits the ball harder than any English cricketer since Botham, and uses his colossal 6'4" frame to generate speeds in excess of 90mph which, allied to his metronomic accuracy and burgeoning mastery of reverse-swing, make him one of the most intimidating bowlers in the game. For a time Freddie was destructive and self-destructive in equal measure - his precocious skills and size led to a Test debut at the age of 20, but two years later he was struggling with his weight and his motivation, barely able to bowl because of persistent back problems, and barely worth a place in the Lancashire seconds.
In 2001, he was given an ultimatum by his management team, and requested to be sent to Rod Marsh's ECB Academy. It gave him the motivation he needed, and when England SOSed for him during that winter's India tour, he was a reformed character. Despite being found out by India's spinners, he picked up a maiden Test century against New Zealand and was an integral factor in a successful home summer in 2002.
Unfortunately, it was all too exciting for the England management. By the time they flew out to Australia in October, Flintoff had been bowled into the ground, and could barely walk after a hernia operation. But he returned to action in time for the World Cup, where he was the most economical bowler in the tournament, and come the 2003 season, he was ready to take centre stage.
He came of age in the Test series against South Africa, thumping a therapeutic 95 in England's remarkable comeback at The Oval to go with a defiant century at Lord's, and produced a starring role in England's series win in the Caribbean, where he learned at last to slip the handbrake and become a genuine attacking option with the ball. After helping England to a 2-1 series win in South Africa, he flew home early for an operation on his troublesome left ankle, forwent his honeymoon to speed his recuperation, then returned fitter and better than ever.
He single-handedly inspired England to a two-run victory over Australia at Edgbaston, in one of the greatest Tests of all time, followed up with a maiden Ashes hundred at Trent Bridge, sealed the series with a marathon five-wicket haul at The Oval, and embarked on a 17-hour bender culminating in an open-top bus parade through the streets of London.
By now, he was a global superstar to bracket alongside Sachin Tendulkar or Shane Warne, but arguably his finest hour of all was the manner in which he stepped into the breach as England's captain, on an injury-plagued tour of India the following spring. Leading from the front magnificently, he grabbed 11 wickets and scored five fifties in six innings, as England defied the odds to draw the series 1-1.
In July 2006 he underwent surgery on his left ankle, missing the Test and one-day series against Pakistan but, recovering ahead of schedule, was named England's captain for the Ashes in 2006-07. But even his supreme ability wasn't enough as his batting faded under pressure and the troublesome ankle required further injections through the series. His demeanour after the 5-0 thumping was in stark contrast to the beer-fuelled celebrations 16 months earlier, although he atoned in part by leading England to a surprise victory in the subsequent one-day CB Series, after being handed back the captaincy by the injured Michael Vaughan.
Being back in the ranks for the World Cup did nothing to improve his form with the bat, but Flintoff's time in the Caribbean will be remembered for one incident - capsizing a pedalo in the sea in St Lucia following England's defeat to New Zealand. As a result he was dropped for the next game against Canada and stripped of the vice-captaincy. He continued to pound away with the ball, but his efforts with the bat became embarrassing.
By the end of the World Cup he appeared broken and exhausted and missed the start of England's international summer.

Strange Innovations- Cricket World

Today we search through the kitbag of history to find a collection of eccentricities and innovations...........
The Aluminium Bat
Few innovations have been quite so cynical - and quite so short lived. Dennis Lillee and a friend called Graham Monoghan decided there was money to be made in selling bats made of aluminium. They were cheaper than their traditional wooden cousins and more likely to irritate the opposition too. When Lillee walked out to resume his innings against England at Perth in 1979-80, he was armed with metal. He had already used the ComBat against West Indies, when he made a duck. Now Mike Brearley protested. A stand-off ensued, which ended with Lillee hurling the bat towards the pavilion and the lawmakers stipulating that it was wood only from now on. ComBat sales plummeted.
The Skull Cap
There was tittering at the back when the 35-year-old Mike Brearley opted to face the Aussies in 1977 sporting a strange contraption that sat under his cap and protected his temples with two fang-like pieces of plastic. Trouble was, it kept slipping. "Oi, Brearley, why don't you fix it on with a six-inch nail," shouted a Trent Bridge wag. The only nails applied that summer, however, were to Australia's coffin: England won 3-0.

The Colored Hat
Hard to believe but in June 1973 Barry Richards walked out to open Hampshire's innings with Gordon Greenidge during a John Player League match against Sussex at Portsmouth's United Services Recreation Ground holding a bright orange bat. Essentially a marketing ploy, it prompted Graham Roope to threaten to use a blue version at the forthcoming Lord's Test against New Zealand. MCC stepped in swiftly.

The Crash Helmet
Dennis Amiss went further than Brearley by lining up for World Series Cricket in 1977-78 with an Evel Knievel-style crash helmet, produced - less glamorously - by a company in Birmingham and made of fibreglass with a polycarbonate visor. It could, said Amiss, "take a double-barrel shotgun from 10 paces", which sounded a touch paranoid. Calls for a quick single were occasionally obscured by the helmet's bulk - run-outs were not uncommon - but Amiss set a trend, even if the helmet was soon replaced by more streamlined models.
The Scoop Bat
First brought on to the market in 1974, the Gray-Nicolls 'Scoop' - lighter than traditional bats but with a larger sweet spot and thicker edges - was a big hit with international batsmen until the early 1980s. The scoop faded from view as the trend moved towards railway-sleeper bulk and brute force. But it enjoyed a mid-'90s revival in the hands of Brian Lara, who used it to score first-class cricket's only quintuple century. While the single scoop beloved of David Gower is consigned to history, many of Gray-Nicolls' contemporary bat models feature two or four scoops on the back.

The Unbuttoned Shirt
The good old Viyella shirt - part wool, part cotton - allowed the sartorial rebel to roll up his sleeves and undo the front to give the chest an airing. Keith Miller was never shy; nor was Richie Benaud. But a trickle became a trend under Ian Chappell's 1970 Australians, who were matched all the way for navel-baring by Wayne Daniel. The buttons disappeared at the start of the 1980s, leaving cricketers to concentrate on their hair-dos instead.

The Mittens
Essentially a pair of small, white boxing gloves, the mittens were first modelled by that innovator par excellence Tony Greig, who wore them during the 1975 World Cup. The thinking was that the greater surface area helped absorb any impact and thus provided more protection to the fingers, and they quickly caught on, with Clive Lloyd wearing them during West Indies' tour of England in 1976. Nowadays no self-respecting batsman would be seen dead in them.

The Shoulderless Bat
Presumably the theory was that, if you possessed shoulders like Lance Cairns, you hardly needed them on your bat. Cairns's shoulderless willow made by Newbery - known as an Excalibur but more often compared to a caveman's club - was responsible for two of the most frightening pieces of hitting in the last 30 years. At the Hutt Recreation Ground near Wellington in 1979-80 Cairns crashed 110 from No. 9 (Evan Gray: 4-0-50-1) to turn Otago's score of 48 for 8 into 173 all out. The next-best score was 14. Three years later, in a one-day international at Melbourne, he launched into a 21-ball half-century, including six sixes in 10 balls.

The Inverted Flowerpot
Floppy sunhats were de rigueur in the 1970s but Jack Russell kept the fashion alive until his retirement in 2004. The Russell version, described by his at times exasperated captain Mike Atherton as a "flowerpot of a thing", bespoke pure eccentricity. Only his wife, Aileen, was allowed to patch it up (he had been wearing the same one since his first-class debut in 1981), and he irritated the England management by refusing to wear an official coloured cap during a one-day series in South Africa. Compromise was reached when Russell agreed to sew on the England emblem. It was an emotional moment.

The Hand-me-Down pads
International cricketers tend to prefer using their own gear but a 14-year-old Sachin Tendulkar was hardly going to say no when Sunil Gavaskar bequeathed him a pair of his ultra-light pads. "It was the greatest source of encouragement for me," he said nearly 20 years later after passing Gavaskar's top world record of 34 Test centuries. Passed from one Little Master to another, the pads became part of the legend of Tendulkar.

The MCC Colours
The last time the England touring team wore the bacon-and-egg colours of the Marylebone Cricket Club was on the 1996-97 tour of New Zealand, although they had stopped referring to themselves as MCC 20 years earlier. The club's colour had been sky blue for about a century after its foundation in 1787 but changed for reasons that remain unconfirmed. One theory is that MCC adopted the red and yellow of Nicholson's gin after the company's owner, William Nicholson, secured the club's position at Lord's with a loan. Gin and MCC? Surely not...

Tuesday, May 8, 2007

ICC Cricket World Cup 2007- A Summary of Fool's Day Out

World Cup 2007
A Cup-full of lessons

So how will the first World Cup staged in the West Indies be remembered?
Will it be how Simon Barnes put it in the Times of London, as "the worst sporting event in history", or as Owen Arthur called it: "a tremendous success"? The detached sports writer and the involved prime minister clearly saw it from two entirely different perspectives, which is bound to be the case for most observers.

Certainly, the cherished dream of Chris Dehring, the chief organiser, that it would be the best World Cup ever proved to be an illusion. It was always an unrealistic aim; and even though there were extenuating circumstances, it turned into a nightmare. The vision of Dehring, as all West Indians, was for Brian Lara, showered in champagne and against the backdrop of dazzling fireworks, to be holding the trophy aloft at the remade Kensington Oval as his became the first team to win the cup on home turf.

That script further called for a gripping tournament, filled with brilliant performances and close contests, played in front of large, enthusiastic, cosmopolitan crowds stirred by the spirit of the Caribbean. It was a far-fetched scenario but the eventual reality was even more improbable.
By the time the cup was presented, for the third successive time to Australia, there was general relief that the tournament was over. It was too long, contained too many lop-sided matches and was blighted with bad luck from the shocking murder of Bob Woolmer that threatened its very continuation within the first week to the shambles that was the showpiece final.

It seemed somehow appropriate that it should end as it did, with the disappointment of the first of the nine finals to be shortened by the weather compounded by the ignorance of four highly-paid, supposedly experienced officials that erroneously extended it into the darkness of overtime. By then, the West Indies, ill-prepared for such an important assignment, had been dishonourably discharged and Lara was a week into retirement. There was no doubt who the irritated public held responsible for the mess.

At the presentation ceremony after the final Malcolm Speed, International Cricket Council (ICC) chief executive, Ken Gordon, West Indies Cricket Board (WICB) president, and Dehring, the chief executive of World Cup, were each roundly booed. Whether such derision was justified is a moot point.

But instead of the tournament being the best ever, it was condemned in the international media as, variously, a shambles, a disaster, and a debacle, to go along with Barnes' hyperbolic assessment. Yet, at the same time and for justifiable reasons, Arthur was in buoyant mood. Avid cricket fan that he is, the cricket in itself was not his main concern. He was fully satisfied with how his nation coped with what he saw as "definitely the most complex thing that Barbadian society, not the Government, has had to do".

When the tournament was awarded to the Caribbean, and the Super Eights round and the final to Barbados, Arthur said it was "an expression of confidence of who we are and what we can do as a people". It was significant, he felt, that the governments of such small states "should pursue the belief that this region should host something as important as a World Cup".

The people, not least those who staffed the local organising committees (LOCs) in the three years preparing for the event and the thousands of helpful volunteers who were a feature at every venue, proved conclusively that they can cope with a global event of this magnitude.

All the pre-tournament doubts over internal travel and accommodation, based on practical experience, proved largely unfounded. Not every bag arrived in every island at the same time as its owner but there were none of the predicted foul-ups, and the use of cruise liners between Barbados, Grenada and St Lucia in the closing stages could be the template for a new method of regional travel. While there were valid complaints from visitors about the cricket and matters related to the cricket, the overall Caribbean experience made an unmistakable impression.

The 6000 or so Australians who descended on St Lucia and Barbados for the last two matches, and the few hundred Irish who celebrated as only they can their team's unlikely passage through the first round in Jamaica, are unlikely ever to forget it. Judging by comments in the press from a cross-section of other nationalities, this is generally true.

But more telling considerations will follow for Arthur and other prime ministers. They have to convince their constituents that their massive financial investment was worth it and that benefits will follow through the much-hyped legacy.

It is imperative that proposals for maximising the use of the fantastic new and renovated stadia be put quickly in place. Otherwise, they will become a drag on the several economies and on the electoral status of governing parties. For those concerned solely with the cricket side of the cup, "tremendous success" was hardly a fitting description, although unforeseen circumstances conspired against it.

Only two things remained constant throughout - the awesome invincibility of Australia and the adversity that stalked the event at every turn. Sandwiched between Woolmer's murder and the fiasco of the final, two of the most attractive teams, India and Pakistan, and consequently their fans, were eliminated in the first round; the keen interest of West Indians was diminished by their team's four losses in five Super Eights encounters, and match after match meandered towards its predictable conclusion.

Of the 51 matches over the six weeks (not counting the unofficial warm-ups), six were won by more than 200 runs, including one semi-final, seven by 100 or more and seven by eight wickets or more. Only four went into the last over.

Bangladesh and Ireland were the fairy-tale qualifiers over India and Pakistan. Their success was spirited, deserved and a tremendous boon to the game in their countries; but it diminished the quality of the cup. In any sporting tournament, upsets are likely and not every contest will be tense and exciting. But such shocks and mismatches were heavy body blows.

If such developments on the field were beyond the control of the ICC, World Cup and the LOCs, matters off the field were not. Anxious to demonstrate the so-called globalisation of the sport and against repeated, if unofficial, advice, the ICC increased the number of teams to 16 and kept the length over six weeks. The tedium typified in South Africa four years earlier was now amplified by the proliferation of dud matches.

There surely must be a review for the next World Cup, in 2011, to ensure that there is more urgency to the contests in the later stages and that the Super Eights are not compromised by matches that end before lunch (or dinner) and feature top teams that omit their leading players with a semi-final in mind.

From the start, the tight restrictions imposed at and around the stadiums, also a complaint in South Africa, and the exorbitant ticket prices rankled fans who saw them as the high-handedness of planners concerned only with gratifying sponsors, lacking a feel for the game and for the uniqueness of the Caribbean, and with little consideration for the pockets of the average West Indian.

These, more than anything else, led to the heckling of Speed, Gordon and Dehring, even though several of the more draconian measures were relaxed towards the end. There were hundreds of lessons to be learned by the ICC, the WICB and regional governments from World Cup 2007. They would be foolish not to heed them!!!

The Legend Coach- Bob Woolmer


Gud Evening! Today i would like you all to have an insight in the life of one of the legendry coaches of all time. The Man named: " Robert Andrew Woolmer" or better known as
BOB WOOLMER

Bob Woolmer was the most highly regarded cricket coach in the world. As a consequence he was employed by two leading Test nations, South Africa and Pakistan, and approached by two more, England and West Indies. In addition he was a good enough player to have been signed by Kerry Packer for World Series Cricket. Underpinning his abilities was a schoolboyish enthusiasm for the game matched in recent times, perhaps, by only Colin Cowdrey and Shane Warne.

Few individuals within the game have had to make so many contentious decisions. Joining Packer and hence forfeiting the chance of captaining Kent and England; signing up for the first breakaway tour of South Africa in the sure knowledge that a Test career would never be resumed; turning down the opportunity to coach England in 1999 when the ECB's first choice ahead of Duncan Fletcher. For such a mild-mannered man he was mired in undue controversy - and that was the case even before he met Hansie Cronje. Yet Woolmer never expressed any regret about the course of his life.

It is sad, not least for his family, that such a talented cricketing man will be remembered, at least by those with a passing knowledge of the game, for the circumstances of his death and his association with Cronje, a man who let him down badly. For Woolmer to emerge from his partnership with Cronje with his reputation untainted was testimony to his honest nature. The essential point was that Woolmer would not have done anything to harm the game he loved. He liked his money - which Test cricketer of the mid-1970s did not, given how poor the remuneration was pre-Packer? - but he liked cricket even more.

If he had had any knowledge of Cronje's involvement in match-fixing during his time as coach of South Africa and if there had been any such approach to his Pakistan players, then he would surely have reported it to the board and, doubtless, to the police too. As a natural conciliator, Woolmer would always reason rather than react. He did not have a temper. At The Oval last year, he asked every Pakistan player to swear on oath that he had not tampered with the ball. "They all did and, as they are a religious bunch, I tended to believe them," he said shortly afterwards. "I always feel the game should continue but to accuse Pakistan of cheating brings tensions to the fore. This kind of decision is potentially inflammatory. I was torn between my principles and a desire to help the side." He was on the point of resigning as coach. In retrospect it was unfortunate he did not do so.

One question that will engage the thoughts of English cricket followers is: would England have fared better had he become coach? The reason Woolmer did not take the job in 1999 was because he was immersed in trying to win the World Cup with South Africa. As to whether he would have taken it now, his love of the game, his desire to win a series against Australia - he never achieved this as a coach, although he did as a player - and the fact that he was not financially secure would all have inclined him to do so. The most probable scenario, though, assuming the ECB would have wanted a younger man as Fletcher's eventual successor, was that he would have founded his own cricket academy at a site he had earmarked near the Kruger Park in South Africa. This will now be established through a trust set up in his memory.

In his playing days and in his relationships with administrators and players when a coach Woolmer made friends easily, for all his obvious youthful ambition to play for England. Indeed, he was known in the Kent dressing room, which he joined in 1968, a time when the strongest side in the county's history was being forged, as 'Bobby England.' He was confident of his own ability, but it was submerged at first in a strong batting side. Woolmer's talents first became apparent in the one-day game, as a medium-paced swing bowler who would exert tight control in the middle of an innings with Derek Underwood at the other end. From 1975, when he made his Test debut for England, batting was his stronger suit.

Strange as it may seem now, there was something of the shop steward about him in his youth. He always liked the comfort of decent hotels, was keen on good food and wine and did not care for the ordinary accommodation that was the lot of the county cricketer in the 1970s. When Woolmer signed for Packer in 1977, he was at his peak as a batsman. His three Test centuries were scored against good Australian sides and David Gower, for one, felt he fulfilled his talent. A total of 19 Tests with an average of 33.09, might suggest otherwise. For whatever reason, when Woolmer returned to international cricket in 1980, he was not the same performer and his Test career was over by 1981. He hooked and cover drove as well as anybody in his era, yet was a little loose technically, especially early in an innings, his prominent left arm leading into the drive being executed well in front of his body.

If, arguably, he was just a little short of the highest level as a batsman, as a bowler Woolmer was under-used by England. In the modern era in one-day cricket he would have played in 200 or more internationals. As it was, his career was curtailed by a back injury in 1984, when he was still a fine county cricketer, surveying the field from slip as Arthur Fagg would have done - or Cowdrey. He was to return to Kent as coach in 1987 but insufficient time had passed since he had left the dressing room. Warwickshire were the beneficiaries and, once he had won three trophies in 1994 and shown he could handle Brian Lara, there was bound to be interest from a major Test nation.

As a batsman Woolmer will be recalled for his Cowdreyesque elegance; as a coach, for his innovations, his use of a laptop and the earpiece with which he once communicated with Cronje before it was banned; and as a person, for his gentleness, enthusiasm and generosity with his time and money. He gave too much of himself to too many people, some of whose motives he might not have recognised. Above all he was trusting of the human race and that quality, alas, might have led to his tragic death.

Adam Gilchrist and the art of innovation

Squashing glory
Watching it was like being transported on a magic carpet to other worlds but, once the ride was over, you were left to ponder an innings that was every bit as unusual as it was resplendent. And years from now, we're still likely to be talking about the day a humble little squash ball played its part in one of the great batting efforts of our times, the day Adam Gilchrist scored 149 off 104 balls in the World Cup final.
Dozens of my dear friends have written in to me since, questioning the legality of the innings. "If using a squash ball isn't OK as per the laws of the game, is his innings legal and does it count?" asked one. "And if it doesn't count, can Australia claim to have won a hopelessly one-sided and farcical victory?"
Another concentrated on the minutiae of the laws. "The law specifically prohibits a player from using equipment other than that permitted," he wrote. "And nowhere in cricket's 42 laws is there a mention of a squash ball as a permitted item. If you are not allowed to bowl with any tape or plaster on your fingers, I don't think you should be allowed to have a squash ball in your gloves when batting."
And that's precisely where we enter the greyest of cricket's many grey areas. As long ago as the 19th century, a South African gent by the name of Baberton Halliwell used raw steaks inside his wicketkeeping gloves, a method subsequently emulated by the likes of Alan Knott and Rod Marsh. Batsmen with poppadam fingers, as Nasser Hussain came to be known, have also been known to have extra padding and protection inside their gloves.
According to an article in The Daily Express, it's not only gloves that have been messed with in the quest to get ahead. It mentions how John Wright, the former New Zealand opener who coached India, used to glue his top glove to the handle, in order to maintain the alignment of elbow and shoulder. Even more fascinating is Tim Robinson's account of how Clive Rice, the South Africa and Nottinghamshire allrounder, would wrap strips of lead around the top of his handle to balance what was a very heavy bat.
Gilchrist had his own trick, not up his sleeve but inside his glove. It wasn't the first time that the squash ball had come into play either. At the WACA last November, he flayed the Queensland attack for 131 from 95 balls, but the experiment suggested by Bob Meuleman, a former squash player himself, remained just that until he got to the World Cup final.
It had been a frustrating tournament for him, as he admitted later. Half-centuries against the Netherlands and Bangladesh boosted his run tally to 304 runs, but there was no doubt that it was the other half of the opening combo, Matthew Hayden, that had intimidated the life out of opposition teams.
With his relatively light bat and atypical grip, Gilchrist had started to fall to the strokes that had once been his forte. The sliced drive to point was of particular concern and, on the eve of the game, he decided to give the squash ball another go.
What it did when slipped inside the left glove was make him markedly less bottom-handed in his approach. As Meuleman said in a newspaper interview later, "I've worked with him for 10 years and he an unusual grip in which his hand goes too far around the back of the bat. It [the squash ball] is a great big lump in your glove but it means that you can only use your bottom hand in a V."
According to Meuleman, who played a few Sheffield Shield games himself in the 1960s, the effect was dramatic. "He had a few hits before he went off to the World Cup; he didn't have the squash ball in and he hit them like he couldn't even play fourth grade. He put it in and he then hit the ball so good."
At the Kensington Oval, Mahela Jayawardene was well aware of the wonderful twirl of the bat that sent the ball scurrying to the point or cover fence that came to epitomise the Gilchrist way. Having suffered previously at Gilchrist's hands, Jayawardene blockaded the off side, with an isosceles-triangle formation of backward point, a short-square point and an extra-cover. The aim was to starve him of his main scoring outlet, thus inducing a rash stroke or two.
What the squash ball did was change his scoring areas completely. His last one-day century, against Sri Lanka on Valentine's Day in 2006, had highlighted his off-side strengths - 60 of his 122 runs came there - but he started off the World Cup final with a clip behind square leg and a stunning shot over wide long-on.
By the time he departed, with victory almost assured, only five of his runs had come in that favoured arc from backward point to cover. There were lofted shots aplenty, but most were struck with precision straight down the ground. A staggering 65 runs came from strokes in the V, including six fours and five sixes.
The ICC may have cracked down on graphite strips and the like, but when steaks - rare preferred to medium or well done - and cricket have been hand-in-glove, it's unlikely that the squash ball can be proscribed. Having tried it, as many readers no doubt have, we can safely say that batting with it is no picnic. A bunny with squash-ball-in-glove doesn't a Gilchrist make.