Cricket

Regular readers may have noticed – but not necessarily been disheartened by – the absence of much cricket-related commentary here. There are a couple of reasons for its absence. First, I’ve been reading a lot in preparation for what I hope may become a longer-term project. Secondly, so much of the news these days is sufficiently depressing as to make one think that the game – that is to say, the game one knows and loves – is scarcely worth the candle. And yet, despite this, there are occasional sparks of light. Consider the comments of Darren Ganga, for instance. The West Indian is no-one’s idea of a titan, but

Like Norm, I am entirely unsurprised by this: The Phrase “it’s not cricket” is reverberating again around state school classrooms. Good old-fashioned cricketing values have prompted an improvement in behaviour in schools, according to the evaluation of a project to promote the sport in schools to be published later this week. The “Chance to Shine” scheme, designed to promote cricket in state schools by sending in club coaches to teach the game, has had a spin off beyond PE lessons. According to researchers at Loughborough University, schools which have taken part in the scheme report improved behaviour in school generally as a result of participating in it. Admittedly even cricket

On to more important matters than the Democratic convention. Today marks the centenary the birth of Sir Donald Bradman, perhaps the greatest sportsman who ever lived and a man whose brilliance becomes more, not less, mysterious as the years pass and no fresh pretender emerges to challenge his claim to the crown. The numbers peak for themselves: Bradman’s test average of 99.94 runs per innings is a summit beyond reach. No-one before, or since, has come close to his record of scoring a century every 2.75 innings. His closest comeptitor – of those who have played a serious amount of top-class cricket – is George Headley and even the great

the London papers, Mike Atherton at the Times, Selvey at the Guardian, Angus Fraser at the Independent and Derek Pringle at the Telegraph. Atherton is new to the post but shows signs of becoming, as one might expect frankly, an excellent addition to the press box. There is nothing wrong, per se, with former test cricketers moving into the press box. After all, it has long been the case that former players have found fresh and comfortable berths in the press corps. Scyld Berry, the Sunday Telegraph’s man who edited Wisden this year was not a great cricketer himself, but I was disappointed that he thought it

There’s the theory – and history –  of cricket in Scotland. Then there’s the reality…  Scotland vs England, The Grange, Monday August 18th, 2008. Match abandoned.

So, after a nip and tuck South African affair, Norm and I finish the week by selecting our teams to represent a post-1945 England. As always, players need only have played for England after 1945 to be eligible for inclusion and the merits of their inclusion are to be judged on the totality of their career, not just the part of it that took place after Hitler’s War. As alaways, you can follow the action here or at Norm’s Place

Lovely story told by Simon Hoggart in his Guardian column at the weekend: The death of Simon Gray lets me reprise a favourite story. He was a close friend of Harold Pinter, a great cricket lover. Once Pinter wrote a poem about his hero Len Hutton. It read, in its entirety “I saw Hutton in his prime / Another time, another time.” He sent it to several of his friends. Soon afterwards Pinter and Gray were at the same dinner party and Pinter asked what he thought of the poem. “I don’t know, Harold,” said Gray. “I’m afraid I haven’t finished it yet.” [Hat-tip: Stephen Pollard]

Readers awaiting the announcement of my M XI of test cricketers should fret not. It will appear. And soon. In the meantime the estimable Norm has challenged me to a game of fantasy cricket. As he explains, the idea is that we shall each select a side, playground style and then see how the XIs may match up against one another in a subsequent, enjoyably imaginary, series. You can follow – as I imagine you’ll want to – the game here and at Norm’s place.

So, as expected, Kevin Pietersen will captain England against South Africa at the Oval. A dubious gamble in my view, given the potential for the captaincy to adversely impact impair (thanks mystery commenter!) his batting, just as it did Michael Vaughan. Then again the selectors ensured that they had very few options, thanks to their criteria. As Geoff Miller said today: “In choosing a new captain, we were keen to identify a player who could lead the team in all three forms of cricket and bring fresh enthusiasm and ideas to the role of captain.” In other words slap and tickle 20/20 cricket helped determine the choice of a captain

The test match at Edgbaston is bubbling up nicely. If they can snaffle Graham Smith’s wicket England will be favoured to mop up the South African tail and claim a victory that looked unlikely after their careless batting displays. Hurrahs for Paul Collingwood and, with the ball, Freddie Flintoff. UPDATE: OK, so that didn’t work out did it? But I’d have also been happy to have been at Headingly today where, in his 11th innings after he struck his 99th first-class century, Mark Ramprakash has made it to the top of the mountain. The 100 Century Club has a new member. What’s more, Ramps’ may be the last admitted to

Regular readers may not be surprised that I’m sceptical of the benefits of the new referral system being trialled in the Sri Lanka-India series. This morning’s events at Edgbaston demonstrate why. Kevin Pietersen was given out caught in the gully off Jacques Kallis. Replays and the “Snickometer” suggested that he’d hit his pad, not the ball, before it spooned up to Prince. So far so good: refer this to the Third Umpire and he’ll say that Pietersen is not out caught. But he might also mention that he looks as though he is out LBW. But the umpire in the middle can’t really say to Pietersen, “OK, so you didn’t

Yes, I know I have posted this before, But, dang it, I’m sailing around Corfu. And anyway, Left Arm Chinaman’s blu-tak recreation of England’s horror-show in New Zealand last winter deserves a fresh airing:

What is it about Ian Bell? By which I mean, why does the poor fellow arouse such animosity? No other player in the current England team sees his failures magnified and successes downplayed to such an extent. Even when he bats well, his critics use this as evidence that, damn it, he should be batting like this all the time. Perhaps today’s splendid 199 against South Africa will quieten the critics. But if so, I suspect it will do so only temporarily. A friend suggests that Bell is the victim of the “Henman effect”. That is to say, he’s a nice, middle-class public schoolboy (Rugby in Bell’s case) whose demeanour