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bonkers
McCullum raises bar
By Will 2 years ago, mid-April, 27 Comments »
“McCullum’s going spastic,” one of my colleagues said over messenger while I watched one, lone, bearded spectator trudge around the Arctic Bowl in Southampton in the mizzle. I didn’t see much of Brendon McCullum’s explosive 158, but the facts and stats behind such innings illuminate it perfectly adequately.
Let’s start with the facts. He hit 10 fours and 13 sixes, one of them an outrageous paddle over his left shoulder off a disbelieving Zaheer Khan, and ended up scoring more runs than anyone has ever done in the brief history Twenty20 cricket. The previous record-holder – Cameron White, who hit 141 not out for Somerset against Worcestershire two years ago but contributed just six to the Bangalore’s pitiful total – spent most of the innings watching helplessly as one ball after another disappeared into the night sky. The pre-match fireworks had nothing on this.
McCullum’s penchant for the spectacular is not new. Only last month he creamed 170 off 108 balls to help Otago make mincemeat of Auckland in the
final of New Zealand’s State Shield, but on that occasion hardly anyone bothered to turn up to watch. Now, he did the business in front of well over 40,000 fans, most of them barracking at the start for their local side but many giving McCullum the ovation he deserved as he took the Bangalore bowlers to pieces. Fair enough: it was a knock that transcended partiality.
What cricket is this? People have termed Twenty20 the sport’s fast-food, which correctly implies it’s cheap, nasty and fills you with guilt. But that doesn’t convey just how fleeting it really is. It’s amphetamined cricket. Ravers’ cricket. Cricket for a trance nation. Dumbed down. Speeded up. Some brilliant shots, some awful slogs, much shorter boundaries. Cheerleaders. Too much colour. Where is this all heading?
27 Comments »Strap in: here comes the circus
By Will 2 years ago, mid-April, 20 Comments »
We work alongside other journalists every day at our shiny ESPN towers, and I was chatting to a football scribe the other day about the IPL. He admitted to be “gagging” for the start, itching to witness what he considers to be a “mini World Cup”. It probably says rather a lot that he, who only has a passing interest in my sport, is more curious about the forthcoming IPL than I am.
Well, that’s not strictly accurate. I am definitely curious about it all – I just hate and loath the premise and the impact it will inevitably have. Cricket’s landscape has changed forever. But the prospect of watching Ricky Ponting and Ishant Sharma representing the same team – the Kolkata Knight Riders! - captained by Sourav Ganguly, is too ridiculous and balmy not to slap my thighs like a baboon and yelp “bring it on”. It’s a brilliant farce, succinctly described by The Sunday Telegraph’s Scyld Berry:
The owner of Kolkata Knight Riders is Shah Rukh Khan, as famous as any Indian film star. Their main sponsor is Nokia. Their coach is John Buchanan, simply the most successful coach ever in international cricket, as he was Australia’s last. Their opening batsman is Chris Gayle, the man reviving West Indian cricket, with a style of hair and cricket to rival Symonds; their wicketkeeper/batsman is Brendon McCullum, the nearest New Zealand come to a star cricketer; and Ponting is a useful batsman. Ganguly said: “I was personally present at the auction. Every franchise had an amount of $5 million to spend as a maximum, and there is a restriction of eight overseas players in each franchise, and you can play only four at a time. We have to have four Indian under-21 players, two under-19s, and four local players from our catchment area.”
My team will be the Kolkata Knight Riders – yes, because I can hear the twangy theme tune of the coolest TV programme ever made providing another absurd backdrop to the quacky-wacky madness of the whole charade. What odds KITT might appear to present the winners – and I use that term loosely – with a replica Pontiac Trans Am?
The tournament hasn’t even begun but already there are major concerns surrounding its coverage, though they have eased slightly today. The IPL has prevented websites from covering the tournament from the ground itself – they will not provide accrediation to journalists representing new media – and applied restrictions to the sale/rights of photos. Talk about shooting themselves in the foot. A boycott by at least one major media group surely beckons. Not the ideal start, but somehow appropriate.
20 Comments »Virender Sehwag goes a little bit bonkers
By Will 2 years ago, at the end of March, 29 Comments »
I suppose I should salvage what few Indian fans I have left by at least mentioning Sehwag’s blistering knock today. Truth is, I only caught brief glimpses of it – just as much fun can be had getting your head around the legalese of the ICL and county players – but it was the speed of his innings which most stood out. He only has two gears: quite fast and very fast. And his footwork – or lack of – was fascinating to watch. He barely moved them an inch, at least to those few scorching drives I witnessed, which tells us two things: he has a ridiculously good eye and fast hands, and the pitch is a screamer.
There was one particularly deft back-cut (you can never have enough late cuts, I say) which sped past the lone slip for four – a model of timing, placement and bravado. His feet didn’t move, he just wafted the bat and it flew away for four. When you’re on a roll…
Still, I was slightly alarmed by all the praise. “Sehwag is an all-time Indian great,” commentators gushed. Steady on. He’s unstoppable on his day, and if South Africa keep feeding him boundary balls he’ll give Brian Lara’s record a run for its money. But he’s no Lara.
Is he?
29 Comments »