Category Archives: Uncategorized

The Delight Of Esoteric Cricket Rules

Another cricket match, another controversy over an obscure (and seemingly impenetrable) cricket rule. I’m not going to go into the jurisprudence of handling the ball; instead, I want to pause and allow every cricket blogger (and reader) to acknowledge how much fun these rules controversies have allowed us to have.

I suppose our tendency to revel in arcane laws speaks both to the weakness and attraction of cricket: on the one hand, the complexity of the rules really does turn off entire groups of people; there’s a reason soccer is the most popular sport in the world (i.e., its simplicity). On the other hand, by setting down layers of regulations, cricket forces its fans to pass through rounds of loyalty tests — Do you really like this game? Well, can you explain to me how Law 37 and related addendums affect Law X and Y?  While it may encourage pedantry, complexity also rewards a basic democratic impulse — this is a game of rules and laws, accessible to any fan willing to apply basic logic, knowledge of precedent and the give-and-take of interpretation.

Perhaps the greatest satisfaction from all these rules disputes is knowing that we are the inheritors of a set of traditions and laws handed down to us by centuries of experiments, failures and great athletes. The rulebook of cricket, however indecipherable, is a badge of honor — no doubt of dubious (that is, imperialist) origins, but one I’m happy to wear and mould for the next generation.

The Polarization of Cricket

Pakistan’s whitewash of England — and India’s whitewash in England and Australia — suggest cricket is returning to a polarized world in which the white teams can’t do well in Asia, and the brown teams can’t do well in White-Land (Aus-Eng-S.A.). In the 2000s, we saw India amend this rule when it won series in England and drew series in Australia and South Africa, and we saw Australia complete its world domination when it won in India.

No more. What happened to England — and to India — showcased pitch determinism at its best; the English batsmen couldn’t deal with spin on dry (Asian) pitches, and the Indians couldn’t handle seam or swing on (English and Australian) pitches. It’s possible that these whitewashes will feed a vicious cycle, wherein home teams ask for skewed pitches (we’ve seen this already from Gambhir and Sehwag), resulting in more and more one-sided victories. On the other hand, it’s also possible that the ICC pitch inspection program may lead to more standardized pitches, or that India’s board will finally wake up to reality and prepare pitches that aren’t roads designed to give five days of cricket.

Why is this happening now? Well, with England, we know the answer — they were never really all that good at playing in South Asia. But more broadly, the impending retirement of the batting greats — Kallis, Ponting, etc. — will give way to mere mortals less cosmopolitan in their approach to batting. Once the titans who bestride the globe leave, we’re left with the warlords who jealously guard their turf.

Dropping V.V.S. Laxman Isn’t A Good Idea

I’m surprised to see the knives have started to come out for V.V.S. Laxman. Cricinfo collected advice from former players — always a source to be taken with caution — and a couple suggested bringing in Rohit Sharma in Laxman’s place. E.g., Sanjay Manjrekar:

“I would still drop VVS [Laxman] and get Rohit [Sharma] in for next Test. Makes long-term sense. Give Virat [Kohli] one more Test … just to be sure he does not belong here. VVS averages 20 in last 12 overseas innings. Even if he gets a good score in next Test, it will not serve India long. Also if Virat, before the tour, was India’s next big thing, should he not get more than two Tests on his first stint in Australia?”

The issue is that it’s silly to “make long-term sense” when you have a more pressing short-term goal — namely, avoiding a consecutive overseas whitewash. After this tour, India won’t play another overseas game for a year, giving youngsters ample time to fill in big shoes in less difficult terrain than the WACA. Besides, whatever success India has earned abroad has come from Sehwag, Tendulkar, Dravid and Laxman. Let’s give them two more Tests, please.*

One small point to end: I think a reasonable case can be made that the weakest link in the line-up is Sehwag, who too often gets out early to an impetuous shot, exposing the middle order to a newish ball. I know people — i.e., Ian Chappell — like him for the attacking option he offers India, but I’d rather have two staid openers who kill the new ball than someone who leaves the No. 3 at his every beck and call.

* Did anyone else catch the anger in Sourav Ganguly’s voice when he started to talk about Michael Hussey? Ganguly said it was strange and ridiculous that Hussey was under pressure, given the Ashes series he had less than a year earlier. “Just because of his age,” Ganguly said, letting off more than a whiff of bitterness about the circumstances that led to his own retirement.  I imagine Ganguly is secretly happy that his former position has yet to be permanently filled — but is there a lesson here about age and retirement? Is it better to let older players stay on if you don’t have a good replacement, or is it better to let them go and try and blood newbies on the spot? (Call this the Jay Leno-Conan O’Brien conundrum.)

The DRS Debate Is Getting Out Of Hand

I understand that different people have different opinions on DRS and the current series-by-series policy. I have long been an opponent of any additional use of technology in the game (I’m an old man in many other ways), but I want to note just how unjustly skewed the debate has become.

If an umpire makes a call that is confirmed to be “correct” by Hotspot or EagleEye, the commentators will merely note that it was a good decision, and how difficult it is to be an umpire today. If they’re being really charitable, they’ll show what the umpire saw in real time. That’s it.

If an umpire makes a “bad” call that is revealed to be as such by technology, however, all hell breaks loose. The wronged batsman will lay out his personal views in the post-match press conference, the commentators will have an extended discussion about what went wrong, and Twitter catches fire. Little is said about the number of correct decisions that are made, and how they outnumber the bad ones. Even less is said challenging whether or not technology has delivered an “objective” review (in the case of Cowan’s dismissal, for example, I’m still not sure what happened). In other words, the scales are not equally placed: a “bad” decision receives many times the attention that a good decision does.

The anti-DRS crowd (with whom my allegiance lies) will lose this battle if it keeps being played out this way. Some bloggers (A Cricketing View, for e.g.) have done admirable work questioning the assumptions that technologies like ball-tracking and what not use. At this point, I can only hope broadcasters will slap a label that reads “This recreation is loosely based on true events” whenever Hawkeye is displayed.

Shakib Al Hasan Needs To Move To Another Country

Shakib Al Hasan, Bangladesh’s former captain, has a problem — let’s call it ‘Dan Vettori Syndrome.’ He is, without a doubt, the best player in his squad. And he clearly knows it; he has made it a habit of routinely stepping up to the crease with bat and ball when his fellow players do not. Take a look at the stats: in Tests, he averages in the low 30s with the ball and the bat (and he has seven five-wicket hauls); in ODIs, he scores 35 on average, and takes wickets at 28. (And he’s only 24!)

But like Dan Vettori, Hasan’s efforts usually don’t earn results. That’s because their teams are largely mediocre. So the issue is this: what do you do when you have a singular talent in the midst of mediocrity? Someone like Chris Gayle reacted to this problem by shrugging his shoulders and dispensing his talent only when he saw fit. (This attitude — which included giving the middle finger to his board of cricket — only makes sense now that lucrative T20 contracts are available.) Others, like Brian Lara and Sachin Tendulkar, tried to hold up the entire team on their shoulders, either to stall the inevitable (Lara’s case), or to wait until better talent arrived (Tendulkar’s).

The problem for Hasan and Vettori is that they are all-rounders. Now this may be a completely unscientific prejudice on my part, but if you have a star player, wouldn’t you want him to be a star batsman (or bowler)? All-rounders are great; they inspire and rescue your team from trouble, but I don’t see them building squads or getting results. By the time Shakib comes to bat, for example, the most he can do is try to put on a respectable score; he can’t do the top order’s job of dominating the game. In other words, I’d rather have a 50-average batsman, or a strike bowler of Dale Steyn or Zaheer Khan quality, rather than a 30-and-30 all-rounder. [Feel free to tell me I'm an idiot in the comments.]

So what should Hasan or Vettori do? Vettori can’t wait until better talent to emerge, because New Zealand’s small pool may not deliver. Both can make more money through the IPL and elsewhere, but Hasan could imagine a scenario wherein Bangladesh become a threatening squad in another 10 years (and by that time, at 34, he’d be ideally placed to lead). Perhaps he could do what Tendulkar did — inspire the Rainas, Kohlis and Sharmas — and stick around long enough to see his team lift the World Cup trophy.

What The End of The Rahul Dravid Era Means

Here’s what I’m concerned about: Over the previous two decades or so, audiences have fractured. Some people have called this trend the ‘Daily We;’ the idea that people don’t have to go to the same sources for their entertainment or news and instead retreat to whatever suits their personal preferences best. This in turn means that the traditional gatekeepers — newspapers, broadcast news — find their come-one-come-all moderation no longer in demand.

What does this have to do with cricket? Even in the 1990s, the cricket stars were very real and clear. They played for the Indian national cricket team, which meant they had the flag to carry, and they weren’t explicitly commercialized (as the Indian consumer market was still developing). There was still a sense that these athletes — Rahul Dravid, Anil Kumble, e.g. — could appeal to a mass audience, not just by their performances but by their all-round middle class appearance.

Now, however, we face a different landscape. The danger of the franchise system is that it puts the money question up front. There’s no myth to the athletes; the bargain we make with them becomes explicit: we get entertainment, they get lots of money. This isn’t to say that cricketers didn’t care about money in the 1990s or even before; I think the match-fixing scandal that brought down Cronje et al. did more damage than we realize. But there was a useful illusion in place that allowed me — and still does — to look at Dravid and see hard work, sincerity, intelligence, and not “really rich guy.” So: will cricketers’ standing survive the IPL onslaught, when their salaries are so publicly determined, and that too by a mechanism as crude as an auction? Will T20 players command allegiances across the spectrum? Will Test-only ones do? Can they claim to be national heroes, or merely symbols of a niche market or the prize possessions of the Indian consumer?

Which is why the Rahul Dravid retirement was so poignant. He hadn’t played an ODI in years, and he seemed like he belonged to a different time. His brief return (and exit) to the stage only made gap in eras more glaring: will the future generations ever produce as fitting a man as this one? Didn’t it seem like a man from a simpler time had just passed — or am I only indulging silly, naive nostalgia?

Four Years of Ducking Beamers

This month four years ago, I started Ducking Beamers: A Cricket Blog. The inspiration for the name came from a moment during India’s 2007 tour of England, when S. Sreesanth (accidentally) bowled a beamer near Kevin Pietersen, who fell to the ground and stared incredulously. I liked the complexity of the event: if Sreesanth had bounced the ball so that it crossed Pietersen’s head — and even hit it — he would have been congratulated by his teammates. The violence of the ball, in other words, would have been deemed ‘acceptable.’ But because he simply hurled the ball at the batsman, he had to apologize.

At any rate, four years ago I was  a fresh college graduate interested chiefly in the post-colonial issues posed by the game (CLR James’ book still lay, unread, on my bookshelf). So, I began with a post on Norman Tesbitt, a racist British minister who suggested all immigrants needed to root for the English cricket team as a loyalty test. Then, in early 2008, the Harbhajan-Symonds mess occurred, giving me more opportunity to explore the game’s racial undertones. (It’s embarrassing to read now where I stood on that conflict; I really should have sided more explicitly with Symonds.)

Over time, though, I have become interested in two topics: a) How do cricket fans experience the game now? That is, what has changed about the medium — from radio, to television, to the Internet — and how does this change affect how we ‘see’ the game? And b) Cricket’s troubled relationship with modernity. I have come to look at Test cricket as a crucial and necessary anti-modern space; a tribute to an earlier rhythm of life that did not emphasize human agency or ability, but rather the power of nature and fate. That seems more abstract than I wish, but browse through a sample of my favorite posts below to get a firmer idea of what I’m about.

Before that, I want to say thank you to my fellow bloggers for making this a rewarding endeavor. Despite my best attempts, my blog receives little more than 3,000 visitors each month (IPL and World Cup seasons aside). But I’ll trade any flood of visitors for an insightful comment from Homer, Kartikeya, Devanshu, Samir, or the many other bloggers smarter than I. As they say here in the U.S.: Four more years!

A SAMPLING OF MY WORK:

My first post: “I Can’t Get No Assimilation

PERCEIVING CRICKET:

Celebrity Culture: When Shah Rukh Khan Met Dhoni

The Best Cricket Camera Angles

Living in a Textual World

Waking Up to the Result on the East Coast

Sacked IPL Cheerleader

CRICKET AS ANTI-MODERN:

Eoin Morgan and the Case Against Modernity

Crying for Bucknor/The Umpire as Tragic Figure

The English ‘Heavy Roll’: Chance, Agency, and Spitzer

What Does the BCCI and Cricket Mean to the Indian Middle Class?

I want to sum up the debate on the regulation of cricket in India (as my last post, apparently controversial, provoked all sorts of opinions). There are, largely, two broad themes at work here: first, the legal and technical problem of controlling the BCCI, and second, the cultural and moral and political importance of cricket and Indian nationalism.

For more on the first problem, see my previous post. There’s a question about whether or not the BCCI is a private entity — and therefore exempt from public transparency laws — or a public entity that controls a major public interest with state patronage. Personally, I’m of the latter view. Even here in small-government America, the state does periodically involve itself in the workings of its sports leagues; most notably in recent years over the brouhaha about steroid use in baseball.

But let’s talk more about the second problem: it’s clear that cricket is modernizing, and one of the major drivers behind this trend has been the Indian middle class. The world is waiting for two markets — India and China — to take over the role of the American consumer and keep the global capitalist machine humming. And we, as cricket fans, are getting our first glimpse of the power of the Indian side (rise of T20 format; the IPL; the maddening schedule; the fights over UDRS).

But there are also some tough questions here, both for the game and Indian society at large: will the Indian middle class act the same way as the European/American ones did during the Industrial Revolution? Rana Faroohar of The Daily Beast doesn’t think so, observing an odd mix of “pride and insecurity” in the newcomers:

The emerging bourgeoisie is a patchwork of contradictions: clamorous but rarely confrontational politically, supporters of globalization yet highly nationalistic, proud of their nations’ upward mobility yet insecure and fearful they will fall back, fiercely individualistic but reliant on government subsidies, and often socially conservative. Many of the aspiring elite seem willing to let the powers that be—whether authoritarian governments or elected ones—call the shots as long as they deliver the spoils of growth.

Political observers more astute (and expert) than me are needed to explore the full range of pathologies (and abilities) of the Indian middle class. But I have noticed a worrying trend wherein on-field disputes — think Harbhajan-Symonds — are conflated with some conception of “national honor.” It was even said once that India’s not being able to host IPL-II was a cause for national shame.

Andrew Miller of Cricinfo has recently suggested that ridicule is the best way to prod Indians to act and change. Indeed, I think a major force driving the recent anit-corruption protests in the country has been the feeling that the Indian babu is not just breaking a moral code — that much can be forgiven — but also humiliating and embarrassing the country. But in international contexts, some Indians are too quick to defend their institutions and ways, so much so that it leads them to a blind defense of the BCCI and its overlords. (Related e.g., Sunil Gavaskar’s recent tantrum about Stuart Broad wearing a sponsor’s cap at a presentation ceremony and what it said about supposed English ‘double standards.’)

I worry that the “bad” features of the Indian middle class — the Hindu nationalism; the post-colonial inferiority/superiority complex; the insecurity; the brash consumerism — will win over the “good” features — the ingenuity; the drive; the audacity. And I fear this battle will spill over into cricket faster than we all realize.

How An Indian Cricket Fan Can Get Through The Day

There’s one comfort in losing to England: you know they have been here before. Not too long ago, the Australians handed a 5-0 whitewash to the English in a much more important series (in terms of cultural and historical significance) than this one.

Why does this matter? When teams lost to the Australians, there was only bitterness left to be had. For boys of my generation, the Australian hegemony was complete, seemingly permanent and the only constant in the game. Losing to them was a rite of passage. They alone knew the rules of alchemy, and you could either resent or appreciate the way they conjured their spells. Losing to the English, however, is different. We know they are mortal. We know that in the space of a few years, they went from receiving that whitewash to handing out this one.

And so, a new logic of equality works in cricket now. It goes like this: “If they can do it, so can we…” It’s a line the Australians would never let you utter; so comprehensive the gap between you and them. The English should enjoy their current triumph, but they have yet to climb to Australian heights. There’s a line from Ecclesiastes they’d do well to remember: “I returned, and saw under the sun, that the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, neither yet bread to the wise, nor yet riches to men of understanding, nor yet favour to men of skill; but time and chance happeneth to them all.”

Give Me A Reason To Watch The Oval Test

Is there any reason to watch the Oval Test? The specter of the whitewash is a faux-drama; even if England lose or draw this match, they will have made the same point a whitewash would have. That is: the English team is really, really good, especially at home, and India is exhausted.

I suspect the stakes for Dhoni are higher; if he can pull off a victory, he can at least swash away the clouds gathering around his captaincy. But that’s not exactly the best-case scenario for an Indian fan. If you’re playing the long-game and your vision and strategy extends beyond next week, then you should be lobbying for a 4-0 whitewash. The harder the drubbing, the more space to reformers have to make their case that radical change is needed.

Already, we are seeing signs of such a movement. Cricinfo reports that Anil Kumble — now head of the Karnataka Cricket Association — is lobbying for change:

ESPNcricinfo has learned that Anil Kumble, who attended the meeting as president of the Karnataka Cricket Association, strongly suggested the BCCI review the performance of the national side in England in a rational and clear-sighted manner, particularly when it came to issues of player burn-out and overuse. The quantity of cricket some of India’s players have been involved in since the start of the year has been pointed to by several analysts and ex-players as a possible reason for India’s dismal performance in England.

A 4-0 result will align the interests in a proper way: the players will be angry and press for change; the fans will be angry and press for change; the businessmen running the BCCI will fear for their product and accept change. Of course, it’s more likely that India will lose/win, the fans will move on as soon as the ODI series begins, and India will go on to play and win against the West Indies later this year. And on and on we go.

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