Monthly Archives: July 2005

losing power

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The most telling blow we will see in this Ashes series has been dealt, and so early on. Alec Stewart has made an appearance in the press providing advice to the English batsmen on playing El Warno – play the ball not the haircut. What hope for England with this sort of advice coming from a cricketer of such anti-calibre? Stewart grossly underestimates El Warno if he thinks the hair can be ignored. The English batsmen need to be taking everything into account. They would be better served perhaps if they ignored the ball – this is the very site where all the terror issues from – and concentrate on nothing but the hair. Surely, then, the intimidation they feel would be less? Even after the first test, right up until tonight, I still felt England could salvage something out of the series, there was no doubt they were stronger- as soon as Alec Stewart steps in it is surely all over.

Another example of this phenomenon – the phenomenon of the perennial loser – was to be seen in the reports coming in from day 4 of the first test of Nasser Hussain executing a rain dance behind the pavillion. Of course the exact moment his body began shimmying would have been the moment the clouds parted and the sun broke through. Nasser is Wile E Coyote.

the Australians declare a day of rest

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Last night I was sure the rain was appropriately declaring a rest day in the cricket to honour Lance Armstrong’s final ride in the maillot jeune and his 7th straight le tour victory. Undistracted coverage for sbs would have been fine, Australia had given themselves plenty of time. The Australian’s wouldn’t have begrudged Lance his day. The two greatnesses have coincided for many years, the Australians are not strangers to the problems of yellow, the respect is huge and mutual – the Australians gathered together on the balcony to pay tribute to Lance, who earlier had toasted Glenn McGrath’s performance from the comfort of his bike. As it turned out the weather didn’t quite come through for Lance – his final ride was a wet one into Paris and the cricket started up just in time to conflict with the final few kilometres of le tour. Australia did their best to minimise the impact, it took them only 40 mins of game time to finish off the last 5 wkts. McGrath was doing that thing he does late at night where the wkts just keep replaying themsleves. In the end, over the course of the test match, McGrath dismissed every single English player, except the great KP. One day le P will be the saviour of English cricket, one day he will win the Ashes for his team (not this year though).

(Do those cute little stubbie holders the Australian’s keep their celebratory vino‘s warm in have their names on the back?)

the golden pigeon

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McGrath’s always been written up as a machine. It’s time he was given the credit he’s due – the man is a frikkin TIME machine! McGrath’s interesting relation to time is well documented: his uncanny ability to remember every single one of his now 504 test dismissals; his prohecies and their inevitable fulfillment; the transformation that has been heralded in this blog. All these tell us something about the engagement McGrath has with his times. He is intensely involved. He inhabits his time fully (much the same as he inhabits the Lords’ pitch) and can move freely along the loops that make up the McGrath-space continuum (or, as it is true he makes the space his own as well, Mcgrath is the Lord’s pitch, then we can call it the McGrath-McGrath continuum).

It seems to be that it is upon nearing and reaching landmark figures that McGrath reveals his talents most clearly. In the season of 2000/1 he predicted he would dismiss first Campbell then Lara for his 299 and 300th wkts respectively. He did this, in consecutive balls, and then for his 301st wkt completed a hat trick, dismissing Adams with the next ball – surpassing prohecy. In taking his 500th test wkt McGrath has revealed a different, perhaps more profound, version of his machinic ability to synthesize time. Maybe it was the lateness of the hour and the surreal air cricket takes on when its being transmitted from the other side of the world at 2.00 am, but it seemed to me, just as a routine action repeats & repeats in a dream that is struggling to get its narrative going, that McGrath was taking the same wkt over and over again. He reached 500 and simultaneously reached 501, 502, 503, 504. Maybe that is an exaggeration but at least 3 of these wkts were indiscernible from one another. McGrath had captured a moment of time and was freeing it to play out its scene over and over again. But his boots had changed colour (if dizzy is a stalliongull, Glenn is now a ponypigeon). It couldn’t have been the same moment. It was the same moment but slightly displaced. McGrath, contrary to popular conception is no metronome. His repeating beats are filled with all the vagaries of time travel, the differences reinvigorate the sameness and make the repetiton volatile. Rather than redundancy McGrath gives us incredbile effectivess and movement – he moves us deeply. I am in the lucky situation of having a mobile phone number very similar to Glenn’s, and was privileged to receive, on Friday, a text that read ‘go glen – luv mum’ – It was very cute that his own mum had spelt his name wrong, and all in all a touching tribute to the great pigeon, lord of Lords, lord of time.

nihilism & cricket

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I’m a bit behind the times here. I have to go all the way back to the first day. In test match time this it is like eons have passed. I remember watching Australia bat. While all around were deploring their lack of application, their irresponsibilty and the lack of respect they were displaying for England’s bowlers, I was finding it telling. It was the first innings of the Ashes and Australia were playing completely nihilistically. They didn’t care how many runs they were going to score, they just going to go head-on at everything that was thown at them. It was extraordinary cricket. If there is dedicated planning and considered thought behind utterly nihilistic actions can it still be nihilism? It was clear to me that Australia knew the day was going to consist of all out violence, coming from the English bowlers. It was clear that Australia’s very conscious decision was to never take a step back from this. They were simply going to counter it with their own violent batting. It was of no concern to them if they lost wkts in the process, they knew this would happen. They also knew that however many runs they scored, they would still be right in the test match – there’s always a new day in sight. The important thing was absolutely to show no respect whatsoever for England’s quicks – to make it clear that the Australian batsmen knew they could bury England without a care. It’s only one innings and they probably won’t play another like it for a while, but it carried such a strong statement – you can get us out for under 200 we really don’t care, whatever we get, we’ll work with that, it will be enough. Thus the savagery of day 1. The beautiful irresponsibility of Australia and their contempt for all of England’s concerted effort in paying Australia a compelling, brilliant violence. El Warno’s innings was absurd – it was by far in a way the greatest innings he has ever played.

Michael Clarke, Clarkey, Clarkie, Clarkster (the boy whose powers make him sad)

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A few weeks ago I saw the movie Volcano High. I was struck by a resemblance, perhaps it was just something in the bleachbetween the shit hot hero, of VH and golden boy MC. Perhaps it goes a bit beyond the hair. Kim, the VH protagonist has massive powers, he may be young but his powers exceed even those of the most feared teacher’s. It seems all Kim needs is to learn a little finesse. Such great power can not be unleashed lightly, without rigorous attention to the impact the unleashing could have upon the world. In the movie this attentiveness is what Kim is learning. All throughout VH Kim is getting involved in minor scraps with other students at VH. Though he is impeccably capable of defeating every comer, and despite wanting so badly to show what he is capable of in order to impress the captain of the Kendo team with whom he is smitten, Kim is continually, at the crucial point in the combat, reminded by a voice or a flashback that he must exercise restraint, that the reckless wielding of such great power as his can only lead to death. Kim is represented in one revelatory flashback as the boy whose powers make him sad. Kim is disciplined and without fail he fails to capitalise on the unbeatable position he has worked his way into. He lets his opponents beat him into the mud, in front of the girl of his dreams he willingly offers himself up to disgrace. But he has shown enough of his talents that there are those in the film that realise his greatness – the girl of course thinks he’s alright all along. Clarkey’s had 2 big innings in test cricket. His debut match in India and his home ground debut at the Gabba against nz. That is to say he’s put himself in positions where prodigious greatness has been well within his grasp. But of a night there have been whispers in his head. Whoa back there son, think of the game, don’t let it all go too early, protect your power, think of the ones around you & whatyou will destroy. So MC has satisified himself with small cameos and disappointing shots down deep fielders throats just when he looked to be striking the ball so cleanly. Displaying promise but not going on with it. In the end of VH Kim finally unleashes his full and now perfectly focussed powers upon the brilliant yet evil replacement teacher who is terrorising the school. An immense conflict ensues in the rain, Kim harnesses all the power the storm has to offer and leaves his opponent for dead, gets the girl… It will be interesting to see what happens in the Ashes if things are a little damp & a big innings from Clarkey is desperately required.

Everyone loves Volcano High in much the same way as everyone loves Clarkey. Buried but irresistible forces take to the sky – this is what happens in instances of volcanoes – during the Ashes, hearts long won already will be won once and for all.

one last quibble about the one day rule changes

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The issue of the supersub has been solved. That leaves the ineffectual powerplays to sort out. The argument has largely been that the occurence of the powerplays should be up to the batting captain rather than the bowling. That’s just some lame reversal. Its so bleedingly clear that the powerplays should occur purely at random. A chance draw. Sometime between the 10th over and the 45th coldplay songs will blare out over the ground PA, sirens will wail, lights will flash. The powerplay is announced. Imagine the excitement for everybody just not knowing when they might occur, the flurry of activity when all of a sudden one comes about – just when the fielding side most needed it, or just when they were looking comfortable. Suddenly, by chance, everything is disrupted. And then another one.

Please petition the ICC – its such an obvious winner of an idea.

2 sleeps (make the most of them)

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The excitement builds. The tension builds. The quotes come flying.

Of late, this is my favourite –

Matthew Hayden:

“Look, there’s always lots of talk about targeting players,” he said. “It’s the greatest load of rubbish of all time. The only enemy is really the cricket ball that comes down at you. Whatever is said and whatever is analysed doesn’t matter. What we have to do is bat and everything else will look after itself.”

It negates itself. And in negating itself confirms itself. It’s beautiful.

But who is this shadowy figure? (Clearly there was a Spanish interpreter on hand at the press conference.)

I am making noises in anticipation.

Ahab’s prohpecy

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Just a couple of days ago I happened upon the following passage from Moby Dick (Penguin classics 1992 edition, p 183)

– The prophecy was that I should be dismembered; and – Aye! I lost this leg. I now prophesy that I will dismember my dismemberer. Now, then, be the prophet and the fulfiller in one. That’s more than ye, ye great gods, ever were. I laugh and hoot at ye, ye cricket-players, ye pugilists, ye deaf Burkes and blinded Bendigoes! I will not say as schoolboys do to bullies, – Take some one of your own size; don’t pommel me! No, ye’ve knocked me down, and I am up again; but ye have run and hidden. Come forth from behind your cotton bags! I have no long gun to reach ye. Come, Ahab’s compliments to ye; come and see if ye can swerve me. Swerve me? ye cannot swerve me, else ye swerve yourselves! man has ye there. Swerve me? The path to my fixed purpose is laid with iron rails, whereon my soul is grooved to run. Over unsounded gorges, through the rifled hearts of mountains, under torrents’ beds, unerringly I rush! Naught’s an obstacle, naught’s an angle to the iron way! –

The prophecy is of a force rushing underground to acheive an inevitable end. Of course, as with all prohecy, it must be left up to the commentators, those great interpreters, to decide which parts of the prohecy apply to which segment of the current or impending situation – There is no doubt that Melville had a pretty clear idea of who was going to win this Ashes series, it’s just a matter of nutting out the correspondences. Who is dismembered and who will be the dismemberer. Who is lagging behind and still playing just cricket? Sailing, tunneling or riding patiently on to meet their epic fate.