atmospheric pressure

One of the very striking things about watching the cricket from England is hearing the incredible noise of the crowd, and the trajectories it takes in moving away from noise and into song. Thinking back to Edgbaston, where the crowd noise was at its most pronounced, there was an exemplary moment. Langer and Clarke were building a solid partnership and things were on the improve for Australia. It was nearing the middle of the Afternoon session, the middle of the cricket day. The crowd was quiet, noises were sporadic and isolated. The crowd had no syntax. Giles came on to bowl and Langer went on the attack – nothing out of hand but the crowd sensed something. The noise built abruptly, the trajectory of the crowd-force intersected with that of the game and it suddenly stopped drifting. The crowd sensed soemthing could be about to happen. Within the space of a few balls, and without any really discernible cause, the crowd noise moved from lonely unintelligent shouts to committed song – the crowd became a unified mass, harmonised and absolutely sensible. They were singing up a wkt. It was still early in Giles’ spell when he produced one of the best balls he’s ever bowled, perfectly pitched and turning fast. Clarke hadn’t a chance. The general metaphor places a value on the crowd = to that of a 12th English player. It seems more complex than that – the crowd is more like an element of the weather. They influence atmopsheric pressure. It wouldn’t be stretching it credit the crowds with the phenomena of reverse swing that we have been seeing the English bowlers use so effectively – the crowd clearly creates the perfect atmopsheric conditions for this. It also wouldn’t be out of the realms of possibility to suggest that the crowd was is some way responsible for the rain that fell on Old Trafford giving Australia the opportunity to escape from inevitable ignominy. Immense, concentrated pockets of atmospheric intensity will always produce unforseeable and at times unwanted effects. The crowd, however passionately united in desire, however tuneful, will always be wildly producing aleatoric effects. The twelfth man provides drinks and equipment changes. Quantitively the value to the team may be similar, but the two qualities are in no way analogous.

Some enjoy silence:

“The most beautiful thing about the finish last night was the absolute silence of the Barmy Army after Harmison bowled a spectacularly easy over for a tailender to bat out. It was so quiet in the ground that you could have heard a ball take Marto’s inside edge. It is a lovely sound, the sound of a shattered Barmy Army.” From my Sydney correspondent.

faith, hope

“Noel Coward once said that he could handle the despair; it was the hope he couldn’t stand.” From Gideon Haigh’s Ashes Diary.

I quite like the hope. I don’t think my hopes can possibly be disappointed from here on in. If I’m hoping for great cricket matches then I can’t be happier with the way my hopes have already been met. The thing that was becoming an issue for me was faith. The faith that no matter how good England are (and they are amazingly good – especially their bowling attack) my boys will not let England win these Ashes. Some sort of faith that England don’t quite deserve it yet (the current Australian team certainly doesn’t deserve to lose) and that justice will be done. Obviously this faith has been wavering. Hayden hasn’t produced the immensity of batting that I was sure he was going to – none of the batsmen had until Ponting on Monday. Gillespie has found nothing to provide fuel to faith. I was sure El Warno was going to complete that century on Sunday, I had complete faith in him, yet I was let down once again. My faith was strong after Edgbaston even though Australia had lost. The fight they provided was more than I had ever expected. I took this as an entirely good omen. After the first four and a half days of the Old Trafford test faith was gone, I was sure I would awaken to the news that Australia had been bowled out in the second last over. Close things were going England’s way – they had done everything to deserve it. Everything, it turned out, except win. Ponting’s quest was one of immaculate application. Faith is restored. My feeling after Edgbaston was that England wouldn’t win another test this series. Obviously that idea had been dismissed long ago. It is now back in force. Faith has been putting on this wonderfully exhilirating binary dance – a series of zeroes and 1s. May this spectacular light show go on, from this point on it will be superficial. The overall faith in the boys is as solid now as it ever was.

Clarkie is still to unleash his full powers (waiting for the right moment, the ultimate test, when everything is on the line).

Hayden is still due to annihilate.

El Warno may never score a test century but his greatness is unquestionable – he is forever redeemed.

McGrath has a new foot – his rejuvenation has begun, piece by piece (Brett Lee was given the grisly hand me down – it’s good to keep a high quality spare).

Ponting has graduated.

Perhaps Dizzy can even become a new master of reverse swing – he has 8 days.

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

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.