Jarrod Kimber's Blog, page 52

a talkin shit bout movies podcast

I’ve started a new podcast that has pretty much nothing to do at all with cricket.

It’s called flick a week and it’s all about me and a mate making up a new film every week by literally talking shit.

Our first film is a 1970s paranoia political film with secular illuminati monsters in it. We start with that premise and add Phillip Seymour Hoffman to it, and so much more.

If you like the idea of me talking shit about making films we wont make, listen in, if you don’t, never mind.

An ode to cricket anthems

Sometimes a song writer will capture a whole generation in one chorus.

He, she, or they, will just stumble across something that doesn’t just speak to our heart, ears or hips, but to our soul.

In cricket, it’s happened before.

To our modern and mordant ears, Our Don Bradman sounds like a piece of ass, but to Australians in the 1930s it spoke about their hero and how he was theirs.

People loved that little unlovable prick, and that song captured it all.

Years later we were told that someone didn’t actually like cricket, but that they loved it. A song that appeared to be about a white guy about to be robbed was actually abut an opening batsmen about to be beaten to death by Roberts, Holding and co.

In this one magical moment, they capture the fear of opening batsmen, and the love of cricket.

At the same time some ad men had a conundrum, how do you make something Australian without using the word Australia. They whispered into our ears about men with moustaches, and then magically changed the word Australian to Aussies.

Those Aussies were told to c’mon aussies, c’mon, c’mon. Australia’s new fake cricket team were suddenly Aussie as. But it was more than that, it was a song about taking out the stuffiness of cricket, de-englishing it, making it ozstrayan. A generation sang along.

The latest generation also has an anthem. Penned as a warcry for a team owned by a newspaper, the Deccan Chargers song captured the cricket world’s attention. The IPL had an anthem, these weren’t corporate teams designed to be playthings for the rich, these were flesh and blood teams that were there for all of us.

According to this blog, these are the lyrics:

Tum ball daloge hum jaan dalenge …Tum khel kheloge ho hum jaan pe khelenge…(2)

no ifs no buts..no more agar magar…(2)

Go Deccan Chargers..Go Chargers Go GO GO GO..Deccan Chargers Deccan Chargers Go GO GO GO (2)

Tum jahan jaoge hum ko wahan paoge…Tum Ab bachke hum se kahan jaoge…yeyeh

Tum jahan jaoge hum ko wahan paoge…Tum Ab bachke hum se kahan jaoge…

no ifs no buts..no more agar magar…(2)

Go Deccan Chargers..Go Chargers Go GO GO GO..Deccan Chargers Deccan Chargers Go GO GO GO (2)

Now, I can’t tell you what every word here means, but it doesn’t matter. This isn’t a song about about meanings, it’s about feelings.

When this song was written, they didn’t mean for it it to be stupidly repetitive enough to speak to the morons, or just idiotic enough to appeal ironically to the hipsters, the power of the cricket anthem flowed through them.

Like Sehwag or Trumper, the writers saw the ball and hit the ball, nothing else mattered.

Sweet, pure, cricket. Straight into my ears, my heart, my soul. When I sing this song out loud, I feel a warmth that cannot be explained by science.

One time in Kolkata, a taxi driver spoke Bengali, I spoke English, but we bonded over one thing, “Go the chargers, go the chargers, go, go, go, goooooooooo”.

Now it seems like the Deccan Chargers and their anthem might simply disappear. It’s sad, but it’s the end of this generation, and nothing lasts forever.

Cricket will have ups and downs, peaks and troughs, and highs and lows, but as long as it is a sport than can inspire musicians to inspire us through cricket related songs, then cricket is doing rather nicely.

I don’t like cricket anthems…

Death of a Gentleman: the promo

So we’re making this film, and it’ll be out in May 2013. Here is the promo for it, it’s not a railer, or a teaser, but more the thing we’re dangle in front of people who wear suits and so forth in the hope they’ll give us lots of cash or employ someone to start designing DVD covers.

The stupidity of spirit

Imagine your favourite player was on 70. It’s a flat pitch. The bowlers are tired. The batsman is flying. And a hundred is certainly on the cards. Then, in a moment of nothing short of pure stupidity, the batsman is not deceived by the bowler, or out thought by the captain, he just half hits one and is caught on the long on boundary.

It was stupid, dozy and was clearly a mistake.

Now imagine the umpire went over to the captain and said, “Look, it was clearly just a stupid error, he didn’t mean it, I’m offering you the chance to call him back”.

Under the laws of cricket, he’s out. But it’s a rubbish way to go out, and really, it was an absent-minded mistake. No one would call him back though. Because his mistake was something that happens in cricket every day.

Alex Barrow’s mistake was different. Barrow repeatedly left his crease before the ball was bowled, which under the laws of cricket is out if the bowler takes the bails off. He was warned about this by Murali Kartik, and still he repeated it. Kartik probably doesn’t warn batsmen that if they keep playing across the line, they’ll probably miss one.

For those who believe this is a moral issue, and point to the spirit of cricket, Barrow broke the spirit of cricket before Kartik did. Most notably “To indulge in cheating or any sharp practice”. Barrow had left his ground early, more than once, he was cheating a few extra yards, flouting the laws of the game, questioning the spirit of the game, and he got run out.

Steve Snell said he was shocked, but how could he be? Barrow had been warned, don’t cheat or I’ll run you out. He did it again.

Batsmen have been backing up terribly for years. At the end of T20 matches, you can see batsmen more than a metre from their crease as the bowler delivers the ball. It means that the bowler, who is bowling with the laws and spirit of the game, is more likely to concede a run. Barrow’s offence was probably absent-mindedness, but he was still out of his ground before the ball was bowled, giving him a greater chance of taking a run.

To run a batsman out for this cheating is against the spirit of the game according to many people. It’s not written anywhere in the laws, or even in the spirit preamble. But the lawmakers did take time to allow a batsman to be run out for leaving his ground before the ball is delivered. We should forget that though, and only apply the vague spirit of cricket phrases.

And if we are to take the spirit of cricket literally, one of the sharp practices it mentions is appealing knowing the batsman is not out. That means that the spirit of cricket is broken on a minute-by-minute basis all around the world. Where is the outcry of emotion that Kartik has had when an international bowler appeals, but then tells his captain not to refer it?

Cricket fans need to remember that the phrase spirit of cricket came from a time when the game was sexist, racist and the laws of the game were shaped by betting. Amateurs were separated from professionals, white captains led the West Indies and Aboriginal fast bowlers were called for chucking. The spirit of cricket phrase was lip service for what was often a grubby disgusting sport.

The real spirit of cricket isn’t a bunch of pious words written by some champion batsman, it’s Basil D’Oliveira wanting to play against his own country who didn’t want him, Bob Blair walking out to avoid the follow on after his fiancé had died, Rick McCosker batting with a broken jaw, the arm bands of Henry Olonga and Andy Flower and the fact that Thilan Samaraweera plays on despite being shot by a terrorist while representing his country.

I’m pretty sure the spirit of cricket, real or imagined, can handle a batsman being run out for leaving his ground a bit early.

Strauss the overachiever

When England travelled to New Zealand for 2008/09, I didn’t realise that Andrew Strauss was on his way out. But then, I’d never thought of him much at all. That’s not to say I ever thought he was rubbish, he just wasn’t someone who I thought of much. I remember he had a good start, was around during some Ashes, was on the Warne highlight reel as one of his landmark wickets and liked to smack the ball through point. But for someone who had been around for so long, he was almost anonymous to me.

I think I would have picked out his image in a photo array, but it would have been touch and go.

The first time I realised there was something more to Strauss was that he moved to Hamilton to prepare for a Test series against New Zealand. It wasn’t that he moved to a place to prepare for a series, professional athletes do that now, but that he did it for New Zealand. Not a five Test series, or a series against the heavy hitters of world cricket, he did it for the team that series that some players treat more as a holiday than a proper series.

Strauss treated it more seriously than some of his team mates had treated the 06/07 Ashes.

It was from then on in I started taking more notice of Strauss.

When KP was captain (it really happened, google it) and the Indian tour got disrupted by the Mumbai Terror attacks. It was Strauss who showed the courage and conviction of a leader. He stated publicly that England should go back to India, and eventually the team agreed with him. It was the right decision.

In Chennai Strauss was a man on a mission, scoring hundreds in both innings. That’s some batting, and to top it off, it was in a losing cause. He’d dragged his team to India, then he’d put them on his back, and it wasn’t even his team yet.

Then it was, and Strauss turned a team of decent players into a professional unit that beat teams up with precision and tedium. They, briefly, took over the world. There is no doubt that without Strauss this team would have continued to be an inconsistent spoiler team.

That’s not to say Strauss was perfect. At several times during his career he was short of runs, his captaincy was slightly more conservative than his friend David Cameron’s front bench, and there were times it felt like he was Andy Flower’s puppet (which is not how he got his nickname muppet).

But for a Late blooming Test player to play 100 Tests, 50 as captain, win three Ashes (two in charge), beat the number one team 4-0 and claim the number one title all with a batting average of barely 40. There is something special to that. It’s an overachievement on a massive scale. Strauss found a way to drag the absolute best out of himself. And then he used the lessons he‘d learnt about professionalism on his own and made a whole team better.

In doing all Strauss went from a fairly forgettable opening batsman to a captain who’ll be mentioned for years to come. Strauss only touched greatness a couple of times, but who expected him to even touch it once? Especially with an average of 40.91.

Strauss was definitely much more than a forgettable opener with a few decent shots through point. I’m just glad we got to see it.

Noam Chomsky expresses an interest in playing Test Cricket for Australia

Professor of linguistics and philosophy at MIT, Noam Chomsky, has declared an interest in playing for Australia in Test matches.

Speaking to Jeremy Paxman on newsnight about the effect of Comic book films on Middle Eastern financial policies, Chomsky suggested he’d consider playing Test Cricket for Australia if asked. After breaking his own record for the most words said on university campuses in one calendar year, Chomsky said he needed new challenges, “I have often thought that if a rational Fascist dictatorship were to exist, then it would choose Cricket Australia”.

Test Cricket is an odd choice for an 83 year old American professor. Chomsky, rumoured to be a leg spinner, was introduced to the Australian Team through Julian Assange’s bootleg video of Mark Waugh’s last innings 116 at Port Elizabeth.

“In this possibly terminal phase of human existence, Test Cricket is more than just an ideal to be valued – it may be essential to survival” said Chomksy.

Cricket Australia CEO James Sutherland was excited to hear of the news. “We’ve been worried about the marketing of Test Cricket for a while now. Reality TV fans have T20, drunkards have ODI cricket, but the intellectual elite who love Test Cricket have often been overlooked, we think that Noam could provide a bit of excitement to the game”.

Asked whether it was a stunt, or whether Chomsky was qualified to play for Australia, Sutherland replied, “he’s not going to play every Test, perhaps not even every day of a Test, but in terms of exposure for our game, just his name mentioned alongside Test Cricket or the Boxing Day Test could provide us with a big boost internationally. I should add that in terms of his qualification, I am sure the ICC would allow us a one off exception for Noam, for the good of the game.” Sutherland suggested that Chomksy would probably be paid outside the Contract system.

While Cricket Australia were excited about the potential news, others like Ian Chappell were against it. “Look, Chomsky may have a hundred books to his name, he’s not a Test Cricketer. We shouldn’t be going down this path. Frankly, with Eddie Cowan already there, Australia don’t need another late blooming writer in their side. This bloke’s never played a shield game. It’s ridiculous”.

Brad Hodge called the decision a “horrendous publicity stunt” and called Manufacturing Consent (one of Chomsky’s books) a “ghastly attempt at assigning blame on the hard working men and women of America’s media”.

Neil Harvey was unavailable for comment.

When pushed on why Chomksy had picked Test cricket, he was non committal, but did say

“We shouldn’t be looking for heroes, we should be looking for good ideas”.

Australia play Sri Lanka in the boxing day Test this year. It’s the first time these two teams have come together for this Test since 1996 when Murali was called for chucking. Reporting on that match for the Adelaide Advertiser, Naomi Klein was moved to say “What haunts me is not exactly the absence of literal space so much as a deep craving for metaphorical space”.

imran and the new south africa

Imran Tahir appeared in front of me as an Alice-band wearing back-of-the-hand magician. Prancing around county cricket making batsmen look like complete idiots. The first spell I saw him bowl live was utter garbage. Half trackers were followed by full tosses and Samit Patel used him as little more than dental floss.

Then Patel went out, and Tahir went from a legpsinner who was there for punishment, to one there for retribution. He cut through the Nottinghamshire line up like a sword through butter. The only thing Nottinghamshire could have done to stop the carnage was to declare. Wrong’uns, sliders and legspinners came out of his hands like they were designed for nothing else. It was the ultimate in leg spinning porn.

Tahir even had the great backstory. You could almost imagine him walking around the globe, hustling people in cricket nets with his bag of tricks and telling stories about all the clubs he’s played with.

His global wandering got him a wife, a new passport and eventually a Test cap.

Paul Harris first appeared in front of me as a left-arm spinner with little spin, flight or guile, and a front arm that refused to work at all. He had a mullet, or half a mullet. It seemed that Harris got most of his wickets from the fact that batsmen were embarrassed to get out to him or occasionally because they just seemed to despise him. He was a spinner by personality only. Harris was a fighter, the sort of person who you don’t want to come up against in a reality show contest. But he was essentially weaponless. When he got wickets he had a certain angry happy face that was disconcerting.

Harris’ international career came about when Nicky Boje retired, Claude Henderson was not interested and everyone had forgotten Paul Adams. Harris was just the right guy in the right place who didn’t use his right arm at the right time.

Harris’ career was a testament to hard work and South Africa’s careful nature.

Tahir was an old school spinner. He couldn’t field, at all. His batting was a combination of not knowing how to bat and not caring how to bat . Harris also couldn’t bat, but he forced himself too. Knowing that he was rarely going to be a match winner with the ball, he fashioned himself into an arrogant version of Ashley Giles, and willed long innings with few runs without seemingly having the talent to do so. Both can also thank their careers to the all around skills of Mr Kallis, who allows South Africa to keep a spinner in the side even if their numbers don’t always warrant it.

Harris is old South Africa. Reliable, hard working, defensive and the safe option.

Tahir is the new South Africa. Different, enigmatic, attacking and a risky option.

In the non-cricket world, Harris would be the manager of a medium-sized organization who started in the mailroom, Tahir an enigmatic entrepreneur. Harris would only attack when everything was in his favour, Tahir will only defend when he is told he has too.

The South Africa of only a few years ago were far more defensively minded. They drew key series after key series. They’ve had many chances to grab the No. 1 title in dramatic circumstances, but they’ve never done it. It’s hard to believe this team has spent so little time at the top with the talent they have at their disposal.

The Gary Kirsten South Africa has been far better. The declarations of Graeme Smith at The Oval and Headingley were not like him at all. They won only one of their six series before Kirsten took over, they’ve one three of four since he has, and earned the number one ranking. Kirsten has taken a team with immense skill, and turned it into a team that wins. It’s not the first time for him.

In Tahir, Kirsten has an enigmatic wrist spinner playing for a country that hasn’t really embraced legspin in over a hundred years. Tahir’s first Test was Kirsten’s first as coach. That was perhaps largely coincidence, as Tahir had only missed a few Tests under the previous regime, and had played for them in the World Cup.

Importantly, since taking over as the main spinner Tahir’s record is not outstanding. His bowling average is three more than Harris’. He struggles against frontline batsmen. South Africa are working on him being a more stable and consistent bowler than he was before. One that can attack and defend. Which is what the new South Africa, the Gary Kirsten South Africa, do.

A big reason South Africa are No. 1 is a seemingly small event from Lord’s when Graeme Swann was run out. England were recklessly chasing the target, but doing it so fast South Africa had to be nervous.

Morkel, Kallis and Tahir were trying to get through the old ball as quick as possible, as Matt Prior and Swann swung hard. Then there was a miscommunication as Prior pushed for one single too many, Swann was short of his ground, but the throw was terrible. Tahir had to reach out to his right and then fling the ball back at the stumps. He did it well, so well that Swann was on his way, and England hit the new ball stumbling rather than running and it was all over.

The Alice-band wearing back-of-the-hand magician I saw in 2008 would not have had the ability to pull off a run out like that. He would have fumbled the ball, overthrown the stumps or never got himself into the correct position in the first place. It was working with South Africa that changed him. They turned him from a wandering oddity into the fifth bowler they needed, and a man capable of pulling his weight in the field.

Tahir is an attacking player who is learning how to defend. South Africa is a defensive team learning how to attack.

Tahir is still learning about Test cricket. His age might suggest experience, but he’s essentially been employing card tricks to domestic batsmen, and now he’s trying to rob banks. I think he has the skill, passion and energy to make a career as an international legspinner. But he’ll need a lot of guidance to turn the odd wicket taking ball, into a career.

And Tahir and South Africa are lucky to have Gary Kirsten. The world’s best cricket coach, and the now two-time coach of the No.1 ranked cricket team.

Indian Cricketers tell people they are about to die

While it was clear that watching a Mark Waugh ad about dandruff could kill you, he never said it outright.

The Indian cricketers have.

And it’s creepy and brilliant.

Based on the performances of Sachin, Yuvraj and especially Viru, I am now writing a horror script for them to star in.

The only one I won’t cast is Virat, because it’s clear he’s not acting and is actually a murderer.

If you’re reading this Virat, only joking. If I turn up with an armed guard when I have to interview you, that’s also part of the joke.

Apparently the players and BCCi want the ad banned. But only because they have just realised that Virat really is a serial killer.

As for Yuvraj and the grave digging scene, that’s in bad taste, isn’t it? I mean, in this day and age Yuvraj would have employed a guy with a truck to do that, wouldn’t he?

two chucks day 5 at lord’s

two chucks at lord’s day 4