Jarrod Kimber's Blog, page 54

Two Chucks at Headingley – day 3

Ian Bell, get out of my birdcage

There was a time when I thought instead of playing Test Cricket; Ian Bell should be oiled up, naked and playing his cover drive in a giant birdcage at parties.

That was the old Ian Bell, the nervous Ian Bell.  The Ian Bell who could play a cover drive so good Leonard Cohen would write it a song one minute, and then miss a straight ball the next that would make his mother change and consider changing her name.

The new Ian Bell is something else.  When he’s in his special happy place, the ball dances of his pretty blade like a butterfly on a beautiful spring day.  He’s almost impregnable.  Technically sound, mentally tight, and easy.  No matter who he plays against, when he’s in that magic mode, it looks like you could fire bricks, missiles or copies of 50 shades of Grey at him, and nothing would get through him.

Since 2010 he’s averaged over 60 from a guy who was dropped in 2009.

The old Ian Bell never seems too far away though.  Yapping at the heels of the improved model and occasionally biting him.

Everyone has their own theory on the run out against India at Trent Bridge. But one thing that can’t be denied was that Ian Bell had a massive lapse of concentration that caused a stupid mistake.  In the UAE for the series against Pakistan, he batted like someone threatened to burn all his video games if he made runs.  And today, well, today.

Ian Bell’s shot today should be shot behind a curtain and fed to unfussy dog.

It was disgusting to look at, it’s only redeeming feature was that Ian Bell didn’t fall over playing it.  There is no way to describe this in words and do its awfulness justice.

If Simon Katich, Phil Hughes or Shiv Chanderpaul had played this shot it would have been awful looking, and mocked, but people would have forgotten the image soon enough.  For Ian Bell to play a short that was cricket’s equivalent of placing a bag of vomit in the washing machine, it doesn’t go away.  It’s just there, in my brain, wildly swinging with no footwork near my primary somatosensory cortex.

When I watch England, I want to get past Trott, Cook and Strauss to get to Bell.  But not for this.  No. I don’t want it.  Make it stop, Bell.   Either stay classy, or go back to being pretty and frequently dim witted.

No one can keep their beauty forever, but you don’t have to give it away with a wild unbalanced swing like that.  Belly, you’re prettier than that.

Either way, for this crime against eyes, I’m taking you out of my oversized birdcage.

Alviro and the new saffas

South African sort of tripped, fell, hurt themselves and had other things on their minds as the first Test started.

Their last series was an unofficial T20 competition where they were beaten by Zimbabwe in the final. From there they went to Switzerland for the sort of male bonding camp that sports psychologists and coaches love. Then their heart, the South African rock, Mark Boucher almost loses an eye and has to go home. They lose a back up bowler with real pace from their squad. And even while winning the first Test one of their previous team-mates had a positive urine test come out.

They shouldn’t have won the first Test so easily. And they shouldn’t be in a position where in this Test they can’t lose.

I expected big things from South Africa this summer. Their bowling attack is more fearsome than a Christopher Nolan batmobile. The batting has a certain weight to it in experience and runs. And they’re a quality team bonded unit; as you’d say in press-conference speak.

What I didn’t expect was them to bully England so easily. Beat them, sure, it could happen. But grind them down into little particles, chip away at their confidence, take away their spinner, make their bowlers look drab and convince their batsmen to give away starts, no. Didn’t see that coming.

Part of it was the weird start to the series. But mostly it was because for a long time South Africa have been ordinary in Test cricket. In 2008-09 they were the first team to beat Australia at home since Sylvester Stallone and Sandra Bullock tried to kill Wesley Snipes in the sci-fi classic Demolition man. Beating Australia was the culmination of winning nine out of ten series in a whirlwind period of destruction and bullying. That made them a sort of unofficial world No.1. In their nine series since then they’ve won three. THREE.

Steyn, Kallis, Amla, Morkel, DeVilliers, Boucher, Smith and Philander are in their team, and more than a few other handy players have come and gone in that time, and they could only win three out of nine series. The only one they lost was against Australia, everything else was a draw. They’ve draw with India (twice), England, Pakistan and Australia. They’ve defeated West Indies, New Zealand and Sri Lanka.

It’s not exactly the results of a team set up to demolish the world’s best team at home. It’s a polite record that bothers no one.

In roughly the same period of time England have played 12 Test series. They’ve won nine of them. In their last three they’ve won, lost and drawn. There were signs they were vulnerable. But that’s on really fast pitches or really slow pitches. Not their own pitches where they’ve been prancing around like greek gods for the last few years. And while South Africa had some heavy weapons, there was also a fair bit of recent history (from both sides) to suggest they wouldn’t exploit it.

Part of the reason for so many draws is that Cricket South Africa don’t schedule full Test series. They prefer ‘seriesettes’ of only two Tests, or bargain basement three-Tests series. Both of which lend themselves to drawn series. And then they tend to win the first one, fall asleep in the second one, and it’s drawn before most people have switched on.

That could have happened here. Headingley has bowled out batting line ups before they’ve stepped out. Australia against Pakistan, England against Australia and England against South Africa all bore the brunt of batting in the first dig here. And with England playing an extra quick under cloudy skies, South Africa could have folded and given England a chance to draw.

Instead the least naturally talented of their seven batsmen fought, scrapped, limped and edged his way to a massive score. By doing that, Petersen dragged South Africa, very slowly, to a total that couldn’t lose this match. Maybe it didn’t give them the best chance to win, but Alviro can’t control his own hamstring, never mind the weather. At the very worst, they head to Lord’s still up in the series. In the past, players like Alviro (their non-champions) would go missing in big games like this. They had a soft under belly of seemingly talented players who went absent at crucial times. Alviro did the exact opposite; he stood as tall as he physically or mentally could.

The South Africa of 2006-2008 would have won or drawn this last Test. The South Africa of 2009-2011 would have lost this Test.

They’ve beaten England at their own game so far, but they’ve still got work to do. While a draw against the No.1 team away from home is far from embarrassing; they owe it to themselves to do more. Amla, Kallis, Smith, Petersen and the bowlers deserve to leave this country as winners.

In World Cups, South Africans are known as chokers. In Test cricket they’re often under-performers. This tour should not have gone as well as it has. They have the team and advantage to destroy England at home, dramatically snatching the No.1 title officially. Or they can draw limpy from here and have the amazing Oval Test mean very little at all.

two chucks at headingley day 2

Thanks to punk cricket for my Mike Brearley T shirt. Everyone should own this, or any, Mike Brearley t shirt.

Two chucks at Headingley

Ravi and the Dragon

It sounds like a weird fairytale, but Ravi Bopara may have just been slain by the dragon. Not an actual giant lizard thing with wings, but the term some cricketers use for a drag on (see what they did there?).

It was a perfect ball to drag on. Short enough to encourage a back-foot shot, slow enough for the batsman to go a bit early, wide enough to be played with an angled bat, and Bopara played his part to perfection. It was as if Terry Gilliam had meticulously directed it.

If it wasn’t Ravi Bopara, I wouldn’t be writing this.

The good Ravi has a swagger, hits the ball beautifully, looks like he’s indestructible, has a cheeky grin and is so confident he scripts his hundred celebrations. The man has slammed a double century in a List A game and averaged over 90 in the last ODI series against Australia. Ravi has the tools to be a Test match batsman.

The bad Ravi has little more than a sad face.

In the Ashes of 2009, Shane Warne got in his head before the series and it appeared that Bopara just could not get Warne’s voice out. Gone was the swagger, confidence and batsmanship, in its place was a confused man who looked he was about to cry at any moment. I’ve never felt more like running out on the field and hugging a player.

England played perhaps the most evil role in this; they kept Ravi in the side. While Warne the pundit demolished him mentally and Ben Hilfenhaus dealt with him physically, England forced him to play four Tests. They would state that this wasn’t torture, but it looked like cricket’s version of water boarding to me.

It wasn’t even Ravi’s worst series. Sri Lanka on his debut was a massacre, three ducks in five innings, a best of 34, and yet he fought back to score three hundreds in three Tests against West Indies shortly after. That was before his shocking Ashes in ‘09.

In the first innings against South Africa at The Oval, Ravi was horrible. From the moment he stepped out on the ground he looked like he wouldn’t last long. The South Africans sensed this and howled at him like angry dogs. They were right to do so. His faux pull shot was dreadful in every single way. Hopefully no analyst or assistant coach made him watch it again.

Then in the second, he looked fine. One pull shot off Dale Steyn was so good it made people in the member’s cry. He toughed out the hard times, handled the bowling well, and had set himself up for the sort of knock that allows you a few ups and downs without the threat of being dropped.

And then he dragged on.

The hate on the internet at Ravi was as immense as it was predictable. In a team like England’s, he’s a very easy target.

While you can question Ravi’s technique at times, it’s definitely strong enough to survive in Test cricket. His mind on the other hand, doesn’t seem to be. There is something not quite firing for him. Something’s holding him back. Something in his head.

It’s not a dragon, as they can be stopped with a sword or by sacrificing a virgin. Ravi’s problems are far more complicated than that. Maybe he needs security, maybe he needs a rest. But he needs something.

Two chucks day 4

Two chucks at the Oval day 3

I stuffed up the end, so when it looks like it ends, it does. Don’t go looking for some easter eggs or shit like that.

Trott’s nightmare, Amla’s cheesecake

I’ve not been inside Jonathan Trott’s head for the last two days, but I bet he’s had more than one nightmare in that time. You know the nightmare. You mark your guard on a flat pitch, twice, face a whole host of dot balls, clip a few on midwicket till you get to 60 runs, and then suddenly realize you’re naked as the bowler comes in and you play a rash cover drive giving up a hundred.

To make Trott feel worse, he’s had Amla showing him exactly what he should have done. Make a big hundred and bat the opposition out of the game. There is a little Trott in Amla, but not as much Amla in Trott.

Trott is not an ugly batsman to watch; if Graeme Smith is a Morlock (and he is) when he bats, then Trott is an Ewok. But Amla is something far more fetching. He bats in a way that tests the sexuality of many cricket fans. Every back-foot push through the covers sent the Oval crowd in semi-orgasmic murmurs. And, like Trott, he can bat for days and days without seemingly being affected by the world around him.

On a flat pitch like this, getting out players like Cook, Smith, Trott or Amla requires a shovel and industrial sized black bags.

South Africa were poor on day one, and they were lucky Trott helped them. Aside from Swann, the England bowlers were worse on the third day than South Africa were on day one. They haven’t been helped, as the ball hasn’t swung or seamed much, or at all.

The England seamers were punished for all the times opposition teams have had to stand there mute as English batsmen ground to massive totals. Had you stumbled into the ground after emerging from a coma, you’d have laughed at anyone suggesting this was the best bowling attack on earth. They were waiting for mistakes, and they might have to wait a few days for all ten of them. Their lack of creativity was staggering, and they seemed to lose their ability to keep the pressure on.

When Broad had two short midwickets for Amla as he bounced him, it stuck out as perhaps England’s first radical plan in 100 overs of cricket. It didn’t work. I’m not sure how you get Amla out on a pitch like this, but neither are England. You could offer him cheesecake in the hope he’s lactose intolerant. Surely England have a coach for that?

The ordeal seemed to send Strauss crazy. He was running around like a five-year-old school girl and breaking his glasses at various times. And he had a smile of a chilling serial killer, rather than his usual determined blank look. England have been so used to steam rolling opponents with efficiency, that they never expected South Africa to bounce back up. But they did, with the second new ball, and now the bat.

It’s not Trott’s fault. Many English players have been below par so far in this game. But I bet as Trott jogs from fine leg to fine leg, he’s thinking of how much he’d prefer to be the person boring and blunting the bowlers, and not just watching it. It’s what he does well, but over the last two days, it’s what Amla does better.

Two chucks at the Oval for day 1