The fate of West Indies and the Rolly Janglers

On this tour of England, Darren Sammy will hope to need his umbrella more often than Mary Poppins did
© PA Photos



The West Indies must have arrived in England in confident mood for their three-Test tour, buoyed by optimistic historical precedent. They would have read that England is, officially, in the midst of a drought ‒ and thought instantly of the sun-baked summer of 1976, when the parched outfields of this land were scorched by the blazing strokeplay of Viv Richards, Gordon Greenidge and Roy Fredericks, and by the scurrying footsteps of England’s batsmen fleeing to the pavilion after being volcanically obliterated by pace of Andy Roberts and Michael Holding. “This could be our year,” they must have thought as they flew across the Atlantic. “Ignore all the form lines, Dr Drought could swing it for us.”

They landed a few days ago to find a country thoroughly marinated by rainwater and ensconced in thermal underpants, with Worcestershire County Cricket Club looking over the New Road outfield and anxiously checking eBay listings for an affordable-looking ark. This is not the most obviously droughty of droughts. If the current West Indies batting line-up – into which Greenidge and Richards must have been close to being recalled, despite being in their sixties ‒ rack up 687 for 8 declared in a damp green-pitched early-season series, as the 1976 vintage did on the brown-grassed desert of The Oval, with Richards scoring an unmatchably majestic 291, then suspicions may arise that Allen Stanford’s accountant has been operating the scoreboard.

For one of the 1980s West Indian touring parties to have lasted an entire day without losing a wicket, or indeed without conceding a run, against county opposition, would barely have raised an eyebrow. However, in 2012, yesterday’s wash-out against Sussex will not have helped Darren Sammy’s alarmingly inexperienced and institutionalised-bickering-depleted batting line-up to learn about the unfamiliar conditions that face them.

That is one of the six days of cricket before the first Test already washed down the plughole of history. Narsingh Deonarine’s and Assad Fudadin’s acclimatisation period has been further curtailed by visa problems delaying their arrival. (If only English cricket had formulated this cunning strategy when Bradman first toured here in 1930. “I’m sorry Mr Bradman, but your visa application has been rejected. Why? Er, well, it’s because we have reason to believe you have links to Al-Qaeda. Can’t go into details, Official Secrets Act. Off you pop. See you in the Bodyline Series.”)