Why KP should go

Those wicked guys at The Spin, are they really Englishmen? Bad enough they support Kevin Pietersen, but in the face of such incontrovertible evidence? After everything that has happened, The Spin argues that England needs to find a way to keep its only consistently genuine star as happy as possible ahead of the Ashes. But why? And at what cost?

The Spin will do well to remember that it operates from the land that introduced the wonderful game to all of us. The one game that embraces defeat as much as, if not more than, victory. It’s about playing the game, ain’t it? It’s about the spirit of the game, did I hear you say? Sign up here for an ECB life membership.

Look at what KP has done. Forget that he gave up his native South Africa and agreed to represent the English. Forget that he averages 51.09 after 50 tests and 46.65 after 91 ODIs, with a strike rate of 87.24. Mere numbers these. Even if they are better than that of any English player on display today. Playing the game is not just about batting and batting well, is it? The English of all people ought to know this better.

Look at what KP has done. He is bestowed the ultimate honour of the land, the English captaincy (rated above the knighthood in certain quarters) and he gives it up for petty reasons as conviction and not seeing eye-to-eye with the coach. So what if he still scores a century at the next opportunity? Hardly proves he is a team man, just plain a selfish one.

Look at what KP has done. He actually wanted to go home for a couple of days between two test matches. And when denied, he turns petulant child and punishes the West Indies with yet another century. Come on now, even the benevolent Englishmen can’t ignore this taunt.

Look at what KP has done. He speaks his mind, even if it is not the same mind as the wise ones who run the game. At the end of a tiring tour, he actually complains of tiredness. Surely he should know better? Surely he realises that cricket is not all about batting, not even batting better than any bugger in sight? It’s an all-round game, especially off the field.

The Spin’s argument is so self-serving it’s pathetic.

Yes, Pietersen contradicts himself; yes, his stream-of-consciousness interview technique throws up headlines; yes, he puts his foot in it. But, boy, can he bat: England's only hope of surprising the resurgent Australians is if he is in the right frame of mind.

What if England, God forbid, win the Ashes? How will they justify it?

… a bad win

(A kind of a sequel to ‘A good loss…’)

As India was serenely marching towards a hopefully progressive loss to Sri Lanka in the test series yesterday, England compounded their worries by winning the dead rubber test match against South Africa. Well as Kevin Pietersen captained and batted, well as Steve Harmison bowled (and batted) and well as England turned in a good all-round performance, the Pyrrhic victory can, if not seen in the proper light, cause more harm than good for England. For England’s selectors might well be tempted to brush some of the niggles in the team composition under the carpet and start seeing visions of yet another glorious victory parade at end of the next season.

Unlike the Indian team, this English team perhaps does not seem to need a large scale transformation. But there are some areas they need to watch out for, if they want a repeat of mirabilis 2005 and not of horribilis 2006-07.

The first act England has to get right is their thinking on the wicket-keeper’s slot. Sure, people like Adam Gilchrist and Kumar Sangakkara have given us the concept of the wicket-keeper-as-specialist- batsman. But let’s not forget that both of them (and Mark Boucher, another more than useful bat) are wonderful glovemen. The first job of the wicket-keeper is behind the wickets, and if he’s not good enough for that, a few runs in front of the wicket doesn’t compensate. Moreover, if the wicket-keeper has a bad day on the field, it is bound to reflect on his batting. Ask Tim Ambrose, Matt Prior and the few dozen others who turned up in English colours in the last few years. The flip side is true as well – a good performance behind the stumps can make the ‘keeper bat better. Look at Prasanna Jayawardene’s brilliance behind the stumps in the test series against India, and his then more than useful batting at a crucial time in the third test.

Now that we have had our fill of his grand appealing and not-so-grand fielding, it’s time to focus on Monty Panesar’s day job. While his performance has not been particularly bad, the fact remains that he does not seem to be a strike bowler, a bowler capable of singlehandedly winning test matches. Good for a few good spells, good for the odd wicket, but not much more than that. A glance at his records suggests that he has a problem bowling well in both innings of a test match. Apart from the one 10-for against the West Indies and the eight wicket haul against Pakistan (interestingly both at Manchester), there has rarely been a game when Monty has shone equally well in both innings. And in most test matches, you have to dismiss the opposition twice to win.

The England top order, in the absence of Michael Vaughan and the return to form of Paul Collingwood looks misleadingly settled. Pietersen is good as they come and Alastair Cook is looking settled, even if unable to convert enough half-centuries into centuries (his fielding inconsistency is a bit jarring as well). But in Andrew Strauss and Ian Bell one senses a soft spot in the top order. Strauss has never been the same after the selectors kept misusing him as a stand-in captain. (Even his success in that role seemed to make things more uncomfortable for all concerned, including himself.) The self-doubt, and the corresponding uncertainty of footwork and shot selection was well capitalised on by South Africa and the Aussies wouldn’t need much invitation to do likewise. Ian Bell needs to be a bit more than just a useful scrapper – apart from those three centuries in the 2006 series against Pakistan, his other five test centuries have been too far apart from each other. And whispers of his being a flat wicket bully are mounting. His coming in at No. 3 can put pressure on Nos. 4 and 5.

The English bowling line-up also presents a deceptively potent face. But James Anderson and Steve Harmison are both loose cannons, so the best England can hope for is that one of them fires in a match. (And don’t bet on Harmy going off kilter again.) The steadiness of a Ryan Sidebottom complements them well, one only hopes he sustains his momentum and keeps himself fit. And then there are the all-rounders.

I can’t remember when England had last had the luxury of two all-rounders (no, Ashley Giles was not an all-rounder, he could barely bowl), but in Stuart Broad and Andrew Flintoff (hopefully fully fit) they have that potential now. Except that the role definitions of these two blokes needs to be clearly charted out. Broad, notwithstanding Geoffrey Boycott’s irrational exuberance in comparing him with Sir Garfield Sobers, is clearly a bowling all-rounder – bowl about 20 overs a day and support the late middle order with some useful runs. If he starts focusing on those 50s and 100s as a batsman, he’ll be heading back to Nottingham sooner than he’d want to. As for Freddie, KP can’t afford to do the Vaughan and overbowl this man. Freddie can be talismanic to the team, and hence needs to be preserved. He’s not quite a Kallis in terms of stamina in both roles, so he needs to be used as a high-class bits and pieces player, oxymoronic as that expression may sound. Except in exceptional cases, get him to bowl about 15 overs a day and score some useful 50s at No. 6.

The good thing for England is that they seem to have cottoned on to a good captain, a captain who deserves his place in the team, who is perhaps the best player in the team, who is aggressive and who can take control of a game. He may not have a history of being a people’s person, but if he manages to get his aggression and performance to rub off on the others, he would’ve done his job. And yes, it will help if the Englishmen don’t train him to become too English in his approach. The South African in him is important if England want to benefit from his captaincy.

A good loss...

While a series loss is not a thing to celebrate, it was good that India lost the test and the series today. Imagine if India had contrived to win at the SSC today (in a reprise of Melbourne 1981, as a colleague fervently hoped). The gaping holes in the middle order would have been covered up with the inevitable explanations that accompany a heady victorious feeling: ‘They’re just one good knock away from success’, ‘It was just a one-off failure’, ‘They are great players, they will bounce back’… The spin twins would have been forgiven, why, even feted for their game efforts. And the general feeling would’ve been that all is well with Indian cricket.

Thankfully (no, I am not being cynical or defeatist here), India lost. Which means, hopefully, questions will be asked. And more hopefully, answers will be found. Sweeping changes are generally seen as over-reactions but may be it’s time to bring the broom out.

I believe there are possibly six slots open in the Indian test team. And that’s not counting the wicket-keeper’s slot into which MS Dhoni will surely walk in when he wants. (Is Dhoni indulging in his privileges a bit too much, one wonders, but that’s not the point of this post.)

Rahul Dravid has not been the same player ever since he resigned from the captaincy – even that tour of England, his last as captain, was forgettable for Dravid the batsman. He has managed just one hundred in some 12 test matches after that English tour, and even that was on the Chennai featherbed against South Africa. More than the loss of form (to counter those ‘form is temporary…’ arguments), Dravid looks positively agonised at the crease (and on the field – remember the catches he has dropped) – surely things we don’t know are going on in the man’s mind. It’s tempting to conjecture, but let’s move on.

It is sacrilege to talk of dropping Sachin Tendulkar, you might as well ask for God to be deemed human. But Sachin, his fans (remember to include me in that gang) and the selectors will have to face the hard facts. The wizard’s performance in Australia is certainly something to savour but one cannot forget that he is aging and the injuries have become more frequent. The scores in this series – 27, 12, 5, 31, 6 and 14 – surely don’t present a pretty picture, but more than the runs, the manner of the dismissals make for some really depressing viewing. Not reading Muthiah Muralitharan off the hand in the first innings of the first test, chasing a wide Chaminda Vaas delivery in the second innings of the second and twice padding up to incoming deliveries in third – fairly village, to be honest.

Sourav Ganguly may feel that he is the most under the scanner every time India under-performs. But then, considering he has the lowest batting average among the fab four should mean something. Moreover, after that dream series against Pakistan, barring a couple of fighting fifties at Sydney, a fifty in a losing cause against South Africa at Ahmedabad and another match-winning one against the same team at Kanpur, Sourav has done little to help his cause. The predictability of his dismissals – poking to slip seems to be his stock shot nowadays – makes him a sitting duck nowadays.

VVS Laxman may statistically have been the best of the four in the series, with scores of 56, 21, 39, 13, 25 and 61 not out, but those numbers are hardly Bradmanesque. Moreover, Laxman’s inability (it seemed as much unwillingness to me) to marshal the tail came to the fore again. This time it suggested a clear focus on playing for his place in the team rather than for the team, and that alone is reason enough to go the distance with the man. A round 6000 runs in test cricket is perhaps appropriate for this stylist, and ending tantalisingly short of 100 tests (he has 96 now) is also fitting for the man who, with a test average of 43.79, remains perhaps one of the bigger underachievers in Indian cricket.

It’s also worth looking closely at the performance of our spin twins, Anil Kumble and Harbhajan Singh. In a series in which Ajantha Mendis and Muthiah Muralitharan decisively grabbed 47 of the 60 Indian wickets to fall, Kumble and Harbhajan managed 24 out of the 38 Sri Lankan wickets to fall, 15 of which came in the second test. But while the M & M gang took wickets in a manner that was aggressive and confident, the same can’t be said of the Indian duo. There is a certain defensiveness about both of them, a certain lack of faith in their own abilities, evidenced by how they let Mahela Jayawardene manipulate them at will in Kandy and Kumar Sangakkara likewise at the SSC.

Time to go, gentlemen.

Adam's contribution

Whatever else he did (and you don’t need to read the different pieces on cricket sites and in the blogosphere to know that he has done quite a bit), Adam Gilchrist has ensured one lasting change in international cricket: the wicket-keeper can no longer be a just a useful batsman and an irritant for the opposition. (A wicket-keeper who is a rabbit with the bat? You are a sly Englishman, aren’t you?). Today’s wicket-keeper has to be a specialist batsman first. No longer for us the Alan Knotts, the Syed Kirmanis, the Ian Healys and the Ian Smiths. Instead, we have the likes of Mark Boucher, Kumar Sangakkara, Tatenda Taibu and MS Dhoni. The last-mentioned may not be the best wicket-keeper in his country, but he is perhaps their best wicket-keeper-batsman. Even Kamran Akmal, that ultimate anti-wicket-keeper, is persisted with by Pakistan, purely for his batting skills. And England, er, who is their wicket-keeper now?

Worth reading, again and again and again

It’s an article that’s more than nine months old; it’s about a cricketer who retired about eight months ago; and it’s about the cricketer’s lesser abilities. But this article on Cricinfo keeps resonating in my mind. It’s perhaps the best article I have ever read, for its sheer ability to tickle the funny bone without stating anything except the bare facts. Even the adjectives are not over the board and are always substantiated by numbers. It’s a glorious example of brilliant wit using simple statistics, this piece on Glenn McGrath by Tim de Lisle. Stop everything and read this, if you haven’t already. If you have, another read (and another, and another) won’t hurt.

At the entrance or at the exit?

The first list of players contracted by the Indian Cricket League (ICL) makes for interesting reading. The half-dozen international players include two South African cricketers – Lance Klusener and Nicky Boje – whose international career seems over. The other four, Pakistanis all, seem to have been snubbed in some form or the other by the Pakistan Cricket Board – Inzamam-ul-Haq being denied a central contract; Mohammad Yousuf and Abdur Razzaq being dropped from the T20 squad; and Imran Farhat running foul of the selectors by questioning his omission from the squad earlier in May.

But the interesting part is the list of Indian players. Included in it are six international discards, none of whom has had any significant level of success at the apex level, and a whole set of youngsters who may or may not have made the grade for the senior team in the near future.

So how is the ICL recruitment strategy likely to pan out, assuming they don’t get legitimacy status from the ICC? Of course, right now they would just grab anyone they get. But in the long run, will they wait at the entrance gate of international cricket or at the exit gate?

If they end up at the entrance gate, it may end up putting a lot of pressure on many stakeholders. The players themselves will have to decide which side of the fence to sit on. The ICL will have to make judgment calls on who is worth hiring and who is not – their talent scouts will have to match up to those of the official cricket boards. (Going by past evidence, that should not be tough to match though.) The boards will have to hike up salaries to ensure the good talent does not go away. Is it similar to the public sector and private sector battles for talent that has long existed in India?

If the ICL ends up at the exit gate, it may just about ensure that the stars don’t overstay their welcome in the national teams. At the same time, those stars may be able to extend their financial playing career as well. It could also pave the way for more youngsters into the national squads. Except that this strategy may cost the ICL a bit more.

Irrespective of the strategy it adopts, is the ICL likely to succeed? Will the matches have the same intensity as the official inter-country battles? What kind of pride will the players have at stake? Or will it be the international equivalent of that celebrity team from the England (I forget the name)?

Will we spectators turn up to watch a motley crowd of hopefuls-who-have-given-up-hope, international discards and one-step-away-from-retirement superstars battle it out in unrecognized games and series? Well, we moved from whites on five days to colours over 100 overs and now to the tamasha of Twenty20. We are nothing if not flexible in our cricket mania.

Dinesh Mongia said this about the ICL

My clear thought is, as a cricketer I want to play cricket. I play club cricket in Chandigarh, in Madras I play in corporate tournaments, I play Ranji Trophy for Punjab, and league cricket in England. Here again I get a chance to play with youngsters who are good, and foreign players.

As spectators, we perhaps are not unlike Mongia in sentiment when it comes to cricket watching. Any time, any where.

Well left

Steve James, writing in the Guardian, talks about the importance of leaving the ball, especially in the kind of conditions England and West Indies were up against at Headingley. He quotes Sir Vivian Richards: “You’ve got to do it in England,” he said, “In fact, in early season over here leaving the ball early on gave me more pleasure than it hitting the middle of the bat. You’ve got to show respect.”

Two interesting points being made here.

Leaving the ball actually gives Sir Viv greater pleasure than middling it. Counter-intuitive as it might sound, it seems perfectly sensible. It’s probably true in business as well – success is a function of not just what you choose to do but what you choose not to do as well. And it is not counter to aggression either – aggression does not mean going hell for leather against every delivery – it’s about choosing the right delivery to hit. A certain Mr. Sehwag can benefit from this advice.

Sir Viv talking of respecting the bowling? He who stepped inside the line of Mike Hendrick’s full-length delivery and flicked it for six over midwicket in the last ball of the West Indian innings in the 1979 World Cup Final? He who murdered bowlers across the world with shots all round the wicket? He who is still talked of in awe for his gum-chewing nonchalance and chilling stroke play? No, Sir Viv was talking of respecting the conditions. If the ball swings, it is a function of the nip in the air. If the ball wobbles, it has to do with the wind behind the bowler. Respect for nature is what Sir Viv is referring to. An interesting way of saying “adapt to the conditions.”

Will they? Won’t they? Should they?

Now that the Bangladesh tour is done and dusted, India face up to the challenge of the tour of England. There is bound to be a lot of speculation on the team selection, and whether the ones that finally get selected deserved to be in or not. Let me make my task easier, and ponder over some of the doubtful starters.

The captain of my not-bound-for-England team is VVS Laxman. No, let me confess, I am a big fan of Laxman. But while he has prospered on the bouncy pitches of Australia and the predictable ones of India, I am not sure the juicy English wickets are quite his cup of tea. Moreover, he has been a bit rusty for want of match practice for a few months now. Add to this the fact that he is bound to be a backup for the untouchable trio of Rahul Dravid, Sachin Tendulkar and Saurav Ganguly – which may not make him too comfortable. And his fielding outside the slip cordon, er, what fielding?

For the first time in a really long while (when did it happen last?), India will probably carry two wicketkeepers. While I am not arguing the merits of Mahendra Singh Dhoni and Dinesh Karthik, I would not carry Dhoni as the first ‘keeper. Not in England, surely. I would carry him though, but as a second wicketkeeper for the tests. His batting, of course, is never going to stand up to count in English conditions, except perhaps on the Oval shirtfront towards the end of the tour. Of course, Dhoni will be the first choice for the one-day internationals. And if I get Karthik to keep wickets, I will not open the batting with him. No sir, I would recall a certain Virender Sehwag – he of the slam-bang-sorry-ma’am school of batting. Harmy’s deliveries need to be directed, to the boundary, and who better than Sehwag to do that?

Munaf Patel is another person I’d prefer to give a rest. With his injury problems, his non-existent fielding and batting, and his much-reduced pace, his accuracy and line-and-length stuff is unlikely to count for much. And if he is injured, he can’t carry too heavy a drinks crate either, can he?

It may seem like stating the obvious, but Ajit Agarkar is another who should not make the cut. Agarkar seems to be the never-forgotten man of Indian cricket, and some wise man may remember his century at Lord’s (in a lost cause, in case you forget) and consider taking him as a specialist all-rounder.

They are unlikely to select him, but I do hope the selectors do not consider Robin Uthappa for the test matches. With a technique like his, being blooded in English conditions is a free ride to retirement.

Notwithstanding his (supposedly) useful batting, flashy sunglasses, and genuine flight, Ramesh Powar is not a man for tests in England. He is so slow in the air, the batsman can play two shots to his quicker one.

So which of these will make it? And who will be the other surprises in the squad? We’ll know soon. In Indian cricket, the selection phase is usually as entertaining as the real game; some times even more.

New Stew at TMS

Alec Stewart is the newest blogger on the cricket circuit – he now blogs on BBC’s Test Match Special blog.

You’re not going to believe this, but the focus of Stewart’s first post (up yesterday) is on wicket-keepers, more specifically, England’s new wicket-keeper Matt Prior. “No wicket-keeper since I retired has put up an unanswerable case to be selected for England through weight of performance in either county or international cricket,” begins the Gaffer unselfconsciously. And goes on to a truly searing insight: “Whoever was selected therefore had to be picked on potential rather than results.” Ah, now that explains why England don’t seem to prefer youth – they need results before they get on to the playing field.

After a bit of praise for Prior, Stewart makes a small confession: “At this stage I must say I’m slightly biased towards Prior as he is a client of the management company I am part of,” sounding appropriately sheepish as he says it. Of course, his views on Prior are “based purely on my cricketing knowledge and not from any commercial viewpoint.” Stewart does seem to know Prior really closely though. How else would he “inwardly… know he is very nervous as any debutant will be”?

But Stewart saves his best for the unfortunate Paul Nixon. “I think deep down he will know that at the age of 36 it’s probably not the right time to make a Test debut,” he opines sagely. Patience, Nicko, may be 37 or 38 is like the right age.

Not Vaughan’ted?

After a small matter of six months, Michael Vaughan has mustered the courage to speak up about the establishment – he says he was shut out by the old England regime during the last Ashes.

He is an interesting man, is Michael Vaughan. “I'm an Ashes-winning captain with a huge amount of knowledge on a lot of things and I wasn't used at all,” he said. I could almost see him turn red with embarrassment . Such modesty, Michael. Especially after having won the Ashes so many times, your hands must be aching holding that urn for so long. And why was it that when Australia lost to Vaughan’s team (he’d prefer that usage, I reckon), a Steve Waugh or a Mark Taylor never made such statements? There was no old regime versus new regime then, I suppose. Or they hadn't won the Ashes often enough?

So is this Vaughan’s way of ensuring a smooth comeback to the side when (perhaps the word should be “if”) he recovers from his injuries? (I suppose I’ll be accused of initiating conspiracy theories for raising this question.)

I don’t remember England having any stipulations about players speaking to the media, so why is it that Vaughan chose to wait for so long to make these deeply insightful confessions? Well, I shouldn’t quibble about that – most revelations seem to come with more of an eye on the future than the past – sample the comments on Greg Chappell of late. I wonder what’s in store for Tom Moody after he moves on from Sri Lanka. And we are waiting for that eulogy on John Buchanan, aren’t we? Warnie, is your pen poised?

Players and roles

Allan Lamb has a novel suggestion: make Andrew Flintoff a selector. No, Lamb is not suggesting that Freddie’s playing days are over. He is just suggesting that Flintoff should be involved in the management of the team. Else, Lamb warns ominously, “Freddie he could drift off and not be the player he was.”

This is an interesting point: keep a key player involved in the team beyond his or her functional role. This tends to happen a lot in corporate circles. Apart from your regular job, quite often you are also part of some “company-wide initiative” or other – it could be a six-sigma project, a training or competency development assignment, the entertainment committee, the food committee… It is assumed that such involvement ensures the individual’s commitment to the company, makes them feel part of the company and gets them to think beyond the narrow confines of their roles. And for a large part, it works.

Can such an approach work in cricket? I reckon it can, and not just for the senior cricketers. And not just as an antidote to recalcitrance, as Lamb has suggested in Freddie’s case. It can be considered from a development angle, from an all-round team-building perspective.

I remember a couple of seasons ago, in the Indian team an Anil Kumble was “nominated” a bowling “captain” and someone else (Kaif? Yuvraj?) a fielding “captain” in the practice sessions. A good idea, I wonder why it seems to have been jettisoned.

May be we can look at different roles for different players outside the playing area as well. Why do we expect the captain to be the best person in the team to handle the media and to analyze the pitch, to name just two roles?

A Service or a Profession?

I used to like Dinesh Mongia in his early days with the Indian ODI team. He had that tough, Aussie-like demeanour about him, his batting was crude but aggressive, and his bowling had a look of uselessness about it that made batsmen take one chance too many against him.

But that was long ago. Really long ago. When I saw him get out yesterday against Bangladesh, holing out to mid off, and in the first game, spooning a catch to midwicket, I wondered. Mongia just does not seem to put a price on his wicket. Sure, we don’t want him to become a grafter and just occupy the crease (and thus save his place, as a few others are alleged to have done). But surely, he has it in him to play a long innings? Unlike in the case of a Sehwag, who “just plays that way,” Mongia does not have a big enough image to be trapped in. So what accounts for his repeated failures?

As I replay the dismissals in my mind, what sticks is what happens after the dismissal. Mongia doesn’t seem to regret getting out. I wonder, is he not too keen to turn out in the national colours? No, I don’t mean to suggest that he is not patriotic. May be Mongia is happier just turning out for Leicestershire, where he has performed consistently well, where the pressures are much less, where the pulls and pushes of politics perhaps not as pronounced, and where he has a more stable place in the squad. He seems to be a regular, happy, journeyman, whose interests in the game are truly professional, in a personal sense. (As an aside, I watched a replay of a one-day game between Worcestershire and Nottinghamshire yesterday, and I can understand why Mongia may prefer the English county scene to turning out for India.) It’s a job for him, and he prefers an employer like Leicestershire rather than one like India.

For followers of English county cricket, this may not sound unusual – there are players legion who prefer the sanguine atmosphere of a game in the countryside to the hustle and bustle of international cricket. Why did a certain Steve Harmison retire from the international one day game at such a young age? May be the sub-text in Mal Loye’s interview recently also suggests something.

So is playing for the country important? Is cricket a profession or a service? (The days when it was just a game is way behind us, so let’s not even go in that direction.) Are you conscripted to play for your country if you take up the game? Can you choose to play only for a county and not for your country? As with any profession, don’t cricketers not have freedom of choice?

Are these actually considerations for the national selectors when they sit down to select the team to represent the country? Do they actually conduct interviews to find out whether players are really interested in playing for the country? Is it that difficult to figure out? In the corporate world, there are many ways in which the behavioral aspects of potential recruits are assessed. Is it worth thinking on the same lines for cricketers?