How I was selected for tomorrow’s T20 match

This morning I was looking to arrange a hike with a very good friend of mine for early on Saturday and I was desperate to go on the hike. Why was I so desperate to go hiking and what does hiking have to do with a blog on cricket, you might ask?

Well, the hike was an alternative to playing cricket (which plan unfortunately did not come to fruition). I was beat up about not playing on Saturday – for me, these days, the week consists of Saturdays and Sundays, i.e., cricket days, the rest of the days are just fillers – but I put on a brave face and didn’t let people know how disappointed I really was.

Even the hike was in doubt as my friend, let’s just call him Mr. T, had caught the flu virus. So, all in all, it was a cricket-less prospect over the weekend. The boys (very few of them are actually boys) can’t seem to gather heart for practice either.

About a couple of hours ago all that changed when I got a call from another friend who is arranging an office tournament. He asked me if I wanted to play. I don’t think he needed to ask. The answer was obvious but apparently he didn’t have any idea about how cricket mad I’ve become – or maybe he did.

The long and short of it is that I’ll be playing a T20 match tomorrow.

Once I was comfortable in the knowledge that I’d be playing, I reflected upon why I was asked to play. Could it be because I’m that good a player? Or could it be because my friend, out of loyalty to me, was providing me an opportunity to indulge my passion? Maybe a bit of both.

Then it really hit me – not literally – that I’d been picked mainly because I’m the chief custodian of our team’s cricket kit (bats, pads, boxes and gloves).

CRASH! Down came my ego, just like the mouse that ran up the clock.

The feeling lasted for a few minutes only, i.e., until I got a call from our team’s wicket keeper, who incidentally is also my younger brother, informing me that he too had been asked to play in the match. He had been picked because he had a wicket keeper’s kit!

On further reflection I decided that whatever the reason for my being picked was I was fine with it. All I really wanted to do was play. So, it turned out to be a win-win situation. I would get to play and they would get to use the kit. I’m happy and can easily live with it. Why this unburdened a conscience despite having cheated our team of its kit? I’ll explain.

It’s because I’m a ‘sifarishi’ ? That’s Urdu for one who uses his or her connections to get an unfair advantage or gain – the beneficiary of nepotism, so to speak. Ever since I was a little kid I’ve been the beneficiary of my connections. If you doubt what I’m saying I’ll tell you the story.

When I was 4 years old I was rejected for admission to kindergarten because I lacked a basic grasp of concepts, which were required for admission, and additionally had behaved in a sullen and unresponsive manner during my interview – the school mistress simply didn’t feel that I would fit in.

What turned their decision in my favour was the fact that a relative of mine intervened on my behalf to get me an admission. It was my older brother, all of 6 and half years old, who interceded on my behalf. It turned out that the school had a policy of giving priority, at the time of admission, to siblings of already enrolled students – thus my brother was instrumental in getting me enrolled simply by virtue of being a student.

I love Mrs. Shuja, the head mistress, for having given me the admission. I also love my brother for having had such a huge influence on my academic career for without his efforts I may have remained one of the many hundreds of millions of illiterate Pakistanis.

In the same way, I love my friend for having picked me and I also love our cricket kit because it got me picked. Otherwise I may have remained one of the billions of less privileged people of the world who won’t be playing cricket on Saturday.

Was last evening a repeat of the one before that?

What can I say? I was wrong to hope for this quick a revival in the Pakistan team's fortunes. If you want my analysis of the match why don't you just read last evening's post - it would save me the effort to do it all over again and would still be fairly consistent with what happened in the second T20 game.

All I have to say is that, as a friend of mine posted on last evening's post, Shahzaib Hasan sucks. As does Muhammad Hafeez and the way Shahid Afridi lost his wicket was just terrible. Imran Farhat and his bloated belly also do not deserve a place in the team, in my humble opinion.

Another thing I observed was that, as the commentators kept pointing out, the Pakistan batsmen simply rely on instinct in execution of their batting plans whereas focusing on percentage shots may yield better results. Its all very well to play tape-ball cricket shots though during a slog the bowler and his captain are pretty confident of their probability of picking up wickets. However, proper yet aggressive shots combined with sharp singles tend to create pressure on the bowling side as the bowler's chances of getting a wicket are reduced and the score still mounts. Thus creating a headache for the captain. What's generally called the 'horns of a dilemma'.

I'm afraid that the factors which made the Pakistan so formidable a side in the early phases of the Twenty-twenty revolution is now contributing to its downfall. As bowlers have worked out alternate strategies to deal with prodigious hitters so have batsmen worked out strategies for dealing with the slower balls, yorkers, slow short balls, etc., but the Pakistani solution to this is reverting to what they know best - tape-ball cricket basics.

Amazingly, although our batting is causing us headaches we have a bowling legend as coach and another world champion bowler as bowling coach but no batting coach. Why? Is the PCB unable to interest anyone in the job? Maybe its got something to do with the life expectancy of the incumbant? Still the team has travelled to the United Arab Emirates with 8 members as support staff - what's the harm in having a 9th?

And why the heck is Intikhab Alam willing to work (as manager) with those very charges of his whom he, in his capacity as coach, labeled "mentally retarded" after the Australian debacle? It must be the money associated with the job otherwise why would a sane man go back to working with individuals who don't know how to properly "dress" and "talk"?

What are we in for next? I fear we might even see Yawar Saeed making another appearance as manager. Why? Simply because like our players and the public the PCB also simply doesn't learn too well from past mistakes.

Cheerio.

Was a total of 119 runs enough?

There’s not much I can say about last evening’s performance by the Pakistan batsmen. People keep suggesting that keeping in mind our bowling attack a total of 119 may have been enough had Shahid Afridi bowled with his customary miserliness. It shows that people at home are so used to the Pakistan team’s batting collapses and super human bowling efforts that for them even a total of 119 runs was defendable. Well, not every day, my dear.

I don’t think its fair to blame Afridi’s going for 23 off just 2 overs for Pakistan’s loss. The credit for the loss goes to the South African bowlers and spineless batting by the Pakistani batsmen. The South African bowlers were able to restrict our batsmen to 6 runs or less in 12 of the 20 overs. The last 10 overs saw only 42 runs being scored for the loss of 6 wickets. Between the 11^th and the 17^th overs our batsmen could only manage 20 runs and lost 4 wickets in consecutive overs with one of them being a maiden. That has to be labeled as excellent bowling no matter how low an opinion we may have of our batsmen.

In fact, a total of even 119 runs was made possible because Imran Farhat came on strike after the first ball in the first over. Had Shahzaib Hassan, a right hander, been on strike the wide deliveries that Albie Morkel bowled would have landed in what Geoff Boycott is fond of calling the “corridor of uncertainty”. However, his line was all wrong for Farhat who stroked two of them to the fence and four of them were down the leg and were rightly called wides. 14 came off the first over and add to this the no balls bowled by the other brother, Morne Morkel, and you have an inflated total – what would you say to a total of less than a hundred?

Despite Shoaib Akhtar’s heroics early on and some tight bowling by Saeed Ajmal and Umar Gul, in South Africa’s chase, their batsmen were under no great pressure because the required total was so meager. Yes, had the Pakistani batsmen scored around 30 odd more runs then we might have had a cracker of a match.

So, forget match fixing and team controversies and acknowledge that the South African bowlers were able to get on top of our batsmen. I do believe that our team will bounce back strongly… if not in today’s match then in later matches.

Please let me have your comments either way.

Visual cues from the batsman – can they help?

I've been wondering about how subconsciously bowlers and captains pick up a lot of information from the batsman (which if they were asked to explain they might not be able to do). I've noticed that players to whom things come naturally often aren't very introspective or articulate when it comes to analysing those components of their game which make them a success. However, those players who aren't naturals at the game have to work hard and rely on their acquired skills to develop as cricketers. These guys sometimes make for more analytical and thoughtful players. Generally speaking, that is.

This is why most outstanding ex-players don't make such good coaches compared to the less talented ex-players. The ability to first of all understand one's performance (or lack thereof) and subsequently explain it to another in such a manner as to make it practical is one of the most essential qualities a coach must have. If you have that ability then the certificates and the experience come in extremely handy but the absence of that ability in the first place makes for uninspiring and dogmatic coaches.

So, what are the cues that a bowler picks up from the batsman against whom he's playing for the first time? I'm assuming that this blog is addressed towards club cricketers and, to my knowledge, club cricketers aren't blessed with enough resources to have access to video footage of their opponents based on which to make their plans and set their fields.

There are clues in everything we do – the non-verbal sub-text to our lives. It is estimated that around 90% of communication is non-verbal. So, if we can learn to read the signs properly we may easily gather what the sensory information that we are receiving tells us. In cricket this input is generally based on the visual and auditory senses. We'll focus only the visual cues.

What do bowlers see when they observe the batsman at the crease?

1. Some don't see anything;
2. Others don't consciously see anything; and
3. Only the best see what needs to be seen and then let it register in their conscious minds.

The first type may make good cricketers but will most probably be overshadowed; the second type are naturals at what they do and have a sort of gut instinct about what to do which can't be explained but generally tends to work more often than not; and the third category is composed of those who not only are naturals but also have the ability to understand and communicate what their subconscious is telling them about. These are best teachers, mentors and coaches.

I've tried to cover the bases from what I've learnt about cricket from my father (while he was imparting his experience to us), the experts commentating on matches and partially from my own experiences. These are not hard and fast rules but general guidelines only – however, I do believe, though we all may know these principles, most of us tend to lose sight of them when needed most.

So, what do YOU see?

The batsman's grip

It is said that ideally the batsman's hands should be close together in the middle of the handle with the top hand firmer and the bottom hand there for support only. The batsman's hands form two 'vees' between the index finger and the thumb of each hand. The bottom 'vee' is in line with the splice of the bat while the top hand opens out towards the outer edge of the bat. Supposedly, this allows for a straighter/proper downswing and increases the probability of playing the ball with the full face of the bat.

However, there have been many notable exceptions to this generally held rule. Don Bradman had his top hand turned back also in line with the splice of the bat, Javed Miandad held his hands apart on the handle, Sachin Tendulkar holds the bat low on the handle, while Adam Gilchrist held the bat with his hands high on the handle and yet all of them are batting legends.

So, there's no one way to hold the bat but the way someone holds a bat tells us a lot about them.

If the batsman holds the bat closer to the bottom of the handle then the following may be inferred:

• Gives him more control over the ball;
• Gives him more power at the point of impact;
• Doesn't require a very high back lift;
• May prefer playing off the back foot;
• May prefer playing horizontal bat shots; and
• The batsman's reach is reduced thus possibly making it difficult to drive the ball.

If the batsman holds the bat higher on the handle the following may be inferred:

• The batsman's reach is increased;
• May prefer to play off the front foot because of the greater reach;
• May find that short pitched bowling causes some discomfort;
• Control over the ball may be reduced; and
• Requires a higher back lift to generate power at the point of impact.

If you see a batsman with a gap between the hands on the handle then his hands may not move together thus possibly sacrificing some fluency, however, this may result in added flexibility to nudge and work the ball around corners.

It would be appropriate to mention that these are general guidelines and there are exceptions to every rule. Don Bradman held the bat low on the handle, had his top had turned back and it is also said that he did not keep his hands close together either. He was a phenomenon. He mentions in his book 'the Art of Cricket' that because his top hand was turned backwards, therefore, his bat presented a slightly closed face. This resulted in him having some restriction when playing in the arc between mid-off and point, however, his leg side shots were always along the carpet.

So, the bowler still has to work out the pros and cons of bowling to a batsman's perceived technical disadvantages.

The batsman's stance

In case the batsman stands with his feet too close together the following may be inferred:

• Such batsmen are generally good back foot players; but
• They may sacrifice some balance.

Conversely, a batsman with his feet wide apart may have the following traits:

• Such batsmen tend to be stronger off the front foot; but
• They may lack adequate foot movement.

In case a batsman has too side-on a stance he may have some problems with sharply incoming deliveries but will generally fare better against away going deliveries as long as he maintains adequate awareness of where the off stump is.

Conversely, a batsman with a chest on stance may face more problems with the away moving ball but this stance makes it slightly easier to play the incoming deliveries (especially from the left armers) as long as the batsman does not lean over too much.

If the batsman leans over too much, i.e., his toes and head are not aligned properly, then the sharply incoming delivery can be a potential wicket taker (as such batsmen may be unsure of where their off stump is) and having a short mid wicket in catching position may be advisable (as his onside ground shots may fly uppishly). However, be warned that batsmen who tend to fall over are generally good onside players and prefer scoring runs on the leg side.

The batsman's guard

Batsmen who take the leg stump guard generally prefer to play on the off side and make room by staying alongside the line, whereas batsmen who take the middle stump guard tend to be good on the leg side and love to whip it through the onside.

The batsman's back lift

The main features to be observed here are the height of the back lift and the arc of the bat as it comes down to meet the ball.

First we discuss the height of the back lift.

• If the batsman has a high back lift he may find it hard to adapt to changes of pace as a high back lift requires earlier commitment to the shot; and it is possible that he may be late in bringing the back down to keep out the yorkers.
• A batsman with a low back lift though being adept at keeping out the yorkers may struggle if the ball has no pace on it as such a batsman relies on the bowler's pace to hit the ball forcefully.

In case you observe a wider back lift the following are reasonable inferences:

• Such batsmen need to make a circular sweep of the bat to get it down straight in line with the ball's flight;
• If this is not so then the bowler would be well advised to try the in-dipping delivery to check the gap between the bat and pad; but
• Such players tend to be extremely good at playing the cut, pull and hook shot.

Most batsmen coached in the orthodox art of batting reveal a very straight back lift, a la Graham Gooch, Chris Broad, etc. This allows the bat to move down straight in line with the ball's trajectory. But this has the disadvantage that the cross batted shots like cuts, pulls and hooks may be compromised. This is because, if you observe carefully, all cross batted shots begin with a back lift wide of the stumps. It's virtually impossible to play a decent cross batted shot with a bat taken straight back. Thus a batsman with a very straight back lift will have to instantly decide to switch to a wider back lift for the short and/or wide balls if he wants to play the cut, pull or hook. Otherwise when playing cuts he will be merely fending at the ball with an angled bat. Slip catching practice.

I hope the above discussion may be as interesting for my readers as it has been for me. If you have any comments, arguments, additions, input and/or criticism please feel free to comment. I look forward to reading your thoughts on the subject.

Where is our fielding headed?

The recently concluded Faysal Bank T20 Cup received a lot of attention and created a lot of hype in the media. A new sponsor for the format has been found auguring well for the domestic circuit. The Pakistan Cricket Board (PCB) has used the success of this tournament to make various claims including the viability of playing international cricket in Pakistan.

With Pakistan being one of the most successful T20 sides in the world to date it is felt that homegrown talent first makes its mark on the domestic scene through performances in this competition. Already most club cricket has gravitated to the T20 format and amateurs no longer look at the longer formats of limited overs cricket with much favour.

It’s true that the 20 over format is exciting and provides instant gratification. It’s replete with big hitting, direct throws, diving tackles on the ball, electric running between the wickets, lots of wickets falling and edge-of-the-seat finishes. All in all, it’s a young man’s game.

Surprisingly, the award for the best fielder of the tournament has been given to Muhammad Yousuf. The bearded 36 year old was never known as an outstanding fielder. It was always his performances with the bat which have led to his being acknowledged as one of the most elegant and stylish batsmen ever produced by Pakistan. In 90 tests he averages 52.29 runs per innings and has scored 7,530 runs at a strike of 52.39. His 24 centuries and 33 fifties and the fact that he has bettered Sir Vivian Richards’ world record aggregate in a calendar year amply prove his mettle as a batsman.

My question is regarding the criterion for the award of the best fielder of the tournament and whether it shows something about perceived importance of fielding in Pakistan cricket?

If the basis for this award was simply the number of catches held then it is too simplistic a criterion. Is just the number of catches held a well-defined measure? How would you rate a fielder standing at point who stops 20-30 runs, affects a run out or two (and if not a run out at least creates enough doubt in the batsman’s mind about running when the ball is hit in his direction) and manages to score 20-30 runs too?

On their 1992-93 tour to South Africa, led by Mohammad Azharuddin, the Indians simply eliminated the square cut from their repertoire as the fielder at point, one Jonty Rhodes, made it too risky and unproductive a shot to play. Imagine the influence that one outstanding fielder had on the game and the immediate pressure on the batsmen to score elsewhere. On the bouncy and quick South African wickets the square cut is a staple shot for scoring in the area behind point – eliminating it means taking away a huge advantage.

 If in case Yousuf was the best fielder then it is a reflection of the fact that in Pakistan we do not emphasise the importance of fielding to the side and thus do not encourage our players to improve in this area.

A case in point is the performance of the Pakistan team, in the fielding department, especially during the Test series played since their triumph in the 2009 Twenty20 World Cup in England. Multiple catches have been dropped in almost all Tests and matches have been gifted to the opponents. Where catches haven’t been dropped Pakistan has beaten Australia and England in England this last summer.

Where are the youngsters? Why aren’t they the best fielders in our domestic game? Is the development of our young and upcoming cricketers focused only on building up of batting and bowling skills? What does it take to produce fielders comparable with Jonty Rhodes, Ricky Ponting and Herschelle Gibbs?

Please comment and let me have your opinions on this.

Imran Khan – leading from the front

As a child my hero was none other than the legendary Imran Khan… and he still is. He had everything; a great run up, blinding speed and disorienting movement plus he was dashing, too.

I remember a poster I used to have of Imran Khan, from way back in the late seventies, in a white kit, open at the neck, with his trademark baggy Pakistan team peak cap and holding his bat under one arm. He seemed to be leaning against a wall with that shy and charming smile… I wanted to be just like him. My mother tells me that I used to ask people if they thought I looked like him.

As a batsman he was rock solid and was devastating when the mood took him or the situation demanded it. Some of Pakistan’s best performances were recorded when he was captain even with a weak team boasting only a few stars in the lineup - especially compared to the halcyon days of the seventies when a Pakistan team was almost exclusively a collection of stars. He always led from the front. I don’t remember many instances when Imran or Javed Miandad failed to rise to the occasion.

He was a super star in the true sense of the word. Not like the media-hyped stars of today but one who commanded the media and the world to acknowledge his greatness.

His beginnings in Test cricket were entirely forgettable but where his true greatness lay was as a thinking cricketer who reinvented himself as a bowler and in later years as a batsman of note too.

In the process he showed that he was a truly inspiring leader of men and by sheer will, performance and hard work managed to redefine the Pakistan team as well. Gone were the days of the seventies when despite being a star studded side Pakistan would easily capitulate when the pressure got too much – similar to the Indian team of a later period. With a team much weaker, on paper, than that of the seventies he managed to achieve what they had failed to even dream of.

In his first series as captain, in the summer of 1982 in England, Pakistan managed to win its first Test on English soil after a wait of 28 years since its first such victory. A first ever Test series win in India in 1986/87 – just as daunting a task as it still is – was followed by Pakistan winning its first ever Test series in England in 1987.

On either side of these successes, he led Pakistan in two drawn Test series against the mighty West Indians of the 80s – one at home and the other away. In an era when the West Indians were sweeping away all resistance, the Pakistani team under Imran’s leadership and coupled with Javed Miandad’s strategic and tactical nous was not only able to withstand the barrage but also dish it out. These were truly no-holds-barred battles between some of the greatest names in Test cricket.

You may recall that England had earlier been drubbed 5-0 not just once but twice. The 1983 World Champions – India – who managed to snatch the title from the West Indians were drubbed 3-0 in India. Like against the Borg in the Star Trek franchise, it appeared that resistance was futile against the West Indians too, but not so for Imran. That was the true test of his mettle.

The way Imran led his tigers in the 1992 World Cup and the way fate conspired to give him a befitting send-off from the stage of cricket is known to all of us and shows that what man wills, man can achieve – at least he could – and, therefore, he is an inspiration to a whole generation of Pakistanis.

Towards the end of his playing days Imran was also involved in the establishment of the Shaukat Khanum Memorial Cancer Hospital – an unmatched endeavour – where he managed to motivate a whole nation to pool resources to fight this terrible disease.

Having waxed lyrical about my hero without having done an ounce of justice to the man, I recount below his career statistics but bear in mind that they tell only part of the story:

Tests - Batting and fielding averages
Mat	Inns	NO	Runs	HS	Ave	100	50	6s	Ct	St
88	126	25	3807	136	37.69	6	18	55	28	0

Tests - Bowling averages
Mat	Inns	Balls	Runs	Wkts	BBI	BBM	Ave	Econ	SR	4w	5w	10
88	142	19458	8258	362	8/58	14/116	22.81	2.54	53.7	17	23	6

For any bowler, an average to die for, similarly as an all-rounder his record was impeachable. As an all-rounder, Imran’s contemporaries included Sir Ian Botham, the tireless Kapil Dev, and Sir Richard Hadlee. It is recorded fact that Imran’s batting and bowling averages were better than any of them. Though he may not have scored more runs than Sir Ian or taken more wickets than Sir Richard or played as long as Kapil Dev, Imran, at least to me, remains the best all-rounder there ever was – maybe barring Sir Garfield Sobers.

Do I hear a few of you say that averages don’t tell the whole story?

Indeed they don’t. Let’s see what we have.

Ever since the ‘Man of the Series’ awards have been dished out, Imran is the second most awarded player in Test cricket – second only to the magician Muttiah Muralitharan. But Murali managed 11 such awards from a total of 61 Test series that he played. Imran on the other hand won 8 awards in only 28 series that he played over his career. After Imran is ranked Sir Richard Hadlee with 8 awards from 33 series that he played. This clearly shows that Imran was a player who dominated not just a match or two but whole series.

Similarly, a perusal of the top 41 best bowling performances by a captain, listed by Cricinfo.com, reveals Imran Khan featuring on 8 occasions - by far the best. On the other hand, in the 75 best bowling performances by a captain of a losing side, again listed by Cricinfo.com, Imran only features once. This shows the true force of his personality. Except for once, whenever Imran performed well with the ball, Pakistan never lost a game. That’s how influential Imran really was.

But that’s not all. Comparing his overall batting performances, listed above, with his performance as captain, i.e., 1982 onwards, we see a sea change. Imran captained Pakistan in 51 Tests, and during that period he scored 2,477 runs at an average of 51.60 per innings with 5 hundreds and 15 fifties (a record any batsman would die for). Compare it to the pre-captaincy period where he only had 1,330 runs in 37 Tests at an average of 25.09 with only 1 century and 3 fifties. Remember he only had a total of 6 centuries and 18 fifties at an overall average of 37.69. As a batsman he led the team from the front as he liked to say.

And not just as a batsman, as a bowler, Imran picked up 204 wickets at only 19.91 runs per wicket – his pre-captaincy bowling average was 26.56 and please keep in mind that towards the end he was only a shade of the bowler he earlier was. His strike rate as captain was 48.70, lower than his pre-captaincy strike rate of 60.27, and even his economy rate was 2.45 compared to his pre-captaincy economy rate of 2.64 runs per over.

Imran was able to improve his performances in all areas of the game after he became captain of Pakistan and that is why he is rated so highly not only as a bowler or an all-rounder but as a true leader of men.

Imran Khan was and still is the true Pakistani hero simply because the media, the politicians and the players may lie but the numbers never do.

Hail the great Khan!

Re: Don Bradman

This is with reference to my earlier blog regarding Sir Donald Bradman and his batting technique. I was browsing blogs the other day and came across a very interesting blog discussing similar concepts. So, I decided to provide my readers (if there are any out there) with a link to it. Please visit the link and post any comments you may have.

Additionally, the above-referred blog had a link to a research article titled "Uncovering the Secrets of The Don: Bradman Reassessed" published in the summer 2005 edition of the Sport Health journal. This article discusses the Don's technique and issues allied with development of sports skills in cricket along scientific lines and the use of bowling machines as well.

I would recommend it to all who may be interested in working out various options available. Happy reading.

The day Chuckie simply refused to get out!

Hello

On great demand from key members of the team I’ll be sharing with you guys the events of a match that our team played in April, of this year, where we weren’t totally outclassed by our opponents.

That was our first match together as a team and even we had no idea of each other’s capabilities. As I’ve mentioned in an earlier blog our team is made up of family, friends, colleagues and acquaintances – so basically it’s an alliance of the willing.

That day we were totally frustrated by a batsman who simply refused to allow the bowlers to get him out even if it meant not scoring. It was a display of the deadest of dead bats and zero back lift. Covering the stumps he would block half volleys and full tosses just as readily as balls pitched just short of a length. Luck also aided him. He went in to open the innings and, but for a brief period when he was called out by his captain and then returned, remained unbeaten at the end of the allotted 30 overs.

I’m sure some of you must be wondering why such a batsman managed to frustrate our team when obviously if the opponents aren’t scoring you’re basically happy with the state of the game? How could uttering the name of one person cause 11 grown men to cringe and look around them for refuge?

The reason is simple. He was OUR TEAM'S opening bat!

He was in the team because we were one man short. So, without being overly grateful, I have to admit that without his presence we wouldn't have been playing that day.

To cut a long story short, Chuckie, the batting specialist, went in to open our innings after we had won the toss and decided to bat on what looked to be a flat and insipid wicket. It was soon apparent that he was in no mood to score and placed a high premium on his wicket. The score just wouldn't pick up because he was hogging most of the strike and the team was getting jittery.

So, it turned out was his opening partner. In sheer frustration he threw away his wicket just to try and get the scoreboard moving. Soon thereafter another wicket fell simply because the new batsman felt it was his duty to pick up the scoring rate. He simply didn't give himself enough time to settle in.

As I was striding in to bat our captain advised me to take my time settling in and to just relax. I agreed that it would be the best way to go about it. However, both of us had failed to realise what a calming influence our friend Chuckie was able to exert on his partner in the middle.

The second wicket had fallen off the first ball of the over and I was on strike. I decided to show the full face of the bat to the first few balls I faced and found that I was middling the ball well and striking it with power. Having blocked the first three balls I faced, I dabbed the next ball towards point, where the fielder was standing deep enough for us to pick up a single, called for a run and started off when to my surprise I saw Chuckie rooted to the crease with his palm raised like a traffic policeman. I promptly returned to my end and all was well.

Next over I got an opportunity to observe up close that awe inspiring batting style which would come to populate my dreams, of the darker variety, for quite some time. Chuckie played without any back lift and obviously without any follow through either. What was more he never moved backward or forward beyond the crease either and the only movement which I could discern was him moving across to block sight of the stumps.

Pretty soon he managed to block all balls but one in the over and I got a sneaking suspicion that the opposition was deliberately bowling to him outside his stumps so as to ensure that he didn't get out bowled unintentionally. Off the last ball he called for a single and we crossed over.

Next over was a repeat of the first and off the last ball Chuckie was caught plumb in front of the stumps and there was a loud shout for leg before but only from the bowler, which the umpire turned down. The ball was trickling towards the fielder at point who was charging in to field. Seeing as there was no run there I turned my back on Chuckie (forgetting totally to say no to him) and glared at the umpire - maybe by denying the umpire a glimpse of the stumps Chuckie might've created some doubt in the umpire's mind. Too late I realised that Chuckie was charging down the track bent on retaining the strike. I called to him to turn back - I wasn't about to throw away my wicket to save him. He managed to get back into his crease just in time.

And then he walked up to me and very politely and patronisingly advised me to be attentive. I apologised and said I would do so in future. I had learnt that he was hell bent on batting as much as possible and ensuring that he did not get out even if it meant that we lost the game.

Out went my composure and I started trying to hit the ball past the infield in search of fours and doubles so that I could keep the strike and keep the score ticking along. I was striking the ball hard but straight to the fielders because I simply wasn't settled in propoerly. Maybe I should've concentrated on taking singles but knowing that a single meant 3 or 4 dot balls and loss of strike in the next over I threw logic and prudence to the wind. However, it was soon confirmed that you can't really force the pace of the game unless you are settled in and I clearly wasn't. Having hit a 4 and run two doubles in quick succession I was extremely short of breath and was soon bowled off a straight low delivery.

After that I simply saw a procession of batsmen going in confidently trying to pick up the pace of the game and returning dejectedly after having been dismissed. Through it all Chuckie in his broad brimmed hat was having a field day blocking every ball that he faced except when he wanted to retain strike.

Frustrated, our captain decided to call him in and replace him so that we could manage more runs in the last 5 overs but the die was cast and it was too late for such measures. Soon with only 2 overs to go we were down to the last pair and Chuckie strode purposefully back in to take his place. Mercifully we didn't get bowled out but only managed to score 168 for 9 off our allotted 30 overs.

Now for the clincher. Can you guess how many runs he managed to score? 30 is all he scored in slightly more than half the total balls bowled, i.e., at least 90 balls faced. And what's more he didn't get out and at the end of our innings he strode out proudly. Like a peacock...

We lost by 8 wickets after a disatsrous first over from myself where I ended up bowling 13 deliveries and must've conceded more than 19 runs at least. Unfortunately, I can't say that this was also somehow due to Chuckie's presence on the field but that was all me.

Don Bradman - why hasn't there been anyone like him since?

Hello.

I have always been extremely fascinated by the superiority of Sir Donald Bradman's record compared to all the other cricketers ever since the game, as we know it, has been played. How can one man outdistance all others so completely? Its simply mind boggling.

I'm pretty sure many of you out there also might have wondered about the Don's performances. The orthodox view has always been that he was supremely gifted in terms of being blessed with a sharp eye, quick feet, lightning reflexes and iron will. Maybe...

In pursuit of my fixation with the Don I've read a bit about him and some facts, which challenge the orthodox view point, have really surprised me.

For example, the Don enlisted in the Royal Australian Air Force upon outbreak of the Second World War. However, what many don't know is that he was invalided out of the air force within a year and transferred to the army. In fact, a medical test of his eyesight revealed that it was below average. Subsequently, he suffered from fibrositis (a muscular ailment) and his doctor advised him not to play cricket after the war had ended.

What's truly amazing is that after the war, between November 1946 and August 1948, in 15 Test matches that the Don played (10 against England and 5 against India) despite not being very fit and having poorish eyesight he still managed to score 1,903 runs including 8 centuries and 5 fifties. In fact he even managed 2 scores of over 200 during that period. He averaged 97.14 against England in 1946/47; 178.75 against India in 1947/48; and 72.51 against England in 1948.

Considering the not so perfect physical shape that he was in towards the end of his career it is extremely interesting to note that he was still performing on a scale much higher than what modern day greats manage to achieve even at their peak.

Let's also not forget that over the last 3-4 decades cricket has been played on covered pitches whereas in the Don's time cricket was played on uncovered pitches - leading to much variation in pitch behaviour depending upon the weather conditions. A sticky wicket is no longer a hazard that the batsman has to contend with simply because these have become extinct but imagine the ball flying and hissing off a wet pitch and having to negotiate those spells of play. Or, if possible, imagine batting without a helmet against a Shoaib Akhtar or a Brett Lee with no restrictions on the number and placement of fielders on the leg side.

So, what set the Don apart? Maybe all the attributes that the orthodox pundits claim but I still feel there has to be something else. There have been many supremely gifted cricketers over the years who were blessed with a sharp eye, quick feet, lightning reflexes and iron will but none even threatened to achieve what the Don actually did achieve.

In this regard, I was lucky enough to be able to come across a book titled, Bradman Revisited: The Legacy of  Sir Donald Bradman by A.L. Shillinglaw. Mr. Shillinglaw posits that the Don had a unique continuous rotary batting technique which enabled him to control a fast moving ball and do it in a manner that was repeatable over time thus enabling him to post huge totals without overburdening his physique because the movement of the ball elicited an instinctive and almost automatic reaction. Thus, for the Don, concentration became natural and automatic rather than being forced and tiring. The great Greg Chappell refers to this forced and tiring concentration as "fierce focus".

The Don's prolific run scoring and penchant for huge scores is highlighted by the 12 double centuries that he scored in Test cricket - compare him to the little maestro Sachin Tendulkar (world record number of centuries in Tests and ODIs) who has only 5 double centuries to his name despite having played more than twice the Tests that the Don ever played.

Having read Mr. Shillinglaw's book at least twice, from cover to cover, I feel that he may be onto something. Mr. Shillinglaw attributes the development of the Don's batting style to his game of playing with a golf ball and cricket stump when he was a child. He would throw the ball at a brick stand (on which stood a large metal water tank) and play it on the rebound and it is said that he could manage to do it repeatedly without allowing the ball to go out of play. This childhood game supposedly developed his hand-eye-feet coordination and the rest as they say is history.

I would encourage anyone who is interested in the details to purchase the book. The legendary coach Bob Woolmer's book on cricket which was published after his tragic and untimely death also dedicates a whole section to Mr. Shillinglaw's work and research. It may not be very easy reading but he definitely drives home his argument and I believe he may have hit the nail on the head.

Adios amigos.