Wisdom is knowing how little we know

Hello and welcome back to my blog

The New Zealand cricket summer has come to a thoughtful, if not overly successful, end as the season that began with victory in Hobart concluded with a string of losses to South Africa only tempered by a fine rear-guard innings by Kane Williamson in Wellington. I felt the Black Caps gained a fair measure of themselves against one of the finest sides in the world and at times gave them a real scare. Elsewhere there was also Australia crushing the spirit of a billion people by wiping India 4-0 only to have it rebirth (slightly) with Tendulkar's 100th international century. There was also my Northern Knights winning the 4-day competition as well as this catch against them in the HRV 2020.

I have made my opinions on this pretty clear throughout the summer and nothing has really surprised anyone outside expectations, thus I thought I would go into something a little more personal in the cricket arena; namely my experiences of club cricket this season. For anyone who doesn't know, I have been privileged enough to help out a local cricket club in Wellington this season and looking back, there is nothing I would have rather spent my spare time doing. Helping the club enhanced my appreciation and understanding of the sport at a very basic but broad level, I was able to observe the kinds of things one cannot learn from a scorecard or a Channel 9 VB Tri-series match. I always knew that this was an area of weakness in my knowledge of the sport, quite predictable and acceptable for somebody who cannot actually even attempt to play the sport they love, yet somehow I had resigned myself to letting it go - so for providing me with such an opportunity I want to sincerely thank Victoria University of Wellington Cricket Club (VUWCC).

While performing various duties for the senior teams I gained new insights into areas of cricket that I had largely ignored or been oblivious/uncaring to before. First and foremost would be the mentality and psychology of the batsman about to bat and the sequel when they are dismissed, the intimacy of the sideline and changing shed that provides a microscope into what TV cameras can barely hint at. You can see it in the eyes of a player when you sit next to a man sitting on a pair (or five ducks, you know who you are) and the emotion when that fear is realised or conquered, the kind that a crowd can miss but is only too apparent to the fellow holding out the drink bottle (or just getting out of their way). Travelling from fine-leg to deep-third man to converse with the fast bowlers is a study in the opinion of 1/11th of the team that is experiencing the game first hand. It is quite an amusement to listen to the verbal-self-bashing at the end of one over become the bright elation at the end of the next (after the fall of a wicket) as the true, somewhat harsh, even masochistic nature of the sport is revealed (not meant as a negative necessarily - although one bowler I have in mind wouldn't have looked out of place hitting himself with a cat-of-nine-tails, take that image to whatever extreme you wish).

The taking of a wicket took on new meaning for me as for once I was truly invested in it, the palpable yearning for it to fall and the celebration upon that defeat of the opposition batsman. Being part of it all magnifies every aspect about the taking of a wicket, including the fall of one of your own. Although I have seen many Black Caps players lose their stumps (many, many, many Black Caps players), the castling of a player trying to keep his place in the side is more saddening, the suicide of a player that hooks to deep-fine-leg is more frustrating and the laziness of a slog that goes only up in the air is that much more annoying; basically the whole thing is more personal.

Then you have the wider implications of one ball that takes a wicket. The station of a player can depend on it, a good spell of bowling can save you from the axe and the construction of a long innings cement you in the team. Again, I absorbed the feeling of truly caring about such things because I knew the people involved, discussed it with them over a pint in the evenings (and sometimes in the wee hours of the morning) and keep my tongue behind my teeth when a player did fail.

Then there were the trainings each week which were a clinic in cricket education by themselves. I won't go over every detail here least I find myself writing a novel and you, my humble reader, slip into a coma, but I want to illustrate one example that appears foremost in my mind when it comes to cricket nets. Throw-downs is a term that conveyed an image of laziness, a sense of lack-of-desire and a feeling of the pathetic. I make no bones about the fact that in 2005 when Stephen Fleming was reported as facing nothing but cricket balls lobbed to him during a training session, I jumped on the bandwagon that denounced this as all of the aforementioned. Surely you cannot gain form against quality fast bowling with such simple rubbish? What I failed to understand then but fully appreciate now is that the throw-down is nothing about what the bowler is doing but what the batsman is doing. It is about honing the basic defensive and attacking principles that a top-order player builds his whole game on, to the point where they are as second nature to them as drawing breath. How can you even begin to consider the man running in at you if you're losing sleep (and energy) over where your own feet are going, where your limbs are moving? This season I witnessed a player work on his technique in this way that he overcame an injury and subsequent form/technical slump to top-score (90) in a winning cause. I observed another ground out several gutsy innings to give some dignity to his side's batting cards.

I know that much of this sounds like old hat to you players, and in theory it does to me as well but to witness it in action is to gain a new understanding of it all. To say that it provides the practical to the theory is perhaps simplistic but I think you know what I mean.

I discovered something new about myself and my interest in cricket this season too. People who know me fairly well, understand or at least can make educated guesses at the frustration I feel at forever being confined to the sidelines of sports, through no fault of my own. I freely admit that to spend as much time on the sideline as I did this summer was often a double edged sword: on the one hand I experienced all that I have explained in this piece already but on the other it served as a constant reminder of my own limitations. The joyless reality that can hit home in this situation is only matched for its cruelty by the instances of a player not realising that reality, and having their expectations die when the visually obvious goes over my head (often literally). This occurs when a player tries to point out a ball in the distance or requests my involvement in a friendly game of football; it's a very specific area of my reality where upon the sport offers a level of equality one moment but dashes it just as quickly the next - it's neither person's fault but it is still true. One never really gets used to this kind of undeserved-punishment and it is hard on the innocent player as well who has to drop their face in embarrassment and pity. It is the tease that suckers us both

As depressing as I am sure that reads, this summer presented the obvious and welcome anesthesia which is the realisation that my love of the sport is greater than this. My obsession with the battle between bat and ball, even if largely viewed from afar, is more rewarding than the pain of not playing. The acceptance offered by the players which allows the same feeling of belonging and gratitude. That is what allowed me to spend hours wrangling up players for the reserves team, or messaging last-minute fill-ins while I attended a wedding. People often seemed surprised at the lengths I would go to to attend club functions and trainings week in and week out. Their bemused questions were matched only by my surprise that they need ask me why I was keen to help so much. I feel as if I'M the one in debt to the club, not the other way around, for the feeling of fellowship as well as the improvement to my understanding of the sport. To sum up what I mean I retell my short speech from the prize-giving night, after reading everything above you may realise I was in no way kidding:

'...while I eventually felt like I had responsibilities everywhere, I still feel as if I owe something to you guys for you allowed me to realise that it is only after grazing on the slopes of ones own ignorance that one can see how far he has to climb...' or to condense - simply read the title of this post.

Finally, as if in credits to the above melodramatic claptrap, I note a few individual efforts from the club:

• Hamish Evans (top wicket taker and budding all-rounder)
• James Boyle (top runscorer and captain of the top side)
• Jonathan Dol (highest individual score in the top side)
• Duke Pomare (lone century maker in the senior squad)
• Simon Thomas (trusted a blind imbecile to manage the teams)
• Matthew Sadd and Josh Seton (for thinking that that blind masochistic imbecile might like the job)

I salute and thank you and the others I did not have room to name, for an absorbing and rewarding summer

Well that's it from here and I hope you join me again

It's good bye for now

A sad and sadly-useful distraction, looking back at the day when a Black Cap captain faced more than just cricket

Hello and welcome back to my blog

After the Black Caps' sigh-inducing effort in Hamilton, cricket fans across the country could be forgiven for seeking a distraction from the current tour - which at this point feels frustrating, fortune-reversing and fated for failure. Many sports fans turned to Rugby as the Otago-based Super team continues to hold the high ground (if only just) in matches against all-comers, others return to the politics of the day as the resignation of a minister is apparently enough to fill the front page. My mental wanderings traversed both extremes and more, in an attempt to ignore the impossible task of explaining away another batting collapse by my team (although in the back of my mind the words 'better fast bowling attack' spring to mind). The moment when I found the distraction that I craved and needed took place while reading 'Stephen Fleming: Balance of Power' (author Richard Boock, 2004). I feel both enlightened and guilty for finding distraction in this way because the Karachi bombing outside the team hotel in 2002 (which killed 14 people) is nothing to take trivial distraction from, but in my best defence I confess that the following jumped out at me in a way I have seldom experienced and I felt it only right to share this with you, my humble readers.

For those who do not remember, the Black Caps tour of Pakistan was ended prematurely after the Karachi bombing and Stephen Fleming appeared on television as an emotional wreck, easy to see and too easy to understand perhaps, but the book I mention above includes two letters that give this dramatic time greater context and gravitas. Fleming received both letters shortly after returning to New Zealand when the team was rushed out of Pakistan for fears over safety.

This is from a Pakistani cricket fan who had travelled to the hotel in question with his brother to get an autograph:

"...Dear Sir

Stephin Fellming

how are you I am fine here and hope you will be happy. Sir My Name SARWAR MALIK and ASAD MAIK was my elder brother who was very much fan you. Our accommodation is at Lahore and we all peoples went to Stadium, for see his Match and meet with you and we regret for his postpone the Match tour of Pakistan. Sir ASAD MALIK my brother went to Karachi for receiving you autograph and died in front of SHERATON HOTEL due to Bomb Blast and cut the Arms from the body and was in great pain and crying loudly, sir he was my elder brother and great fan of you and died on the sport, sir he was the only earning person of our house. Sir, you feel my brother's pain and you also weep at the the time of interview in press conference and after reading the statement in the News paper we feel that you are not only good player but also a great person too, because you have heart to feel the pain of others so. My old mother feel the need to send for thanks letter And I am weeping due to death of my brother, sir, now when I am writing you the letter I am too weeping, and sir I am again thanks to you for remembering my brother's demise.

With great thanks,

Yours sincerely

Sarwar Malik"

Not everyone viewed the team's exit of the country and safe return to New Zealand with as much relief as others, this from a New Zealander with strong feelings on the subject:

"Dear Steven (sic) and your men,

I appreciate you had a shock. However you are coming across to many of us as a wimp and you are the captain!

Come on, be a man. New Zealand had many, many men who went through horrific experiences during all of the wars that we have been involved in and they did not come home and wimp or grizzle about any of it.

I had an uncle who dug a hole in the sand every night for four years. That was in the Dessert (sic). No one ever heard him talk about his trials. He went on to become very successful in his life and still lives today.

What do you think he thinks of you lot?

Many of us have shocks and are not in the protected arena that you men are

Become mature and do well

I wish you well

Sincerely etc"

Well as to the second letter, the idea that the individual could write such a thing but end it with '...I wish you well..' says all that need be said about that individual in my opinion. However, just in case any of you feel fellowship with that individual, I would ask you a couple questions: don't you think our forefathers suffered and died in those wars so that we might live to enjoy the life of an international sportsman? To have the freedom to pursue such an end in the peace and security required to create such opportunity? If you disagree then answer me this instead - where exactly in the job description of NZ Cricket Captain does it mention the required skill of fighting in battle or coping with terrorism while on tour? A soldier has the trip, in boat or plane to the battlefield to at least ponder such things and prepare his/her courage, he/she did not see a dozen fellow human beings ripped apart next door to their house without warning or reason.

But I digress, what really struck a blow to my mind was the idea of receiving such letters addressed on both the envelope and in the words themselves, to you personally. I truly struggled with remorse at the first and anger at the second only to realise that I had the luxury of 'coping' with such differing emotions and their sources, in the comfort of an office lunch room with no greater stress than a recent Test Match loss. Fleming had to cope with such sadness and such vitriol on the back of actually seeing the images referred to, of experiencing the hell that was hinted at and surviving the scenes of carnage. The fact that he portrayed a face of both strength and humanity to the entire ordeal fills me with pride for my former captain and I can only hope that the likes of Ross Taylor can aspire to such heights during his tenure and not be destroyed by a test loss here and there.

I still feel guilty for exploiting such a thing for distraction but I cannot deny the impact those letters had on my understanding of Stephen Fleming and of ones priorities in life.

Well that's it from here and I hope you join me again

It's good bye for now

Some bad opportunism (which is not a good thing at the best of times)

Hell0 and welcome back to my blog

As my most avid readers have probably noticed, I have been scarce at my writing desk of late which I find regrettable, but amongst securing employment and many duties for the cricket club that I assist, summoning the will power to put thought to paper on cricket has been difficult. However I am back this week and hope to create momentum leading into the end of the season (although with Australia in the West Indies shortly (with Watson batting 3 in tests if you can believe it without vomiting a little) and England vs South Africa in the winter, there will still be plenty to write about). Below I take a look at Rahul Dravid's career and use it to explain why Sehwag cannot (or at least should not) be as highly regarded, something I have wanted to do for some time. Dravid once played very well in Hamilton so just call me opportunistic. What's worse is that I will also use this vague association to catch up on news from recent weeks. My apologies

I would like to start this week by expressing a couple of thoughts around the current series between New Zealand and the South African tourists. Although the results in the short forms of the game were disappointing, I was always most fascinated by what would happen in the test matches after the Black Caps' showing in Hobart and Napier. I was of the opinion before the test series that the result depended on the following things:

• Chris Martin's ability to get wickets - especially Smith as the captain who he has dismissed many times before
• The success of McCullum and Taylor in the middle-order against a very fine fast bowling attack and a more than useful spinner. Taylor's debut series was in South Africa and he was found wanting every time but he has grown a lot since then and is the captain as well. I will talk more about McCullum in a future post
• The form of Kallis and Amla. These two batsmen dominated our bowling the last time we faced them; they are the kinds of batsmen that get set in the middle and murder fast-medium attacks like ours. Only if we get them early, often and cheap do we stand a chance to match them as a batting line up
• Lastly, Vettori needs to break the habit of his career and get some wickets against South Africa. I have pointed this out before, his record against them is terrible. While Warne and Murali would feast on the Proteas' lack of confidence against spin bowling, Vettori has always struggled and if he is really the great spin bowler that people talk up, he needs to fix this blemish on his record (probably shouldn't have used the word 'fix'...)

As a final word on how New Zealand can win against South Africa, given any success lies with that of Vettori and Martin, the wickets must not be lifeless. The temptation is surely there to produce slow, flat decks to negate Steyn/Morkel/Philander but this would be a huge mistake in my opinion. I believe that the difference in the sides is between the batsmen, to a greater degree, than than the bowlers. There is so much experience and talent in the South African batting line up but if there is a bit of green in the wicket, the gap will narrow. I do not wish for another Hobart wicket - that would be too far - but don't fall into the trap of taking away the one area where both bowling line-ups are fairly equal: swing.

Now, this week the great Rahul Dravid finally retired and here is the obligatory statistical summary:

Test Career: 1996-2012

13,288 runs @ 52.31 with 36 centuries and 63 half-centuries

High score of 270

210 catches

(he also made almost 11,000 runs in ODI cricket)

Highlights include:

• 96 on debut at Lords, his first century was in South Africa, consecutive scores of 115, 148 and 217 in England (tour of 2002, plus 100* vs WI in his next innings) and 3 more centuries in England a decade later (last year when his team was thrashed 4-0)

However, to understand his true greatness and success it is helpful to compare him to his often over-hyped and certainly overrated, colleague Sehwag. Dravid is one of a rare breed of batsmen (certainly Indian ones) in that he averaged more away (53) than he did at home (51) and his career is littered with centuries in tough conditions:

• 233 to win the Adelaide test in 2003
• 270 in Rawalpindi to beat Pakistan by an innings (no other batsmen got passed 77) in 2004
• 190 and 103* in Hamilton 1999
• Multiple centuries in South Africa, England and the West Indies

His average in England was 68.80, in New Zealand 63.8, in Pakistan 78.6 and 65.7 in the West Indies. 21/36 centuries were outside India and he averaged an impressive 42 and 40 in the 3rd and 4th innings of tests respectively. Add to that, one of the most UNDER-stated innings, his 180 against Australia to help Laxman win after following on. Dravid could fight and achieve towering success when it really mattered and had the skill and temperament to do so in foreign/hostile conditions - his record vs Australia is not impressive but the two centuries that he scored against them were in the two famous victories mentioned above (Adelaide and Kolkata).

Sehwag on the other hand gains success out of a technique that spits on the idea of temperament and skill. He possesses amazing talent and nerve, I cannot deny him that, but his success is largely on dead wickets in the subcontinent and his record is terribly inflated as a result. He averages 27.8 in England, 20.00 in New Zealand, 25.46 in South Africa and even 35.2 in Bangladesh strangely. His record in India is impressive (average of 58), in Pakistan it is 91 and in Sri Lanka it is 69. Both of his triple centuries were in the sub-continent which leads me to label him, nothing more or less, the greatest exponent of the flat-track bully cricket has seen; Graeme Hick retired in 2001 and Sehwag debuted a few months later to carry the standard into the new millennium. I don't want to sound like I am getting at him personally, I have a grudging respect for what he is able to do, but those who so foolishly champion him as Tendulkar-like earn my scorn. Dravid has been the only contemporary Indian batsman to deserve a place anywhere near Tendulkar...

...until the appearance of Virat Kohli who just scored his 10th ODI century at the age of 23. He may yet impress further

Well that's it from here and I hope you join me again

It's good bye for now