Thank God…

It seems it is back with a bang in Ahmedabad where India fell into awful strife against Sri Lanka on the first morning (at the same ground that they’ve been skittled out by South Africa and New Zealand in the last decade) at 32/4, but at time of writing, have perfected a superb recovery to 384/6, with the fantastic Rahul Dravid putting to bed many of the “he’s past it” voices with a crucial 177 not out. The run rate is amazing, but that’s probably because the other two major contributors in the recovery were Yuvraj Singh (68) and MS Dhoni (110), but at time of writing, Dravid has faced just 250 balls for his 177, and that isn’t crawling.

I will be the first to hold my hands up and say I am a great admirer of Rahul Dravid. For 13 years now he has been the understated mainstay of the Indian batting order. While I have no doubt he is a megastar in India, he was always Robin to Tendulkar’s Batman, and sometimes that just wasn’t justified. For spells in his career he was the man, the one you needed to get out because once in, you couldn’t get him out. He is an archetypal test cricketer – yet he still has a more than acceptable one day career to fall back on. When playing county cricket his colleagues remarked on what a good man he was, how he set such an example. His conduct on the field has been unquestionable, his roll in the Indian team invaluable. His pinnacles are numerous, but his two key knocks to help beat the Aussies in Kalkota and Adelaide stand out. There was that summer in England where we couldn’t knock him over, no matter how hard we try (at The Oval we needed to run him out). Although I fear a strong India and what they can do to the game, I am a great fan of Dravid and I am pleased he’s got the big one.

With his 177th run, he has now reached 11000 test runs. Only a select few have reached that mark – Tendulkar, Lara, Ponting and Border – Dravid deserves his place at the top table. 

I am so sorry folks. I just haven’t been enthused enough about the Champions Trophy, the Champions League or the current Australia v India one day series to be bothered to post. I am not going to go on at length about Sachin’s brilliant 175 yesterday (amazing how he got out again in sight of the winning post – I reckon his biographer will blame others for that) as I didn’t see it, but at the secondhand exhortation of others, I recorded it on Sky overnight and will try to watch it some time soon.

I am returning, albeit briefly, to this blog in advance of England’s tour of South Africa for a small book review. This one is around 10 years old and is Devon Malcolm’s tale of rags to riches to losing rags in a jaunty little autobiography called “You Guys Are History”. Seriously, given the tone of the book, and the almost apologetically genteel nature of Devon, I find it hard to believe he ever said those words, but mythology and fact can collide.

I came across this book review on Amazon…

Sweeps aside any prejudices of this fast bowling prodigy., 23 Mar 1999

By A Customer

This is the story of who has probably been England’s most tallented (sic) fast bowler in the last 10 years. This book tells his sad story of his unfair treatment from many of his fellow players. His carrear (sic) may have been so much better if he was just left to his natural style and given respect by Ray Illingworth. I still believe him to be the best fast bowler in England along with Darren Gough and this book will sweep aside any prejudices you have of this fast bowling prodigy.

I loved the last word. Prodigy. He himself said he never took up cricket until late, and spent two years not playing. Not sure he’s in the Mozart class for prodigy. And “best” fast bowler in England along with Gough should read for the 90s, “only” fast bowlers. Syd Lawrence disappeared off the scene very quickly, more’s the pity.

So to my feelings on this account. It was a jaunty read, not taking me long to finish it, as this reminded me of a time when English cricket tried to catch up with the Aussies, and yet we still got left in their wake. Obviously when reading about Devon, we want to know about the Illingworth business, and he does go into it but not in the microscopic detail he probably could have (and given this came out when he still had hopes of England appearances, who can blame him for holding back). You did rather want him to get a grip of himself, but he made Illingworth’s England days seem like a reign of terror, with a cowed, frightened captain unable to resist Illingworth and his band of old codgers who wanted to do it like they did in their day.

There were small errors, which annoyed as Pat Murphy (the sometimes snidey 5 Live commentator) comes across as a know it all on the radio and yet doesn’t know (or his proof reader didn’t) if it was Sid Lawrence or Syd in the space of two lines. There was one factual mistake I screamed at, but for the life of me now I can’t remember, so it isn’t in the Richie Benaud class. Annoyingly the book kept calling the Aussie coach of Derbyshire Les Stilman with one “l” when a quick fact-check would have revealed an expected extra “l” in the surname. (Les Stillman). If you are going to ghost-write someone’s memoirs, please do your checking. Odd typos always get through, I know.

Ok to the book. Let me sum it up.

Devon comes from Jamaica, mum died young, dad worked in Sheffield, joined him, joined local club, was a bit too quick, joined better club, knocked over Boycott in a practice match, was not allowed to even think about joining Yorkshire, got a go at Derbyshire, learned off coach, Holding and Wright, and initially Barnett. Couldn’t field, wasn’t a good bat, but could whang it down quick.

Got picked for England in 1989, wasn’t ready, had a terrible debut, England set up was a joke, no discipline, no rigour, no plan, no idea. Went to Windies in 1990 under Gooch, team gelled, he bowled well, got Viv a couple of times, tour was brilliant, thought he was fixture for a while.

In an out of side, liked the Oval, ran through his winning career performance against the South Africans, then fell foul of the Illingworth regime’s ridiculous methods of trying to change him.

He hasn’t had a captain he really enjoyed playing under at international level. Gower was too slipshod, Gooch too inflexible, Atherton too cowed. Didn’t mind Mickey Stewart as coach, although he could be a bit too keen on “hard work”, thought Fletcher was a joke, won’t send a Christmas card to Illingworth, and was more positive about David Lloyd. All his international bowling coaches had two horns, and didn’t know what they were doing. That’s Geoff Arnold and Peter Lever to you and I.

The book is at its best when Devon reflects on the tough times under Illingworth and that fateful South African tour. I’ve now read the accounts by Illingworth, Atherton and Devon on this, and of course, no axe to grind Sir Ian Asperger’s take from outside the tent. Devon went into that series injured, and he does come across as very stubborn in all the accounts about his recovery. That said, the shameful scapegoating of him for losing at Cape Town is a scar that hurts Devon, and quite bloody rightly so. If you fail to prepare, you prepare to fail. Devon Malcolm had not played cricket in a month, was coming off an injury as well, and was expected to win a test at Cape Town when the brains trust put Jack Russell in as high as six. When it failed, instead of blaming management desperation, they blamed Devon. It was wrong then, it is wrong now. Devon may come across in the book at feeling too sorry for himself in the run-up to the test, but when someone like Robin Smith is quoted as being at the end of his tether during that series, it isn’t difficult to see why Devon, subject of some pretty nasty off the record quotes by people who should have known better, went into himself.

To try to change his action seemed daft even with 15 years between the events and now. Every England fan knew what you got with Devon. He was the ultimate “Daisy”. Some daisy he does. Some daisy he doesn’t. He was a quick bowler. It was his only way to bowl. It is what we picked him for. The whole shebang is being repeated now with Steve Harmison. When Harmy bowls quick, he’s amazing. When he doesn’t, he’s garbage. However trying to make Devon a quick line and length bowler is like trying to make me into a front-foot straight hitter. It isn’t the best use of your best ability, and will only lead to confusion. Devon’s frustrations scream out through each page of this section.

I think the best bits are to do with Derbyshire. A few people come out of the book as total arseholes, most notably Kim Barnett and Phil de Freitas. Dominic Cork isn’t far behind. I recall Derbyshire rising up like a phoenix for a short time under Jones and Stillman, who performed the bad cop (Jones) good cop (Stillman) role to a tee. Jones was the typical mouthy Aussie – challenging, competing, in your team-mates face, never be satisfied type – and when his approach run you up the wrong way, Stillman would be the genteel, calming influence asking and cajoling the player to do better. I’m not sure the alienation between Jones and Barnett came directly from Jones dropping Barnett down the order for a Sunday League game, because that seemed small. No, more likely is that a successful Jones / Stillman regime would queer his pitch as Mr Kingmaker at Derbyshire, and while the team were playing well he couldn’t frighten the horses. I recall, because he was in my Fantasy Cricket team at the time, that Chris “the ego” Adams flourished under the Jones /Stillman team and was out the door pretty much as soon as they were forced out. Devon’s refusal to back the renegades is enlightening and revealing. “It’s your benefit” was the threat that was made to him if he didn’t. And then, like that, people refused to turn up at his functions etc. The one who he really rails on is Phil de Freitas who comes across, quite frankly, as a tosser.

All in all, not a bad read, a bit too folksy for my tastes, but informative, enlightening in parts, and really good on the Derbyshire business. It certainly opened my eyes on players views on each other, and I’d love to know who it was in the squad who egged Devon on to tell them what Illingworth had done to him. I was bored with the tiresome Robert Henderson article stuff, but I suppose I needed to be the victim of that to truly understand how it hurt, and I got a bit bored with him saying how he didn’t care if anyone got hurt. You sense his frustration, but I genuinely think Devon got the test career he deserved – he averaged in the high 30s, and was a liability in the field and with the ball. He could win you a game, but when he bowled like a drain, he wasn’t going to help in other ways. But he was right on one big count about bowlers. In Cape Town in 1995-6, England were skittled out below 200 in both innings, yet he got the blame for losing the game. It really is a batsman’s game.

 

I haven’t been enthused to write on this blog for a while. One day cricket just doesn’t do it for me.

However, I thought I’d pop my head up to relay my sadness at the death of David Shepherd. I was there for his last international appearance in England on 12 July 2005 at The Oval for the one-dayer against Australia (the day before my mum’s funeral) and his retirement was a loss to the game. Now he’s lost his life to that bastard of all diseases.

David Foot’s tribute on cricinfo is appropriate to append here. A man who garnered much affection around the world.

http://www.cricinfo.com/wisdencricketer/content/current/story/223098.html

Simon Taufel’s is also excellent

http://www.cricinfo.com/england/content/current/story/431848.html

Cricket has lost one of its enduring characters.

David Shepherd's Last Day As An International Umpire

My apologies for not updating this blog quite as much as Seven and Seven Eighths, but at the moment I am a little cricketed out, and can’t really get enthused about a Champions League competition in the hit and giggle form of the game. While in Cornwall I missed both semi-finals, and the final of the Champions Trophy, won by Australia thanks to two centuries in a row from Shane Watson, and thus giving the lie to the line that the Australians are finished at the top end of the game. One only has to see how Sussex were demolished by New South Wales to tell you that. They have Brett Lee, Phil Hughes and Simon Katich playing – where is Matt Prior?

I shall expand more on the Surrey season in due course. The little bit of Wisden Cricketer handed over to Chris Adams is the usual mea non culpa bullshit we’ve learned to live with over the course of the ego’s career. Merely saying that once the player’s take the field it is all up to them isn’t going to cut the mustard. He has got rid of much of the “dead wood” as he would see it, but is no nearer getting the bowling line-up to take 20 wickets than we were when we were unceremoniously bundled out of the top flight. I do have to laugh at the glee that Wisden Cricketer’s scribe couldn’t suppress in his comments “no-one bemoans the loss of the Surrey strut”. Oh for christ’s sake – Surrey have been garbage for six or seven years now, and this team is as far away from Adam Hollioake’s outfit as I am from a major part in Hollyoaks. Pack it in, moron.

There’s an interview in WC with Graeme Swann by John Stern that is as tedious as it sounds, with Swann giving off his folksy charm and supposedly being in line for a captaincy slot in A Question of Sport with former sportsman turned TV whore Matt Dawson cited as a comparable figure. Jesus. However, in this piece Stern has a barb at Matthew Hoggard for his “intellectual” status that became grating. Where did that come from? I mention it only because Yorkshire have booted out Hoggard this week because “he wanted too much money”. Surrey? You there? Need a top line bowler not likely to be called up for internationals? Surrey?

Meanwhile England have decided to dispense with Steve Harmison for this winter’s tour. The Dope with the Mope put out the usual spin about it being hard to believe he isn’t one of the top five bowlers in the country, but the fact is that we are now six winters removed from his only decent showing on the road, and we have rather more recent memories of him trundling in bowling long-hops in Hamilton, and then bleating and moaning that he was homesick. Don’t look at others Steve, look at yourself. You have the talent – by bloody hell he has – but he hasn’t made it stick. I don’t blame England one bit.

No international cricket for a little bit, so the blog may become a photo fest and a reminiscence vehicle, but I will try to stick with it as best I can. Somerset v Trindad and Tobago is on right now. Please give my regards to anyone who cares. I thought Langer had left Somerset – I guess the lure of the rupee was just too strong. After all, it cured Tres’s homesickness / depression.

The last (only) time I jetted down to South Africa we had Jack Simmons on our flight. Jack, being a little sturdy in build, was always a little favourite of mine. He provided inspiration for the tour. A pity the next time I saw him was in a lift lobby in Joburg when the Lancashire chairman had just popped his clogs. Life’s a real pain sometimes.

That meaningless piffle is lead on to the England performance yesterday.

I will now pause to reflect on South Africa’s performance in an international cricket tournament when “favourites”.

That's Smith In The Background...

I was driving to and from the recycling centre and visiting  the hell on earth that is Surrey Quays Tescos, so heard some of the scores on the radio as I was driving home. We had lost two wickets in the first 80 or so runs, and all seemed to point to a middling England score of 230-250 and a successful chase by the charming, diffident, utterly graceful South Africans. So when I got home, and then after a 40 minute boot the ball and get the dog to chase it session over the fields, I came back and switched on the TV. I looked at the score. So on a cat theme, this is how I reacted.

That's Me, That Is

Shah had decided to go berzerk. Then came Eoin Morgan. Collingwood played second fiddle but made a very cohesive 80 odd. England posted 323 or some such nonsense score. The second best ever in Champions Trophy history (and the best was against the USA so that doesn’t count). But what got me, despite the brilliance of Morgan and Shah, was the utter confidence in Kepler Wessels in particular, that this was a score the South Africans would get. They bat down the order. They have Gibbs back. They are very strong. The clear message – if this pathetic England team could despatch Parnell, Steyn and I really can’t remember the other legends in their team (did Kallis bowl?) around the park, then it must be a belter of a wicket and don’t you remember they chased 430 odd at Joburg against the Aussies?

When they batted the South Africans lost the man who could make that 150 in 40 overs quite early. Gibbs is very hit and miss, and this day he missed. Smith played a brilliant anchor role, making a run a ball 141 – a score England can only dream of – but Kallis looked stodgy, DeVilliers is another out of the hit and miss brigade, and Duminy flattered to deceive (brilliant 166 against Aussie apart, I am not sold on this guy – watch him murder us this winter!). When Duminy was batting Wessels was quite assured despite the rate ascending (he took great comfort in the fact SA were close to the England score – ignoring the phenomenal acceleration we achieved), despite the fact that England had pretty much got all their part-time bowlers out of the way, and despite the fact that it was under lights and under pressure.

Wessels assured us they had two great one day specialists to come. Turns out they were Mark Boucher and Albie Morkel. You’d have thought they were Lance Klusener and Michael Bevan the way he was banging on. When Morkel came in to bat they put up his record in one day internationals.

One fifty in 42 games with an average of 23, and just one 50 against Zimbabwe. Stone me. I know you can paint the best picture out of the most basic of colours, but Jesus. He put the rose tint on that one. Dangerous hitter? Yes, of course he is, but he’s less consistent, or effective, than serial nutter spinner / slogger Shahid Afridi. Leave it out Kepler.

Anyway, once the great Albie Morkel was run out, and Strauss had done his Aussie impression on Graeme Smith (who naturally bleated to the press like the whingeing twat he is – he should be Australian, he is that odious) and denied him a runner because he was fat and unfit (that coming from me), England took enough wickets including the particuarly nasty looking thrower called Botha and some chap called van der Merwe who had his furniture removed, to win with some comfort. However, when times got a bit testy in the final powerplay that Wessels clearly believed the legendary Albie Morkel would smash to all parts, the great, and I mean it, great Bob Willis came good in the commentary box.

On Stuart Broad, who bowled another assortment of filth, and after he had been smacked for four off a full bunger outside off “Goodness knows what James Anderson must be thinking about this absolute rubbish Broad is serving up”. That’s what I want my commentators to say! He had a poke at the umpires constantly referring decisions – “I know they don’t want to be shown up, but some of these referrals are absolutely ridiculous.” Say it as you see Bob. Much missed by me in the commentary box, I can assure you. I would love to watch the game with you and Bumble in full cry. I wish it was Daryll Harper umpiring. Bob loves him! Instead it was Simon Davis who has all the makings of a full-blown anti-English clown.

I digress. The faces in the South African dressing room were a picture. There is plenty of merit in being confident. There is not plenty of merit in acting like you’ve made it, on the back of slim evidence. Australia have won the last three World Cups, you haven’t won a one-day tournament worth a light. Australia ruled test cricket for 15 years – you beat them on their own patch and then returned home and got turned over. Even England can beat Australia at home. An England without KP and a half-fit Freddie, carrying underperforming muppets like Bopara, Collingwood, Bell and Cook. You sneer at England, say Trott might be a squad player, and then stink the place out. Parnell has all the attributes one could want of a hate figure – stupid necklace, mouthy demeanour, inappropriate celebrations of wickets when you are being humped, no real history in the game – and is Dale Steyn becoming Steve Harmison before our eyes, or is that just the cough mixture?

I know this is a little bit puerile, but South African cricket needs the reality check every bit as much as England did in 2005. It may, just may, be sinking in now to the thick England hierarchy, and I for one don’t expect much out of England in this tournament so it is all a pleasant surprise to me, but getting booted out of another tournament on your own patch may resonate with South Africa. That said, if the attitude of Kepler Wessels (and when he commentates, Daryll Cullinan) is endemic, then a little self awareness of your own limitations isn’t likely to be on the agenda.

Nice one boys. Always good to dump them out in their own back yard.

Remember 2005.

This book had been sitting on the shelf above the bed for a while now. Purchased for £4.99 out of Sussex Stationers a good few years ago, it sat there with an air of “only read it when I have to” about it. Last week, having finished the excellent Robert Millar book (see Seven and Seven Eighths), I decided now was the time to bite the bullet and read another book about a series that will go down in history for the amount of literature it spurned (America’s version is the number of books about the Red Sox World Series win in 2004 – I have most of those too!).

I don’t mind admitting that expectations were low, and that I’d be subjected to a load of old cliched drivel about a series that breathed life into English cricket, but was also the start of the slide from a very temporary peak. In the end, while this was no literature masterpiece, it wasn’t purgatory, and while no book sanctioned by the PCA was ever going to dish the dirt on the players, there was a little more inside information about the individuals own weaknesses than I could have expected. How Vaughan wasn’t quite as captain cool as you thought, how Ashley Giles was plagued with inferiority complexes and anxieties, and how Strauss seemed to be totally at ease with being called Daryll by Drug Cheat.

Sure, the book lapses into drivelled old cliches throughout, and when, early on, it referred to a test as David Graveney’s 100th in charge of selection (Jesus, who would be sad enough to keep count – I feel the hand of the telegenic winner/nowhere to be seen loser at the tiller) my heart sunk. There is lots of hyperbole, lots of players talking up the other players, lots of “magic moments” and “wonderful catches” and “batting like a God”. I loved the bit where KP ignored what the non-striker said to him because he so pumped up by smashing the ball to all parts. I really enjoyed Geraint Jones candour about his keeping mistakes. Ian Bell’s role (a couple of 50s at Old Trafford) is milked for all its worth. He was forgettable. Simon Jones’ memories are utterly poignant. We have really missed him, and it is such a tragedy that he’s been injured.

The good outweighed the bad, which when you are commenting and reporting back on a series that every English cricket lover remembers, is no mean feat. Peter Hayter (who I believe wrote this) can get a little bit too treacly in his writing, but I got through it quick enough which is never a bad sign. Not a masterpiece, but not a waste of time. 3* for me.

I must confess that when this tournament started I had little interest in the outcome. That is probably because the expectations for England were so low. But the format of this shin-dig is good – three group games, a semi and a final, and the ICC are to be commended for this and the World 20/20. Do you think they will get the message for the Cricket World Cup?

I will go more into England’s win(s) a bit later if time permits, but read this article…

It obsesses more over whether we should have given a big bloke with a limp, a man who will probably admit that he’s plays it as tough as anybody, a runner than it does on commenting on one of the best cameo innings you are likely to see from Eoin Morgan, or two superb knocks from Shah and Collingwood.

This is all on England’s batting..

“Man of the match Owais Shah, who struck 98, and Eoin Morgan hit 11 of the England record 12 sixes in an impressive 323 for eight, their sixth-biggest score in 50 over cricket.”

Collingwood doesn’t even merit a mention. Nor did the excellent bowling of Jimmy Anderson. We have bigger fish to fry.

Over half the article is dedicated to Strauss’s decision not to let Smith have a runner (who incidentally, he nominated as AB De Villiers. Why didn’t he give Usain Bolt temporary citizenship or get Caster Semenya out for the afternoon?). We English are a funny mob.

Jayasuriya, Dilshan, Sangakkara and Jayawardene all gone?

Is this cricinfo playing a cruel joke on us all?

	TM Dilshan	c Morgan b Anderson	2	12	0	0	16.66
	2.3 oh well held Morgan! Anderson gets his man, pitching it up outside off stump, Dilshan has a full-blooded drive at that but Morgan at backward point cups a good low catch 7/2
	ST Jayasuriya	c †Prior b Onions	0	2	0	0	0.00
	1.5 top ball and that’s edged! Really a gem of a delivery from Onions, pitched up, no room to work with, lures Jayasuriya forward, then deviates ever so gently as he pushes at it and the thin nick is snapped up by Prior 7/1
	KC Sangakkara*†	c Strauss b Onions	1	6	0	0	16.66
	5.2 edged and gone! Another one goes, its Sangakkara this time, chasing a full and wide ball leaving him and he can only edge it Strauss at first slip, who cups it in front of his face, Australian style 17/4
	DPMD Jayawardene	lbw b Anderson	9	12	1	0	75.00

According to cricinfo it was 17/4.

Don’t worry England fans. We can easily lose it from here.

I know it isn’t released until October, and I know I’ll probably wind up reading it in the fullness of time (quite possibly for the Adelaide series I am writing), but from what I’ve seen of the extracts from the book serialised in the Daily Mail, my heart sinks. While it is nice to see that he feels free of the burden of the ECB line, it will be interesting to see how he justifies his stance on returning to India last winter (he was one of the few vehemently opposed) with his stated desires to retire from test cricket to pursue an IPL career (and make money), and how he can explain his statement that “playing for England wasn’t about the money” in relation to the Stanford 20/20, but by leaving England, and turning down a contract, he opens up the money avenue from the IPL.

I know people think I am harsh on Flintoff. Maybe it is the cynic in me, but I don’t buy the folk hero nonsense that has been perpetuated about him. He was a cricketer capable of great performances, rather than a great cricketer. I am reading Ashes Victory about 2005 at the moment, and that was his zenith. When he ruled the cricketing world. In the four years since then he’s been an awful captain, had one century and one five wicket haul, and countless injuries.

I wish him well in his retirement, but I fear that England has not seen the last of Freddie-mania and come September next year, his agents, spokespeople et al will be at work. Mark my words….

Here is your Dmtri Old cut out and keep guide to this ICC driven nonsense.

Why is this being played? I know the tournament is shorter than in previous incarnations, and we’ve given Bangladesh and Zimbabwe the boot, but why is this being played at all? I suppose the ICC have to pay for those offices in Dubai.

The only team I don’t want to win? South Africa. Because they want to win it so badly. For a year now they are walking around like they are the best in the world. On the basis of winning in Australia (I’ve put on record how I believe their two victories were freaks), while, England-esque, forgetting about being beaten at home by the same opposition. Opposition England turned over, and I’m not claiming we are world beaters. Quite plausibly, if the umpire got it right, we could have levelled the series against South Africa at Edgbaston in 2007, but instead Smith lived to fight on and win the game. They beat us, sure, but the rub of the green was an aid. It was hardly an Aussie 2001 style humping. We aren’t talking the Invincibles here.

So they march around, as if they are the undisputed world best team at all forms of the game, and in the opening match, they get buried. I laughed my head off. Sure, it is only one game, but they looked awful. They looked great in the qualifying stages of the 20/20, but lost when the pressure really was on. Maybe they are going a different route today. They have bowled out New Zealand for not a lot, so will survive and then beat England to qualify. But while the best one day team in the world, as they are apparantly, were turned over 4-0 in England last autumn, Australia turned us over 6-1. Tell me, why do they believe they are all conquering? Hence I’d like to see them lose.

As for England, with the news KP is a major doubt for the winter – do we employ Dewhursts to do our operations – and Freddie wants to pursue a lucrative career in para-gliding or whatever bullshit he’s coming up with next to play in the IPL, I have no hope we can do anything because we lack pizzazz. That little inspiration factor. Prior, Shah, Bopara, Collingwood? Jesus. Strauss better make a couple of tons. To keep the games interesting. Why couldn’t we get West Indies B in our group to at least provide us with a level playing field. I await our customary defeat to New Zealand in any game that matters over 50 overs, and if they bat first, will we keep Sri Lanka under 350?

I’ll comment if I can be bothered. So don’t expect much.