Paul Ford
What makes Jesse Ryder a cult hero
New Zealand cricket - and the morons it attracts like moths to a flame - sure know how to take the gloss off what should have been a glorious week celebrating the renaissance of Test cricket in the land of the long white cloud
Paul Ford
30-Mar-2013
New Zealand cricket - and the morons it attracts like moths to a flame - sure know how to take the gloss off what should have been a glorious week celebrating the renaissance of Test cricket in the land of the long white cloud.
The morning after the excruciating magnificence of the final day of the third Test at Eden Park, Ross Taylor kicked things off with some burbled mutterings on a radio breakfast show about how "over the next couple of weeks or months things might get told". He prised off the captaincy scab that many had hoped was healing nicely, and the appalling timing of his whining lost him a lot of sympathy and demonstrated poor judgment.
Then, 24 hours later, as Kiwi cricket fans raised their dented foreheads from the nation's desks after the former captain's whingeing, Taylor's issues with coach Mike Hesson (or "Hesson" as he calls him these days) paled into insignificance as the Jesse Ryder assault erupted into headlines and bulletins.
Full postDon't bat (especially if you're a Kiwi)
Despite the head shaking at Brendon McCullum's decision to insert England in Wellington, the statistics suggest batting first in Tests is not a sure-fire route to success - particularly if you are New Zealand
Paul Ford
24-Mar-2013
If I had a dollar - or preferably a pound sterling - for every piece of criticism that came Brendon McCullum's way in Wellington when he elected to bowl, my net worth would be threatening to break out of the working classes and into the middle classes.
One local scribe even flogged the dead captaincy horse by mischievously querying what Ross Taylor would have done if he was out there with Alastair Cook for the coin throwing, instead of the incumbent. The hoariest old cliche was wheeled out - yes, the one variously attributed to Shane Warne, Don Bradman, WG Grace and Ian Chappell: "If you win the toss - bat. If you are in doubt, think about it - then bat. If you have very big doubts, consult a colleague - then bat."
So when the news from the middle of the Basin emerged over the blaring PA: "New Zealand captain Brendon McCullum has won the toss and elected to bowl." Hands went to heads, heads shook in bewilderment, knitting needles were downed, eyebrows were raised, faces were aghast.
Full postBarmy versus Beige
The Barmy Army have been a visible and voluble presence in New Zealand, helping to create an unparalleled atmosphere at games - but it's unlikely that the Beige Brigade will be engaging them in a sing-song any time soon
Paul Ford
17-Mar-2013
Test match cricket in the world's southernmost capital city, Wellington, is a special time even when Zimbabwe or Bangladesh are here, but a New Zealand against England fixture is peerless as a Kiwi cricketing occasion.
The city is squashed between Lambton Harbour and several steep hill ranges, creating a sense of compactness and immediacy (and occasionally claustrophobia), with the Basin Reserve a leisurely 15-minute stroll from the Wellington CBD's main strip of drinking establishments. The Basin is a ground established in what used to be a lake, smack bang in the middle of a busy one-way traffic roundabout.
It is fantastic to be nestled on the eastern bank, tucked away from the breeze and soaking up the sun in a drought-stricken Kiwi summer to end them all. It has a white picket fence around its perimeter, a proper scoreboard, a quirkily curated Cricket Museum, Soviet-style toilet blocks and grassy embankments.
Full postWhat's with killjoy security guards?
It's fair to say the occupiers of Beige Brigade HQ have had their fair share of run-ins with security at cricketing grounds around the world
Paul Ford
10-Mar-2013
It's fair to say the occupiers of Beige Brigade HQ have had their fair share of run-ins with security at cricketing grounds around the world.
We've had megaphones confiscated (Basin Reserve), lost a man for innocently jumping the fence to take a photo (Gabba), remonstrated as our 'Chris Cairns in his Skants' poster was sliced in half with a knife (Cake Tin, Wellington), been reprimanded for singing loudly at Monty Panesar (Old Trafford), and been condemned for the offensiveness of the beige lycra suit (various).
In our experience, swathes of the people charged with protecting public safety at international cricket matches are bereft of common-sense and lack even a vague appreciation for the events unfolding on the paddock in front of them. How often have you witnessed a hiatus in play as a security guard wanders lackadaisically past the sightscreen? All too often they have heavy hands, lack charisma and thrive on the enforcement of rules that are pedantic, preposterous and unworkable.
Full postCheers and farewell, Louie the mole
Lou Vincent made a low-key exit from the game but the "cricket mole" was forever popping up to provide us with cracking memories
Paul Ford
27-Feb-2013
I was gutted to see the tweet come through from Lou Vincent earlier this month, announcing that he was pulling up his set of unordinary stumps and retiring to the hills and harbours of northwest Auckland. The self-described "cricket mole" has retired from a career of popping up in unexpected places.
Warkworth-born*, Adelaide-raised, AFL-loving Lou has always been one of the (disappointingly rare) characters on the Kiwi cricket scene, and that infectious personality and randomness extended far beyond the Antipodes to many cricketing citadels (and backwaters) including Worcestershire, Lancashire, Sussex, Khulna, Ramsbottom, Rawtenstall, Rochdale, Chandigarh, Oxton, Gaieties, Lashings and even a Phoenix Foundation music video.
I first came across him when I was the guy in charge of colour-coding jet plane lollies and washing groin protectors at Eden Park's outer oval, working for Auckland Cricket and hoping to avoid being dragged into the nets to face lanky Kerry Walmsley and an impossibly slippery Heath Davis.
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