The Long Handle
A geological game changer
If you want to dominate world cricket, you better import bits of the country you want to acclimatise to
Andrew Hughes
07-Jun-2014
In a chaotic world, sport offers us certainty and comfort. Like science, it is built on enduring rules and theories (although, unlike science, it doesn't make you wear a lab coat or laugh at you if you ask why Schrodinger's cat wasn't wearing a bell on its collar.)
So what are the universal laws of sport? Well, there's the Football Dance Correlation, which states that a nation's footballing ability is in direct proportion to the sexiness of its national dance. Hence we hear a lot about Brazil's samba football but England's morris dancing football rarely gets a mention.
Cricket fans also hold certain half-truths to be self-evident. We know for a fact that Indian batsmen turn into batsman-shaped jellies if asked to play outside Asia and that they always, always lose on a bouncy pitch or a green pitch.*
Full postWhat the spirit of cricket says
The mysterious entity is taking a very dim view of English cricket right now
Andrew Hughes
05-Jun-2014
The Spirit of Cricket is a mysterious entity. Until recently, it lived with the Tooth Fairy, Zeus, the Will-o'-the-Wisp and the ghost of WG Grace in an imaginary cloud castle that, depending on the prevailing wind, is located three or four miles above the Lord's Pavilion.
Like most supernatural beings, the Spirit of Cricket was originally well-disposed to humans. We kept talking about how great and important it was, how it made the cricket tribe so much mightier than all the other tribes, and the priests of the MCC even came up with some holy scripture to enhance its reputation, the sacred "Preamble to the Laws".
But over the years the Spirit has started to take a dim view of homo sapiens. Sky fairies may enjoy the unquestioning worship and the regular name checks but on the whole they prefer an easy life. There's not much point living in a luxurious five-star cloud retreat, complete with Olympian swimming pool, refurbished Augean stables and en-suite adulation if every five minutes you have to haul your ectoplasmic backside off your stuffed leather arm chair to intervene in some tedious terrestrial squabble.
Full postMumbai's missing momentum
What happened to the secret weapon that sweeps you to victory?
Andrew Hughes
31-May-2014
These days, admitting to being an IPL administrator may be on a par with confessing that you're a tabloid journalist, or that you enjoy pulling the wings off butterflies in your spare time, or that you're a great admirer of the work of Adam Sandler.
But the chaps at the IPL did get some things right. They realised early on that having millions of people watch their tournament was, on the whole, to be welcomed, and now anyone anywhere on planet Earth can tune into the IPL.
By contrast, if you're English, sitting in an English armchair in an English house, and you want to watch England or any of the counties of England play cricket on your television, but you haven't got £50 a month to spare, then tough.
Full postLet's hear it for the mathematicians
There's a sorely underappreciated class of superstar in the IPL
Andrew Hughes
28-May-2014
In previous eras, owning a pair of long shorts and demonstrating the ability to lift both feet off the ground in quick succession without falling over was enough to prove your athletic credentials. Anyone who was prepared to interrupt their smoking habit in order to run around in public wearing silly trousers was self-evidently a dedicated sportsperson.
Golfers only needed to be fit enough to amble from tee to tee without getting too wheezy, footballers wore extra-thick jerseys to keep their wobbly bellies under control, and Rugby Union offered many a small, fat, violent person the chance of sporting fame.
Sadly, those days are gone. Now everyone is an athlete, apart from athletes, who have evolved into super athletes, or in some cases, steroid-laced seven-foot-tall super athletes with bulging veins and wild, goggly eyes.
Full postWhat Gilesy said
When the head of the ECB speaks, you listen. And smirk
Andrew Hughes
24-May-2014
When the great men of cricket clear their throats with a preparatory harrumph, that is the signal for us mere mortals to stop messing about and pay attention.
So, on Tuesday, when I heard that Lord Clarke of Antigua, alumnus of Egregious College, Cambridge; Patron of the Fat Cats Federation; and Honorary Life President of the Wobbly Jowl Society, was about to speak his thoughts into a BBC microphone, I pulled the emergency- stop lever, pushed my way to the front of the bus and commandeered the driver's radio.
So what did he have to say? Well, quite a lot. Giles produced more words than any human could comfortably stuff into their earholes at one sitting; a bonanza crop of verbiage, but from among the salad of wisdom I have plucked just a couple of the tastiest quotes:
Full postHow do you consistently turn victory into defeat?
The Delhi Daredevils have figured it all out
Andrew Hughes
21-May-2014
Those of a Buddhist disposition will tell you that the world is in constant change, that certainty is an illusion, that existence is a state of flux, and that if you can't handle it, losers, then that's your problem, now get out of my way, I've got a meditation class to go to.
Evolution is no more reassuring. Those who can adapt survive; those who can't, get left behind, helplessly bleating last year's buzzwords, slowed down by their unfashionable shoes, as the herd of humankind tramp on across the savannah of progress.
Look what happened to the dinosaurs. They cornered the market in stomping and roaring, but come the meteor apocalypse, stomping and roaring were suddenly so last age. They didn't embrace change. Some of them didn't even want to look at change, although they couldn't cover their eyes with their hands because their arms were too short.
Full postPunjab's extended honeymoon
Teams are discovering that if Sehwag doesn't get you, Saha, Maxwell, Miller, Bailey, or someone else will
Andrew Hughes
17-May-2014
So after several weeks of this interminable contest of hype and excess involving a collection of overrated and overpaid individuals who think that a few days' work per year entitles them to a lifestyle of five-star hotels, limousines, and having their photos taken with celebrities, the Indian general election is finally over.
To accommodate the vote count, the IPL has been put on hold for two days, presumably because politicians, like jealous old thespians, don't like having to share the stage with a younger, more talented and infinitely more popular cast.
Normally this business of closing down the nation's top cricket tournament to allow a bunch of power-hungry men to enjoy their 48 hours of fame would be a bad thing. But on this occasion the interruption is welcome. If watching the IPL is like climbing a mountain, then this is the point in the annual ascent when your companions have ceased to chatter excitedly about the breathtaking view and are now only able to produce involuntary wheezes and agonised mutterings as you stumble towards the summit, feeling increasingly dizzy and wondering if you're nearly there yet.
Full postDear cricket snobs...
It doesn't matter if T20 is "real cricket" or not. What matters it that it pays the bills
Andrew Hughes
14-May-2014
When cricketers write down their thoughts, we should all pay attention. Obviously this doesn't include their Twitter dribblings. Perhaps somewhere out there among the bat-waving, ball-flinging fraternity there lurks a potential Twitter Shakespeare, a part-time legspinner, pinch-hitter or reserve wicketkeeper, who may one day open our eyes to the glorious and profound possibilities inherent in the 140-character form.
Thus far, alas, such a hero has yet to emerge and the collective literary efforts of the planet's cricketers seem to be an experiment set up to test the infinite-monkey theorem.
So I should qualify that opening statement. When former world-class cricketers possessing the wisdom derived from spending half a lifetime learning how to do something, and who have, along the way, picked up the ability to string a couple of sentences together, write down their thoughts, we should all pay attention.
Full postTime to embrace the puppy treatment
It's not too long before we see the first mass fight on a cricket field. Smacks need to be delivered to bottoms before that day comes
Andrew Hughes
10-May-2014
Let's be honest; many of us secretly enjoy a bit of aggro. I'm the kind of coward who would run away from a food fight, but I have to admit that an obscure dusty corner of my cerebellum begins to hum at the sight of two people squaring up.
It's our genetic heritage. If your diet revolves around woolly mammoth, then a certain amount of aggression, along with a sharpened stick, is de rigeur. And if, having dragged the woolly mammoth carcass all the way back to your cave, some Neanderthal calls you a sissy and tries to steal your dinner, then you need the ability to get angry in a hurry. You might even need to throw something wooden in his direction.
Still, just because something is in our nature, that doesn't make it immutable. Left to develop naturally, our teeth would rot, leading to blood poisoning. Do we shrug our shoulders and say, "Hey, that's just how humans are?" Confronted with someone defecating in the street, would we smile knowingly to our companion and say, "Humans, eh?"
Full postWhy the IPL needs Kolkata
No other team provides as many chuckles as consistently
Andrew Hughes
07-May-2014
Delhi Defeat and the Mumbai Inexplicables have had their moments, and much amusement was derived from the now-defunct Pune Pouters and the equally defunct Kochi Katastrophes Kerala, but of all the franchises that have been entertaining us since 2008, it is the Kolkata Komedy who have been the most consistent providers of chuckles.
On Monday, Gautam led his side to Ahmedabad, but before he got to grapple with Rajasthan, Kolkata's captain had to survive the Danny Morrison experience.
It wasn't just Gautam. The innocent, sleepy viewer, who had just been listening to the mellow tones of Mr Bhogle was, without warning, thrust directly into Danny's eye-boggling face as he screamed something about Ahmedabad into the camera.
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