The Long Handle
Does KP have any secrets from us?
Or why we all ought to sit down and enjoy Pietersengate
Andrew Hughes
25-Feb-2013
Pietersengate is fast becoming my favourite-ever cricket story, not least because cricket hacks are taking it so seriously. Some of the sombre reportage would be more suited to the breakdown of negotiations between two warring nations rather than a bit of a tiff between overgrown schoolboys. On Saturday, George Dobell, reporting live from the frontline in his flak jacket and UN helmet, had this to say:
"If Pietersen has hard evidence to support his views, then the results could be devastating. With both sides too entrenched in their views to accept an amnesty, it is also hard to see a happy ending to a saga that continues to damage the individuals and the England team."
Oh come now, George, it's not as serious as all that. For those of us who grew bored of reading wearisome tales of team-togetherness and all-for-oneness behind the scenes of Team England, it's heart-warming to learn that they're just as gossipy and bitchy as the rest of us. It's the perfect news story; a harmless Twitter storm that keeps on raging.
Full postWhat I'd do if I bought the Deccan Chargers
Cat collars, hair jobs and Eddie Hemmings are all in the offing
Andrew Hughes
25-Feb-2013
Exciting news for budding IPL fat cats. Deccan Bank Charges, the Hyderabad-based comedy troupe specialising in satirical defeats and cricket slapstick, is up for sale. This week, the following advert appeared in the Franchise and Tycoon Gazette:
Southern Indian cricket team. Slightly damaged. Consists of 34 professional cricketers, collection of dark blue shirts (some tear-staining) animal-based logo and pervading sense of failure. Reasonably priced, around $107 million. No credit card payments please.
That's a little steep, even for a ESPNcricinfo writer, but I've put my sealed bid in an envelope and posted it to the BCCI, so fingers crossed. I can't divulge the full details, but I can say that if I win the auction, Mr Srinivasan's cat Tiddles will be looking a lot smarter in her new collar and there'll be complimentary Ganguly-style hair renovations for all BCCI members.
Full postThe importance of cricket awards shows
You've got to have them, but what do you do when a must-have nominee isn't shortlisted?
Andrew Hughes
25-Feb-2013
In this fractured, divided world, if there's one thing common to all cultures, besides a tendency to want to tell other human beings how to live and a preference for indoor lavatories, it is the belief in the self-evident truth that every form of human endeavour, no matter how trivial, should be entitled to its own annual awards ceremony. Preferably with a band. And champagne.
And why not? An awards bash adds a sprinkle of glitter to our mundane existence. At this very moment, Bangalore's Champion Sewerage Operative 2012 is settling down for the night with his trophy, and the woman who recently earned the title of Basingstoke and District Driving Instructor of the Year is speeding to work, nursing a slight headache and humming "We are the Champions" as she jumps another red light.
The cult of the award ceremony is everywhere. The talent shows that infest our TV schedules are nothing more than extended versions of the bit in the Oscars when an actress fresh out of rehab takes three minutes to open the golden envelope, giggles, drops the piece of card, picks it up, turns it the right way round, falls over, is helped to her feet and then finally, with the support of her co-presenter, puts us out of our agony and tells us who has won the Oscar for best flatulence-based humour.
Full postThe carcass-removing fate of captains
It's not a job filled with glory, now, is it?
Andrew Hughes
25-Feb-2013
I've never felt much affinity for the heroes of the Middle Ages. As far as I can tell, they were over-privileged loudmouths with a predilection for iron trousers, who spent their leisure hours galloping about the countryside causing mayhem, abducting princesses from towers and threatening entirely innocent endangered reptiles.
Take St George: bravely murders an unarmed lizard and spends the rest of his life dining out on the fact. My respect in that particular case goes not to the egregious knight but to the poor sap who had to dispose of the carcass. Ten tonnes of dragon doesn't just disappear overnight. But does the dragon renderer get any credit? No, he does not.
So Andrew Strauss - and indeed any international cricket captain - has my full sympathy. Whilst the show ponies trot up and down striking poses, the captain is left holding the unsanitary end of the stick; making sure that everyone gets to the ground on time, pandering to the whims of that motley collection of prima donnas, drunks and nervous wrecks out of which he has to somehow mould a team, and weathering yet another press conference at which he has to be polite in the teeth of a storm of the bleeding obvious.
Full postSLPL's über-cool team names
And the return of Kamran Akmal
Andrew Hughes
25-Feb-2013
Autumn is my favourite time of year. Dew on the grass and a nip in the air can mean only one thing: the county season is nearly over. Soon, our cricket pages will no longer be gummed up with the exciting news that Keith Kolpack has taken three wickets before lunch in Sleepyshire's crucial middle-of-the-table clash with Somebodyorother at the Ennui Bowl; that Dullchestershire have installed a new digital weathervane or that Whocareshire have blown their ECB subsidy on a golden statue of Giles Clarke in the hope of winning an international fixture in 2017.
The tatty travesty that is the Futile Pursuits Trophy - a forlorn mockery of what was once a sexy young competition, like a faded sixties film star forced to eke out a living doing provincial pantomime - has already limped to its conclusion, and today I heard the welcome news that the Clydesdale Bank 40 has nearly been put out of its annual misery.
It is a curious beast, the CB40. It serves no apparent purpose; it is the appendix in the anatomy of modern cricket. Forty-over cricket? Who plays that anymore? If you think I'm being harsh, just apply the standard test for establishing whether a sports competition is worthwhile. Without opening a search engine or approaching your copy of Wisden, tell me who won the CB40 last year? Nope. Me neither.
Full postKevin Pietersen and a microphone
A story of self-love, snippiness, and scuffles with D Morrison
Andrew Hughes
25-Feb-2013
Alex Bowden's cleverly conceived expose earlier this week was not only jolly funny, it had the additional virtue of being informative. After being given the inside scoop on how KP's team of advisors go about their work, everything is clear. What other explanation could there be for his decision to take a job as commentator at the World Twenty20, than that a coin had been tossed in a Durban hotel room. A rational response to such an offer at this particular career moment would surely be a polite no. But the coin had spoken.
It is an intriguing prospect. I'm not sure if Danny Morrison has been enlisted for this particular Asian jolly, but the prospect of a Pietersen-Morrison commentary axis holds a terrible fascination, like the entrance to a recently uncovered ancient Egyptian tomb or perhaps the opening scenes of a notorious horror film. It will be dark, it will be spine-chilling and there will be a certain amount of screaming, but you'd still like to know how it turns out.
Then again, given Kevin's somewhat less-than-affable personality, how long will it be before he has alienated his fellow microphone jockeys? Viewers tuning in for some top-quality Twenty20 action might instead find themselves treated to long awkward silences, showy on-air resignations and the occasional scuffle in the booth.
Full postOf patriotism and green suede jackets
Sorry, no, England are not among the greatest teams ever
Andrew Hughes
25-Feb-2013
Last year there were people (cricket journalists admittedly, but I've checked and they still count as people) who believed that England were one of the greatest sides in Test cricket. That's okay, though. People believe all sorts of things. R Kelly, like Icarus, believed he could fly. It's only when you act on your irrational beliefs that the problems start. For R Kelly, it was an execrable song. For Icarus, the consequences were even more unpleasant.
But in the afterglow of last summer's walkover against Team BCCI, one or two hacks committed their crazy notions to paper. There it was, set down in black and white, an ill-advised love letter we knew they would one day regret: England were one of the greatest Test sides ever. The team of Cook, Trott and Bresnan wedged into the cricket pantheon next to Bradman's Immortals, Clive Lloyd's Invincibles and Steve Waugh's Disintegrators.
So, in the light of recent and not-quite-so-recent events, we are now presented with a conundrum. On the one hand, England's current lot are one of the greatest teams ever. On the other, they've lost five of their last 11 matches. As Mr Spock would tell you, logically one of these can't be true. Perhaps it's the second one. Maybe they haven't really lost five Tests this year? Hang on, I'll check. Yep. Turns out it was six.
Full postHow to write an end-of-season report
Here are both sides - with galaxy bumps and xenophobia
Andrew Hughes
25-Feb-2013
As a fan of violent and traumatic Jacobean tragedy, I've rather enjoyed the last week of brutal plot twists, ominous whispering and occasional off-stage eye-gouging. Andrew Strauss has played the role of genial monarch, David Collier the sinister schemer and Kevin Pietersen is naturally the tragic hero, doomed by his own character flaws and inability to stop talking: "2b or nt 2b KP?!!! #hardtobeme"
And cricket hacks have been grateful for such rich material. It's too early to start complaining about the Champions League, so normally by this stage of a series, the poor scribblers are ferreting about at the bottom of the news barrel, reduced to profiling the touring team's nutritionist or bashing out a swift 500 words on whether anyone can remember a soggier summer than this one (the last one, usually).
Unfortunately, all of the gossip and intrigue had to be put on hold so we could have another Test match this weekend, but no mere game of cricket could live up to the story of Kevin I (Part VI) and even though he wasn't there, he was everywhere. SKY's latest gadget, for instance, is a hologrammatic KP which they superimpose onto Jonny Bairstow every time the deputising redhead does anything, just to see how well KP would have done it if he had been playing. Which he isn't.
Full postThe twin threats of stupidity and insanity
Cricket is reeling from l'affaire Pietersen, and now there's the whole Bolt thing
Andrew Hughes
25-Feb-2013
I can't say that cricket has gone mad; I'm not a psychiatrist. But I think it needs to talk. And possibly some stronger medication. The last week has clearly been a cry for help.
Let's start with the attempted career suicide of Mr Kevin Pietersen. A few days ago it seemed that England's most talented willow swinger was the victim of ECB bullying, and so, naturally, I was in his camp. And then we found out the real problem. KP had been thumbing derogatory messages about his captain to the opposition. After pausing for a brief face-palm interlude, I packed up my metaphorical tent and made a discreet exit.
When it comes to bad PR, Kevin is a natural in all media; a true allrounder. Whether he's speaking, tweeting or texting, he has the Dan Quayle touch: the knack of saying exactly the wrong thing to the wrong person at the wrong time. Never mind video apologies, the smartest thing he could do is to hand over his iPhone and laptop for safekeeping until the end of his international career, or next Monday, whichever comes first.
Full postWhy cricket's better than the Olympics
Firstly, there's the wonderful commentary we enjoy
Andrew Hughes
25-Feb-2013
Like a holiday romance, or a summer job with the mafia, the Olympics has led some of us to do things we would not normally do and of which, with the benefit of hindsight, we might not be particularly proud (for example, those unofficial Team GB lederhosen I bought from a man in the pub were definitely a mistake). Multi-coloured five-ring fever has taken over the internet, the brains of newspaper editors, the schedules of minor members of the royal family, and I'm afraid it's even taken over this cricket blog.
You see today's post is by way of confession. I have been neglecting the great game, tempted by the lure of Mandelson, Horlicks and Boris*. At first I was spellbound by the choices available at the touch of a remote. Isn't it marvellous, I would say to people at the bus stop. If you press the red button there's men's downhill freestyle shopping trolley and then just one click and it's 1500 metres inflatable raft-balancing live from the River Thames!
But earlier today, whilst watching the eighth-place handball play-off, I had an epiphany. No, an epiphany. As yet another hairy Scandinavian leapt off the ground and flung the toddler's sized football into the net from all of three yards away, a voice in my head that sounded a little like Richie Benaud asked me what on earth I was doing watching handball.
Full post