The Long Handle
No more samosas for Samit
The allrounder has been brainwashed into the England team way of life
Andrew Hughes
25-Feb-2013
Thursday, 6th October
England’s official Liposuction Coordinator has had his leave cancelled and crates of reduced-flavour celery drink have been delivered to a certain Nottingham residence. Yes, the game is up for county cricket’s favourite fugitive from fitness and he is at last in compliance with Flower Directive 1.01: You Must Be Able To See Your Toes At All Times (Now Give Me One Hundred Press-Ups, Fatty).
Quite right, Samit, I said to myself, whilst munching on an éclair, about time you put the effort in. And it was, of course, inevitable. You don’t mess with Team England. They’re a cross between a Neapolitan crime family and a Royal Marines boot camp; The Godfather with energy drinks. Paul Collingwood once thought he could retire a little bit. Now his career is wearing a concrete overcoat and has sunk without trace.
Still it is a little sad to hear Samit spouting Flowerspeak. Train harder. Do the work. Put the hours in. Put the work in. It sounds exhausting yet at the same time monotonous, a little too much like working for a living. Some of us cling fondly to the idea that cricket should be played by people for whom a bit of a thrash with the bat is just a pleasant diversion from an afternoon of sipping cocktails, playing canasta with the French ambassador and swimming the Hellespont.
Full postThe Ball-Tampering Club and other tales
Who cares what bowlers put on balls as long as they don't eat 'em
Andrew Hughes
25-Feb-2013
Sunday, 2nd October
What’s the first rule of Ball-Tampering Club? Don’t talk about Ball-Tampering Club.
In his candid interview on the subject, Umar Gul happened to mention the names of a couple of English players and with a weary inevitably, silliness ensued. Journalists had to pretend that this was controversial, England’s middle captain Alastair Cook, had to pretend to be offended. and then Umar had to pretend that he hadn’t said what he’d said.
But isn’t it time we all stopped clutching our handbags and reaching for the smelling salts every time someone mentions ball-tampering? We’ve coped with players on drugs, slappings on the field of play, routine verbal abuse, various kinds of corruption and Shane Warne’s new hairstyle. Are we really that shocked by the idea of a bowler altering the condition of the ball?
Full postThat repugnant numeral 3
Why would England's cricket administrators consider fraternising with this puny number?
Andrew Hughes
25-Feb-2013
Wednesday, 28th September
Next summer there are to be 13 one-day internationals in Britain, which is obviously a good thing. Fifty-over cricket is splendid. You get a proper day out, coloured shirts, an eclectic mix of bad ‘90s dance music on the PA system, no fussing about with floodlights and a guaranteed result. If it were up to me, I’d scatter them across the fixture list like sparkly confetti. Players don’t like them, but what else would they be doing? Shopping for sunglasses? Arranging barbeques.
Journalists say that scheduling so many one-day internationals is like flogging a dead horse. I disagree. The horse is full of beans and the occasional thwack across its hind quarters merely encourages more mileage from the beast. It is Test cricket that has been lying in the straw, not touching its hay and refusing to get up. And rather than calling in the vet, the various cricket boards are standing around, shuffling their feet, looking awkwardly at the ground and waiting for it to expire.
Because here’s the real scandal about next summer’s calendar: there will be three Tests against South Africa. That’s right. Three. De La Soul were wrong. Three is most definitely not the magic number. It is an entirely inadequate number, a number that we should look down upon and make those dismissive sniffing noises that the French are so good at. Three? Ha, I cannot even bring myself to look at you, you paltry and pathetic series of puny proportions.
Full postIntroducing the Hussey Diet
Saturday, 24th September Those of us who are hauling around a little more personal freight than we’d like are always on the lookout for inventive ways to lessen the burden on our belt buckles, so the news that a man called Mike had recently lost
Andrew Hughes
25-Feb-2013
Saturday, 24th September
Those of us who are hauling around a little more personal freight than we’d like are always on the lookout for inventive ways to lessen the burden on our belt buckles, so the news that a man called Mike had recently lost four kilos in two days was very exciting. But having looked into the Hussey Diet, I should warn unwary fatties, his new plan, Lose Weight And Play Till You’re Forty-Eight, is a tough one to follow.
Those of us who are hauling around a little more personal freight than we’d like are always on the lookout for inventive ways to lessen the burden on our belt buckles, so the news that a man called Mike had recently lost four kilos in two days was very exciting. But having looked into the Hussey Diet, I should warn unwary fatties, his new plan, Lose Weight And Play Till You’re Forty-Eight, is a tough one to follow.
For a start, there’s a lot of preparation involved. You’ll need to take up professional cricket in order to get selected for the Australian Test team. And then it gets a lot tougher. Stage two involves flying out to Sri Lanka and batting for several hours in extreme humidity whilst wearing a heavy hat and an unnecessary amount of padding as other people take it in turns to throw leather balls at you.
On reflection, I think I’ll just reduce my daily doughnut ration and see how it goes.
Full postWho is Allen Stanford?
What will your answer be if your child asks you this question?
Andrew Hughes
25-Feb-2013
Wednesday, 21st September
One day, perhaps one day soon, my daughter may come up to me and ask, with the innocent curiosity of the seven-year-old:
“Daddy, why are England playing the West Indies at the wrong end of September in a couple of Twenty20 matches that are entirely without context?”
To which I will obviously reply that it is because of a man called Allen Stanford.
Full postThe unique appeal of the Champions League
Where else would you learn of a team called Ruhuna?
Andrew Hughes
25-Feb-2013
Sunday, 18th September
To some people the Champions League is like a big fat slug lurking at the bottom of your garden. It isn’t particularly attractive, you don’t see the point of it and you can get through the autumn fine without ever seeing it. But every part of the cricket ecosystem has its place, and to many of us the Champions League has become as familiar a part of the cricket calendar as a Shahid Afridi retirement or Somerset not quite winning a trophy.
It’s a jumble of flavours, a mix of cricket cultures that you just don’t get anywhere else. For instance, if there is a more unlikely cricket match this year than Somerset v Kolkata Knight Riders, I’ll eat Duncan Fletcher’s sunglasses.
And there’s something for everyone. You can have fun spotting players you thought had retired (good grief, Sanath is here!) and learn about teams you’ve never heard of before (welcome to my brain, Ruhuna, I’ll forget about Ronnie Irani to make room for you).
Full postFarewell to the Disappointing Museum
And hello to the reign of the comedy captain
Andrew Hughes
25-Feb-2013
Tuesday, 13th September
I don’t think I’m speaking out of turn when I say that the Indian cricket team have been a bit of a disappointment this summer. In fact they’ve taken us on a tour of the Disappointment Museum, which included four extended diaromas of disappointment and six smaller exhibitions, each one slightly more disappointing than the last, followed by a visit to the Damp Squib Gift Shop and a cup of disappointingly weak tea in the Dear God Let It End Soon Cafeteria.
And newspapers too have had a thin time of it. Sachin not getting that thing that we don’t talk about in case we jinx it meant that once they’d run the “England are now quite good” story a couple of times, there was very little left to say. In particular, there have been thin-pickings controversy-wise. MS Dhoni’s generosity at Trent Bridge spoiled a perfectly good diplomatic incident and neither Vaselinegate nor Donkeygate really caught on, despite the best efforts of all concerned.
So with only a week to go until the cold bath water of India’s tour finally trickles down the plughole of fate, time is running out for desperate hacks to make a big splash. Hence today’s attempt to turn the Indian team’s non-attendance at the ICC Awards ceremony into a Big Event. The details are thoroughly yawnsome. It was either an administrative blunder or a diplomatic absence. Either way, who cares?
Full postMaths 1, India 0
Arithmetic: jumping up and biting cricketers on the bottom for nearly 20 years now
Andrew Hughes
25-Feb-2013
Sunday, 11th September
The forces arrayed against India this summer have been formidable. The fixture list, the England team, the fragility of the human body, and the weather have all conspired to make this the least successful visit to these islands since Julius Caesar spent a late summer break shivering in a tent on the Sussex coast.
And now even mathematics has turned its back on the tourists. Anyone who has tried to dry their washing in England in September knows how umpires Erasmus and Illingworth felt today. Is it really raining? It is just spitting? Is it worth fetching your underpants in again? Is it brightening up over there?
But amidst all the traipsing in and out, the shaking of umbrellas and the holding out of rainfall-measuring palms, India appeared to have won. That was, until maths jumped out from behind the scoreboard and yelled “Surprise! You got it wrong!” before stamping all over their victory cake and high-fiving Alastair Cook.
Full postLet's rename the Gaddafi Stadium
Andrew Hughes welcomes all suggestions, though he has the best one himself
Andrew Hughes
25-Feb-2013
Wednesday, 7th September
There are many strange stories in our great game, but few are stranger than the Legend of the Pink Balls. Long ago, back in the mists of time, men first spoke of cricket balls that were unlike any other. They were spherical, that much is true. They had a stitchy bit around the middle. You could rub them on your trousers. And if you dropped one on your little toe, you hopped around making strange sweary noises for a couple of minutes, just like with normal cricket balls.
But these balls were different. They were pink. Pinker than a fuschia blancmange served in the back of the Pink Panther’s pink Cadillac. No one really knew why they were pink. But the legend was that one day, perhaps before the next ice age, they would be used in a Test match and that when that happened, the night sky would be lit up by floodlights and the people would come in their thousands to marvel. Will the legend ever come true? Or is just a fairy story for schoolchildren and journalists?
Thursday, 8th September
Life is full of surprises. Who’d have thought that naming a stadium after a brutal dictator would eventually turn out to be a bit of a PR problem? After all, no one complained when Lahore City Council unveiled the Genghis Khan Equestrian Centre or when they inaugurated the Emperor Nero Leisure Centre. But with the man himself currently hiding somewhere in North Africa, disguised as a cactus, it’s probably time to think about a new name for the Gaddafi Stadium.
Full postA positive spin on Donkeygate
Isn’t a field where an ass belongs, after all?
Andrew Hughes
25-Feb-2013
Donkeys have been a natural and integral part of cricket since the Chappell-Ganguly era at least
© AFPSaturday, 3rd September
You’ve got to feel for MS Dhoni. We’ve all had holidays like this. Trapped in a caravan, a tent or a four-star hotel, surrounded by the same old faces, going slowly insane with nothing to do but watch Alastair Cook bat for weeks at a time, listening to everyone complaining about their aches and pains, and counting the days till it’s time to go home. And then, just when it seems things might be looking up, it starts to rain.
I can remember following England tours that scored just as high on the angstometer, in which the only sounds you heard were the clatter of wickets, the roar of the home crowd, and the stamping of passports as another batch of trembling replacements arrived at immigration control. As it happens, Nasser Hussain and his fragile fingers featured in many of those tours, so you’d think he would understand the tourists’ pain. Instead, his loose talk of donkeys has caused the summer’s third “Gate”.
But it isn’t always a good idea to take cricket folk literally. When KP called Graeme Smith a muppet, he didn’t mean that he believed the South African captain was made of cloth and operated by strings. When a commentator tells us that Sehwag has launched himself at a short one, he is not implying that rocket fuel was involved. Then there are the phrases like “impetuous hooker” and “flashing outside off stump” that could lead to all kinds of litigious misunderstanding if they were taken literally.
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