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The Long Handle

The accuracy addict's latest fix

DRS isn't doing it anymore

Andrew Hughes
Andrew Hughes
25-Feb-2013
Wednesday, 31st August Don’t ever gamble, readers, it is a perilous and painful business, as risky and as futile a pastime as setting fire to your hair and standing in the garden waiting for it to rain. It is like putting a five-pound note into a post box in the hope that it will somehow be delivered back to you and that in the meantime it will have turned into a ten-pound note. At least it is the way I do it.
The failed gambler always has an accomplice, a stooge who can take all the blame. Today his name was Virat. It is a shame when a career that promised so much takes such a disappointing turn. I feel a lump in my throat when I remember watching the wee fella scoring all those runs for the Royal Challengers Bangalore. One day, I thought, one day, I’ll bet on you to top score for India in a meaningless Twenty20 game in the north west of England.
And today his moment had come. What better opportunity for him to emblazon his name across Duncan Fletcher’s frontal lobes than to top-score for India (at 5-1.) So what happened? Nudge, nudge, nudge, swipe, oh dear. There are some things in life you should never try to pull: Steven Seagal’s ponytail; a hippopotamus through a revolving door and a ball short and wide outside the off stump unless you are Viv Richards. Are you Viv Richards, Virat? No, you are not. Don’t do it again.
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Saeed Ajmal's secret weapon

Is it the one that might or the one that won't?

Andrew Hughes
Andrew Hughes
25-Feb-2013
Wednesday, 24th August We all like to see the cut shot. It’s a fine shot. However, the traditional view is that it is seen to best effect when played at a ball short and wide of the off stump. Well Phil Hughes isn’t having that. He believes the cut shot is the only shot a girl could ever need. He plays it to short balls, straight balls, bouncers, beamers and yorkers. He uses the cut shot to open cans of beer, mix pancakes and dry the dishes, which perhaps explains why his appearance on Masterchef Australia ended so messily.
He plays the cello with the cut shot, flips burgers with it and when he proposes he will go down on one knee in a fancy restaurant, have a waiter toss him the ring and smack it into the dessert trolley with a flashing blade. And now he’s back, to cut the Sri Lankans into ribbons, at least, until they work him out. It’s just a pity that Lasith Malinga has retired from Test cricket and we have been denied the sight of wee Hughesie attempting to cut one of the Slinger’s slow bouncers from a seated position
Thursday, 25th August Saeed Ajmal has a secret weapon, a new delivery that he is not telling anyone about. These little escalations of the spin-bowling arms race are always fun. It reminds me of the Soviets and Americans trying to outdo one another with ludicrous secret weapons boasts, such as Ronald Reagan’s Star Wars toy or Kruschev’s claim that he had replaced the island of Cuba with a Cuba-shaped cheese that come the hurricane season would blow up to Florida and turn the Sunshine State into the Fondue State.
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An odd cricket ritual

Aren't there better ways to frighten a batsman than pretend to throw a ball at him that he knows you know that he knows you're not going to throw?

Andrew Hughes
Andrew Hughes
25-Feb-2013
Wednesday, 17th August The Champions League will soon be with us. But this year the ECB (motto: “Show Me The Money”) are not going to let any counties play in it unless they are paid before the tournament. Quite right. You should always get the money upfront, then if something goes wrong, and you don’t actually turn up or, to take a hypothetical example, the person paying you turns out to be an international fraudster, you can always hide it under your mattress and deny everything.
Thursday, 18th August While watching Sreesanth pretend that he wanted to throw the ball at KP today, it occurred to me that this is one of modern cricket’s odder rituals. Why would you pretend to do something that you almost certainly aren’t going to do, that even if you did wouldn’t achieve any purpose, and for which you’d have to apologise immediately?
If the intention is to frighten the batsmen, there are surely better ways. You could for instance, tell him that you’re in love with him and that you want to stop the madness for a moment so you can share a hug. You could bring out a microphone and invite him to say a few words. You could warn him about the tarantula on his shoulder.
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The Robert De Niro of Indian cricket

The man who is Fred Trueman in Mark Ealham’s body

Andrew Hughes
Andrew Hughes
25-Feb-2013
Saturday, 13th August I was wrong about Praveen Kumar. I thought he would be squad-filler, a scorecard padder-out, the man who dries the handkerchief with which Zaheer wipes his brow. I knew him as a growly plodder, a dibbly dobbler, a bit of a tail-end thrasher. Typical Twenty20 star, you know the type: all goatee and no chest hair.
I was wrong. After three successive Waterloos (or if you like, a Waterloo, a Trafalgar and a retreat from Moscow) he is the only one still standing, albeit with a wonky ankle. That injury is not surprising, considering he has hit the bowling crease 951 times already this summer in exchange for 15 of the toughest wickets runs can buy.
He’s like Fred Trueman in Mark Ealham’s body. He trots in off a few gentle steps, offers a Pringle-esque unfurling of the right wrist, followed by a Ray Lindwall follow-through and the stare of an angry father who knows you’ve been hanging round his daughter. He’s the Robert de Niro of Indian cricket. He’s tougher than Ganguly and cooler than Dhoni. Praveen for captain, I say.
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Terminator 5, starring the England team

Ruthlessness that can be packaged into a Hollywood summer blockbuster

Andrew Hughes
Andrew Hughes
25-Feb-2013
Tuesday, 9th August It seems that Kamran Akmal is being shunted out of the Pakistan team, an incredibly short-sighted move that can only have been taken by the kind of narrow-minded person who obsesses over trivial details like runs and catches. Yes he’s dropped a clanger or seven over the years but he was never dull, and he had an astonishingly brutal cover drive. Like Hot Spot, he doesn’t always function as intended but cricket is less entertaining without him.
Thursday, 11th August Xavier Doherty has packed a decade and a half’s worth of disillusionment into eight months. A sudden and unexpected promotion, a short but eventful Test career and already he’s concentrating on one-day cricket. In six months time he’ll be restricting himself to Twenty20, applying to go on Masterchef Australia and accepting an invitation to join the crack commentary firm of Heals, Tubs and Slats Ltd.
Being an Australian spinner must be like auditioning for one of those reality talent shows. You rehearse for months, you get a telephone call out of the blue, and then when you’re on the stage, you’ve only got 30 seconds to do your thing. One bum note or unintentional long hop, the buzzers sound and off you go. Bye bye, Xavier, you’re not quite right for us. Come back and try again next year.
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Premature triumphalism? No chance

England wouldn't dream of doing that

Andrew Hughes
Andrew Hughes
25-Feb-2013
Wednesday, 3rd August Last night I was visited by the Spirit of Cricket. He wasn’t in a very good mood. He complained vigorously that the Ian Bell thing had nothing to do with him, that as far as he was concerned, the fellow was dozier than a sloth on sleeping tablets and that if he’d been Dhoni, he’d have waited till Bell got back to the wicket and then rescinded his rescinded appeal, just to teach the blighter a lesson.
After he had calmed down, I told him I was about to post my 200th Long Handle entry and asked what he thought I should write. He thought for a moment, then he said, “Write what you like, it’s only Page 2. But whatever you do, don’t insult Ganguly.”
Thursday, 4th August A realistic view of our place in the great scheme of things is a hallmark of the English nation from Alfred the Great, a failed baker, to David Cameron, who has spent much of his first year as prime minister apologising and publicly changing his mind. We are a moderately sized, oddly shaped, frequently damp island nation whose primary role these days is to bear the brunt of the Atlantic weather for the sake of mainland Europe. We’ve lost an empire but we can still serve as an umbrella.
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