The Long Handle

Wednesday, 24th November It’s the Ashes! Finally, the big day had dawned and SKY were beside themselves with excitement. Their pre-game package appeared to have been put together by a producer who’d overdosed on sugary sweets and espresso. Rushed interviews, curtailed opinions, frantic ad breaks, an orchestral crescendo, more ads, a chat with Graeme Swann, a few bars of thumping music, a fast-forward two minute review of the 1986-87 series, another advert and oh my god it’s the Ashes! The Ashes!

The whirlwind of hype reached a shrieking frenzy at around 23:45 GMT with an uptight Nasser and a rudely tanned Sir Beefy breathlessly chanting, “The pressure’s on Australia, never write off the Aussies, the pressure’s on Australia, never write off the Aussies…” whilst both looking as though they really badly needed to go pee. And when Strauss was out in the first over, the coverage moved into the higher registers where only bats, dolphins and highly sensitive dogs could enjoy it.

And then it got a bit dull. Admittedly, Test cricket isn’t designed for late-night television where constant stimulation is necessary to keep your audience from slipping into unconsciousness. But there’s another problem. Let’s be honest, this is a mid-ranking tiff between two unremarkable teams squabbling for the right to be considered not quite as good as Sri Lanka. By 00:20, my snacks depleted, I had begun to scratch a Trott-style line in my sofa. By 00:35 I was taking an interest in the shopping channel. By 00:45 I was asleep. It’s the Ashes! Wake me up when it’s over.

Saturday, 20th November At this time in the Ashes cycle, it can be all too easy to forget about those less fortunate than ourselves. But I ask you, dear reader, to put off the thrill of watching Steven Finn bowl to Marcus North for a little while longer and take a minute or two to help a worthy cause. I’m referring of course to the “Save Our Spinners” Appeal. The campaign was launched today with the help of a moving video featuring a montage of slow bowlers from Hogg to Hauritz standing hands on hips, gazing forlornly towards the midwicket boundary. You can’t fail to be moved by their plight.

Since 2007, this native Australian species has been in drastic decline. Attempts to rear new spinners have not gone well. Too often they are released into the harsh international environment to fend for themselves before they are ready, with tragic consequences. So it is vital that we act now. Please sign our petition urging the Australian selectors not to pick Xavier Doherty for the first Test and to return him to the safety of his natural Tasmanian habitat, where he can live out his career in peace. Together, we can make a difference.

Wednesday, November 21st The IPL may be the finest franchise-based Indian Twenty20 League in the world, but there is room for improvement. I’m thinking particularly of the unsatisfactory names with which many of the teams are burdened. I mean, Super Kings? A proper monarch should require no adjectival adornment. And Chargers? What does that mean? That they are in the habit of demanding a fee? That they are a team of electrical engineers? And don’t get me started on the redundant plural in the name of the team from Kolkata. Everyone knows that the Hoff worked alone.

Tuesday, 16th November IPL fans will be pleased to hear that preparations for the next installment of the world’s favourite Indian cricket league have been unaffected, despite all of the litigious shenanigans of recent weeks. There have though been one or two changes to the format. IPL 4 will consist of an initial round-robin stage of legal actions, counter suits and disciplinary hearings, at the end of which the last franchise to be disbanded will claim the title. In the event of two franchises being banned at the same time, the one with the fewest of Lalit Modi’s relatives on its board will be declared the winner.

Wednesday, 17th November Giles Clarke’s ongoing campaign to ensure that no one can see the England team play cricket today suffered a setback. It emerged that ITV will be showing highlights of the Ashes for free. Yes, you heard it right, for free. It’s a scandal. Fortunately, the highlights will be on the middle of the night and viewers will have to apply to the ECB for a special exemption certificate if they want to partake in this act of wanton selfishness. And of course, it’s on ITV, which is itself something of a deterrent.

The big question is who will be in the studio? Normally, the advantage of employing ex-internationals is that they can offer us valuable insights. But this is the Ashes. The only thing that the likes of Alec Stewart and Graeme Hick can tell us about playing against Australia is how to lose in the shortest possible time. They probably won’t even show up until the last Test, when, with the pressure off and expectations suitably low, the men from the nineties will turn in a stirring, but ultimately futile display of punditry.

Saturday, 13th November Diligently reading through the pre-Ashes news each morning is like taking a regular dose of cod liver oil. It’s hard to swallow, it leaves a nasty taste in your mouth, and it has no discernible benefits. I know players have certain media obligations, but every now and then couldn’t they just say “No comment” rather than straining for soundbites? Today we heard from the England captain, who appears to have fallen out with the English language and is treating it most roughly:

“The last thing we can do is get complacent and pat ourselves on the back, because we are ramping up our preparations.”

Now admittedly I didn’t go to Radley, but even an uneducated oaf like what I am can spot that this is devoid of meaning, a reheated soup of unrelated phrases and gristly jargon. Ramping? It sounds like something you might do to male sheep. Or possibly an extreme outdoor sport. But I have no idea what it has to do with preparing for a game of cricket, unless the plan is for Mr Strauss and chums to pile into a truck and drive as fast as they can towards a sharp incline. In which case, carry on chaps.

Tuesday, 9th November Historic news: the ICC have eradicated corruption! Things were looking dicey for a while there, but the chaps in Dubai have pretty much cleared the whole thing up thanks to a non-binding voluntary declaration. The breakthrough was confirmed by a smiling Haroon Lorgat as he descended the steps of his plane waving a sheet of A4. “I have in my hand a piece of paper,” he announced, promising “No fixing in our time!”

The news sparked scenes of global jubilation and long queues of match-fixers anxious to hand themselves in began to form at police stations around the world. One illegal bookie, who did not wish to be named, admitted that it would be all but impossible for him to operate in future, now that the ICC had brought out their declaration, so he was chucking it all in and starting a llama farm in the Andes.

Wednesday, 10th November Another day, another Ashes news item. Well, I say “news” but I’m using that word in its loosest possible sense. Like lumbering, exhausted boxers in the 12th round, the two sides in the pre-Ashes trash-talk title bout are punching on empty, flailing about with weary aspersions and jaded insinuations in the vague hope of hitting the target.

Saturday, 6th November Twenty-four hours have passed since we last heard from the lad from Pietermaritzburg, so to put that right, here’s KP. What’s happening Kevin?

“I’m on fire right now.”

Don’t panic. He isn’t really smouldering at the edges. He means, “I’m playing really well.” He’s talking in the dialect known as “sportsman”, you see. Still perhaps he’s missing an endorsement opportunity: KP’s Asbestos Trousers. “They keep me safe even when I’m on fire.” Or maybe not.

Saturday, 30th October The Ashes build-up is a carnival of maddening irrelevance; a gigantic sack of junk mail pushed, one envelope at a time, into the letterbox of your consciousness, a carousel of pointlessness upon which the same players go round and round and round, being prompted to say the same things over and over again until we no longer feel like rational human beings, and start to get the strange urge to bludgeon Stuart Broad to death with an enormous haddock. Or perhaps that’s just me.

Anyway, today’s brain fluff came courtesy of Doug Bollinger, who, under pressure to entertain us with his thoughts, came up with the revelation that he might not swear at Kevin Pietersen. He couldn’t rule out swearing at the other English batsmen, or indeed their wives, girlfriends or extended families, but he is not going to swear at KP. Indeed, he hopes to “put him off his game by not saying anything”.

I have my doubts about this strategy. I’m not sure that KP will necessarily go to pieces just because a bowler doesn’t swear at him. In my experience, having people not swear at you is on the whole to be preferred. But Dougie’s plan might have a wider application. I suspect that our quality of life would be greatly improved if, for the next three weeks, everyone concerned with English or Australian cricket adhered rigidly to a “not saying anything” policy.

Wednesday, 27th October I’m enjoying the action from the UAE. Pakistan may be depleted but today they were the clear winners in two important areas. Their fans had the best costumes (top marks to the man in green and white feathers) and their batsmen had the silliest dismissals. Akmal minor managed to detect some ambiguity in Misbah’s fairly unequivocal shout of “Nooooooo!”, Afridi once again attempted to be the first man to launch a cricket ball into space, and Imran Farhat, attacked by a mosquito, sent the wee beastie hurtling over the pavilion, missing the ball in the process but teaching that particular insect a lesson he won’t soon forget.

Inevitably, though, there’s always someone who has to spoil things for everyone else. The otherwise estimable Ramiz Raja breached UN Resolution 2101 (Deployment of Prohibited Clichés) by bringing buckets into proceedings where no buckets were required. After one edge had not quite carried to Graeme Smith, Ramiz informed us that he was “…surprised to see the ball miss his bucket-like hands”.

This particular simile is not only as irritating as an armchair stuffed with thistles, it is also vaguely insulting, implying that a player has an unfair advantage on account of the enormous pail-shaped receptacles on the ends of his arms.