The Surfer

The chap who gave Mike Griffith his handle was the inestimable Mike Jackson, hero of several stories written by the equally inestimable PG Wodehouse long before Bertie Wooster and his manservant Jeeves were created. Griffith is indubitably proud of the association, though it continues to cause problems even at 68. Banks, lawyers and what might be called official organisations have made a habit of sending back documents asking him to amend it by ensuring his full and proper name is included.

They have never quite brought themselves to say as much but the tone has been this: "Dear Sir, please do not be so juvenile. This is a serious transaction and we note that you have called yourself Mike, an abbreviated, boy's name. Please be sure in future to append your full given name."

Hashim Amla has made 52 per cent of his Test runs in boundaries and sixes. Jonathan Trott has made 44 per cent of his that way, Alastair Cook 46 per cent, Ricky Ponting 48 per cent, Kevin Pietersen 54 per cent. Watson has a percentage above all of them at 57. Only freaks like Sehwag with 67 per cent and Chris Gayle with 75 per cent go beyond him, and they each have two triple centuries in Test cricket. The stats suggest two things about the way Watson plays: that he needs boundaries to build his score, and that he gets out trying to hit them once the field goes back. Both are symptomatic of a player who either doesn't look at where the field is, or who can't keep hitting the gaps. That's guesswork, though. Perhaps Shane is just a rebours.

While the Royals retained him the next year [2010], he was picked by the Pune Warriors in their maiden season in 2011. He played only one match then, and none in 2012.

“That’s when the taunts began,” says Kamran. From being invited as chief guest to every event in his village, the cricketer has now become an easy target. “It’s almost like they were waiting for me to fall,” he says. “Not many people here understand cricket. They now tell me how useless I am, and how my career is over because I chuck.”

They are certainly no match for England on paper, they are still to shake off the self doubt created by years of failure on the field and in-fighting off it and their captain continues under relentless pressure to prove his worth as a player. Yet Darren Sammy and his players have demonstrated a constant, refreshing, 100 per cent commitment to their responsibilities. It has not always been so of late.

As the increased, involved crowds in the recent home series against Australia revealed they are winning back the support of those who had become disillusioned with the repeated bickering between the West Indies Cricket Board (WICB) and the West Indies Players Association (WIPA) and, not least, by the losses in the preceding four series since the turn of the 21st century in England, the oldest foe.

The England and Wales Cricket Board is beginning to monitor the players’ social background, but it would not offer an official comment beyond pointing out that 4,000 state schools and 1.5 million pupils have been introduced to cricket under their Chance to Shine programme.The trouble here though is that only 5 per cent have progressed to club cricket.

Only one batsman from an English state school is anywhere near the Test team: Ravi Bopara, 26, who spent the winter as England’s reserve batsman but started this season with a century for Essex at Headingley, while his team-mates could hardly lay a bat on the moving ball.

By setting these two on divergent paths, NZC painted themselves into a corner, nailed their feet to the floor, set the timer on the bomb and then put on dark glasses in the hope that it would all go away. They forced themselves to choose between Buchanan's scientific vision for NZ cricket or Wright's more intuitive, commonsense approach.

That decision was maybe made easier as, when faced with ending Wright's contract or those of Buchanan and his small army of Australian assistants, the good of New Zealand cricket maybe came down to dollars and cents.

Clarke's loyalty to Haddin might seem straightforward, indeed compulsory for any decent leader. Still, it provides another indication of how quickly and comfortably Clarke has grown into the captaincy.

The other, more compelling, sign of Clarke's leadership is his intuitive stewardship. The kudos Ricky Ponting received in his early days as captain was the consequence of results achieved by a stellar squad. Clarke seems to have a more profound influence on what happens on the field.

A birthday tweet by Tendulkar summed up the new tone deafness: "Hello friends, you can join my birthday chat and send me your wishes at 12.30pm today. Dial 5100100 from your Airtel phone." However blasé fans become about endorsements, there is something a little off about a great man leveraging his birthday to produce a revenue stream for his sponsors. It almost begged the question: "And how do I say happy birthday if I'm on Vodafone?"

Someone about to be canonised ought to count the cost of individual self-promotion at a time of collective defeat. A sportsman as adored as Tendulkar owes it to himself and his admirers to rein in his handlers when they crank the machine too hard.

Call it a Sisyphean tragedy of the Indian kind, a tragedy still in the making, slowly, imperceptibly. As Tendulkar’s body becomes vulnerable to the ravages of age — eyesight weaker, hand and eye coordination a little out of sync — he will increasingly fail to intercede for the Indian team, as happened so frequently on the last tours of England and Australia. Yet our abiding faith in the god of cricket will lure us to hope as the diminutive champion steps out on the field to bail out his struggling team. Should he get dismissed cheaply, as is likely to happen more frequently than before, the fickle among us will cite parliamentary records to wonder why taxpayers should bear the expenses of a rich man who is mostly absent from the Rajya Sabha, as is likely because of the crowded schedule of Indian cricket.