The Surfer

The current Regional Super50 in Guyana has been anything but. ESPN's live television coverage of the semi-finals made for painful watching before a global viewership. It was a shocking advertisement for West Indies cricket. Up until last night's final, there was only one total over 250 (against nine under 200)--and Jamaica's 255 for three against CCC was based almost solely on Chris Gayle's 147, the only hundred of the tournament.

No matter the electronic devices you use, that cannot be got from someone reading scores off a website.

One can’t remember in recent living memory seeing stadiums half-empty in a one-day international. To see vast empty spaces in Wankhede and then Eden Gardens only means that the overkill of cricket is having its effect and the spectators are finally saying enough is enough

Bradman was a man of his time, but it was another time. He was a Protestant, mason, Anglophile, monarchist and knight. He loved classical music, was an adept pianist and became a champion at squash. For most of his playing days he was a teetotaller and a non-smoker. In a highly social sport he was almost a hermit. Bill O'Reilly first met him in their early teens, played with and against him, jousted with him, studied him, wrote about him, but said near the end of his own life that he hardly knew him.

If political success meant getting into government, I could have done that 20 years ago, the first time I was offered ministership. But I want change in Pakistan. The whole idea was to fight the political mafias ... I was successful as a cricket captain because I had killer's instinct. I knew when the opposition was in my grasp. For the first time in 15 years, I feel that now. So my whole concentration is on politics.

Still a fine figure of a man, direct of gaze and striking of looks - bald now, but with cheekbones high and his trademark moustache still strong - Dennis Lillee gives the impression of a person who has enjoyed his life and continues to do so. He remains a real Aussie, one who can afford to show his softer and generous side more amply now that he doesn't have to live out the burden of ''If Lillee don't get yer, Thommo must''. It has been a privilege to know him; and to have batted against him, however ineptly.

Freedom. There's no other word to summarise how Adam Gilchrist played. When he became a Test cricketer in the month of his 28th birthday he stepped lightly onto the Gabba to face Shoaib Akhtar, whose thunderbolts had just sent off Steve Waugh and Ricky Ponting. In his stance, Gilchrist tapped his bat tremulously, but his feet did not move until the last moment, if at all. He had the self-belief to play late.

I have been saying this for ages. It is not that we have a group of players who are not good enough. This is the best generation we have had in terms of skill, coaching and preparation. They have got everything and as much as they deserve a huge amount of credit for the way they have played for the last two years in Test cricket, they have to be honest and accept they have got things wrong in one-day cricket.

Strategy in one-day cricket is shaped by the World Cup cycle. The next tournament, in 2015, will be in Australia where the pitches are flat and the ball doesn’t swing. You need power to manoeuvre the ball into the gaps, play spin and have the ability to post scores of 300. There will not be any green pitches and it will be boiling hot as well.

"Statistics-wise he [Sachin Tendulkar] may be but there are better players such as Ricky Pointing while Brian Lara is the best player that has ever been. When I bowled, I always found Brian Lara difficult." For Murali, no English batsman comes near Lara but he singles out Graham Thorpe, who retired from the international game in 2005 after scoring 6,744 runs in 100 Tests. "When I started, English batsmen did not play spin much, then they were not good enough. Nowadays English players play spinners better: reading spin from the hand, not playing off the pitch. Graham Thorpe was the best English batsman, he read my spin and played me well."

The Miller escapade I most admired was one of quick-thinking ingenuity. He was lounging around at mid-on and the pro-South Australian crowd was baiting him over the lack of interest he seemed to be taking in the thrashing NSW were administering. When a lofted shot went over his head, to the right, he loped after it, casually got his hands under the ball, then let it fall to the ground. The crowd erupted, calling Miller a mug. What they didn't realise was there'd been an early no-ball call under the old back-foot law. Once the batsmen saw the ball hit the turf, they called for a second run. Seizing his opportunity, Miller pounced on the ball, whirled and threw to the bowler's end. John Drennan was run out for nought.