The Surfer

Batting itself is a constant examination, and Hayden has nothing to prove. He could retire tomorrow safe in the knowledge that he has given outstanding service. History is likely to regard him as among the most imposing opening batsmen to represent the wide brown land. But he is not ready to be put to pasture; he reckons that at 37, a late starter such as him has a few more campaigns left in him.

When the situation warranted solidity, Gambhir offered it, when Tendulkar was looking good, he provided security and after tea he burst forth with strokes of great pedigree, more than doubling his score. And as the first day drew to a close, he played for the morrow showing what a good team man he is; the opening batsman was ready to take the new ball for his team on Day 2.

It may be that the issue will settle down and there should, for once, be slight sympathy for the ECB. They played their hand ineptly but it was probably a hand they had to play. When Sir Allen came calling they worked out that if England did not take the money, someone else would. Sir Allen might have said jolly nice things about the ECB, but so long as he could lure an international side he was probably not worried who they were. The details were hammered out quickly – and much made of the need to help West Indies cricket.

In 55 Test matches since their introduction to the arena in 2000, Bangladesh have won precisely one of them, a 2005 match against a Zimbabwe team already well on the slippery slope to turmoil and virtual ruin, in line with the nation itself.

Unlike Sri Lanka who, by the ninth year of their Test existence in 1991, lost just one of their six matches against New Zealand, England and Pakistan – a compelling here-to-stay signal – Bangladesh have made no such strides. They may well have lurched backwards.

With developments this week suggesting that the contract is more about Stanford and his brand than any altruistic concerns about West Indies cricket, it is clear that the ECB has been, at best, naive and at worst outmanoeuvred again.

The crowd roared and the Indian tricolour waved, but vast swathes of green, blue, red and orange seats were empty, shimmering brightly in the afternoon sun. If you needed a statement about Test cricket's health, you couldn't have got a more damning one. Only about 20,000 had braved the trek past the many security checks to get inside a stadium that now seats 45,000. Many might have been in bad shape after the Diwali revelries the night before, but in a city of millions you certainly expected better for a match-up that is now Test cricket's heavyweight clash.

Before the Delhi Test, Sachin Tendulkar spent hours in the nets facing a shaved and taped tennis ball fired at him by the coach. Concerned about his technique against swinging and rising deliveries, and aware that the pitch was likely to be faster than forecast, he wanted to be prepared. To that end, he ironed out the kinks that had crept into his game. Twice he had lost his wicket to loose strokes and once to an outswinger. It was not good enough.

Tendulkar was majestic. Indeed, he has seldom batted better. Called to the crease after Rahul Dravid had indulged in an indiscretion that imperils his position, Tendulkar swiftly settled into his work. Immediately, it was obvious that his mind was alert and his feet were moving quickly into position. As usual, he broke his duck with a neat tuck to leg. Lots of players can improvise on the front foot but none are as creative as the Indian when stepping back. Several times he retreated, examined the ball and, finding nothing untoward, directed it into a gap. Often he was happy to take a single, a currency he has never undervalued. Now and then he pressed for more, once leaning back to guide the ball over the slips, a daring offering previously reserved for one-day matches. It was an astonishing stroke to play on the first morning of a vital Test, and a bad sign for the visitors.

It would also be pertinent to highlight the fact that Mudassar Nazar, a very experienced former Test player and still in the age zone for a traditional coaching assignment, has only recently been appointed as a coach by the ICC for its academy in Dubai. If he is good enough to be a coach for the ICC — as I am certain he is — should he not have been good enough as a coach for Pakistan? And going on from there, as a Pakistani, should not the PCB have made the first move to acquire his services?

Procter was at the centre of a storm during the New Year Test in Sydney this year when he relied only on the evidence of three Australian players in finding Indian off-spinner Harbhajan Singh guilty of calling Andrew Symonds a "monkey". Why do I make reference to this? Because there is no doubt that similar pressures, especially related to transformation, are associated with the national convenor's post.