The Surfer

Life after cricket?

It still hurts Narendra Hirwani that he could have played more for India

Sriram Veera
25-Feb-2013
When I put my head on the pillow at night I think about how I could have done more with my ability. Not playing for India for an extended period hurts. I am a very emotional person. The fact is that I missed out. They did not pick me when I could have been a success.
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All roses this county season?

So county cricket kicks off once more, but will the Ashes effect be necessarily beneficial, or is the future actually a bleak picture

But some, like Christopher Martin-Jenkins in The Times can take heart from the fact that county cricketers can reap the benefits. Nevertheless, he acknowledges that domestic cricket is not without its problems – particularly with umpires and scorers at the moment – although he suggest resolutions are around the corner.
A quartet of county captains - Mark Chilton, Mark Butcher, Chris Adams and Jeremy Snape – offer a different perspective with their thoughts on the upcoming county season in The Independent.
And to read Andrew McGlashan’s take on it all, click here
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Cracks in batting

Ponting's genius fails to obscure cracks in batting , writes Chloe Saltau in the Age .

Sriram Veera
25-Feb-2013
They might have escaped embarrassment in Dhaka, but the spluttering form of most of Australia's batsmen means the world's No. 1 team can no longer be backed with such certainty to dig itself out of trouble.
Andrew Stevenson, writing in the Sydney Morning Herald, believes Bangladesh's brave fightback has showed that they're no longer cannon fodder.
Beaten, Bangladesh still managed to look like winners. Or, if not quite like winners, Test cricket's 10th-ranked side - with a single victory to their name - had seen enough fear in the faces of their supposedly invincible adversary to know they had arrived as players and as a team.
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The Curator Who Knew the Job

Dhruba Hazarika went to the Nehru stadium in Guwahati before the match to meet Sunil Barua, the curator

Sriram Veera
25-Feb-2013
I stared at his knuckles, fascinated by the small, round hardened fleshy blobs on the back of the palms. They were hands that had caressed soil and earth, felt the bricks and the stones, hands that had dug into bags of urea, fingers that had separated dubori grass from the rest. It was not just a farmer’s hands. There were the hands of a sculptor and I kept on watching, fascinated.
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