The Surfer

The IPL's problem -- and the BCCI's too, by implication, as the two entities are so deeply entwined -- is that its administrators lack credibility when they aver they are seized of the matter. Their reassurances that action will be taken on the spot-fixing charges strike a feeble chord, not because they are not expected to take stern action against the offending threesome

The most unsettling aspect of all that has happened these last few days is the reminder that cricket's very structure, which affords its fans such joy, is so vulnerable to manipulation. Cricket is a series of discrete events, each initiated by the bowler. This gives cricket its unique rhythm; its space for the pause allows reflection. But, cruelly, it also allows these events to be remote-controlled.

For all I know, that may well be the case, and there could have been several good reasons to keep the scope of the enquiry away from public consumption. When the controversy broke, there seemed to be genuine hurt in Srinivasan's voice while answering questions from across television channels. And he's right too, when he says that the BCCI does not have the power to police all bookies across the country, but can only focus on educating its players. But given that the board is composed of several powerful politicians across most state associations, it is surely not beyond its power to institute a more comprehensive enquiry.

When scandals erupt, the guardians of the game seem more interested in protecting the viability of the tournament than in preserving the spirit of the sport. Those on the gravy train are quick to get into the time honoured 'few bad apples/rotten eggs' mode of defensiveness; in truth nobody really wants to know what goes on. The day after the scandal broke, the television coverage from the studio studiously ignored it and focused instead on 'guests' Sonakshi Sinha and Akshay Kumar while the dancing troupe jumped japangly in the background.

As strange as it might seem, most sportswriters would prefer to be confronted by a red-faced player or coach screaming invective than the modern equivalent: A tremulous message from a disempowered club "communications officer" who assumes we are as terrified of a disgruntled superstar as they are. Who surmise, often incorrectly, that we would be mortified to learn that "Nathan wasn't too happy with what you wrote at the weekend".

What seems to have been lost in terms of flight has perhaps been made up by the sheer variety of display: the traditional spin, the googly, the flipper, the doosra and the carrom ball, for example. Watching Narine mix them up is a delight. During this IPL season, I have even seen spinners bowl a couple of deliveries "seam-up" in the style of a medium-pace bowler

Watling doesn't publicly trumpet his achievements. Even on the field he could best be observed as buoyant or chirpy rather than extrovert. He appears reticent as far as keepers go, preferring to hear the thud of ball swallowed by gloves than his own voice. Besides, his statistics are doing the talking.

Being at Lord's, where I made a less-than-perfect start to my Test career, surrounded by very good mates and hearing that lovely applause from the crowd made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. I will never forget any of it. And there were other reasons why it was such an intense moment. There have been times in my career when I thought nothing like this would ever happen or could, when I'd been injured or dropped and wondered whether I would ever play for England again.

Admittedly, Botham was only 29 but he had already given his body a bit of a hammering - this, of course, is a reference to a back rebelling against such a heavy on-field workload. He reached 300 in seven years; he played Test cricket for eight more but in his last 30 Tests he took only 78 wickets at 37 apiece. In essence he became a batting all-rounder.

Watching an IPL game now can be torturous and tragically comic at the same time. Is a batsman adjusting a leg-guard sending a signal to bookie? Was a bowling change that didn't come off done so on the direction of a puppeteer on the outside? If viewed through the prism of suspicion, cricket will lose its reason to exist. That danger won't go away by shoving more of the game down our throats, garnished with song, dance and glamour. Our cricket needs a cuddle and an embrace. It needs to catch a breath.

Cricket, or for that matter any other popular sport, has never been a stranger to such scandals. From the time the Chicago White Sox "threw" the American baseball championship in 1919, sport has been fair game for fixers. And in India, where betting on sport other than horse racing is illegal, almost everybody following cricket has been aware that outrageously large sums of money were changing hands each time a big game was played. This was particularly so in Twenty20 cricket, which lends itself easily to spot fixing.

There are some athletes that choose to do the hard work, and there are others that face it front on and push the limits. Kath was certainly one that pushed her body to the limit. I would see her every morning and evening, before and after work, smashing herself at the Cricket NSW gym, and over the course of a few months she was one of the fittest players in the squad. It was around September of 2010 that she started to experience back pain. Being a private person and a hard trainer she just kept her head down and focused on training. I still remember the day that I was hanging around in the physio room in November 2010 when the physio at the time, Kate Blackwell (Alex's twin sister) asked Kath what her symptoms were. "I can't feel my leg," she said casually.