Tour Diary
A delicate matter of the 'unmentionables'
Siddhartha Vaidyanathan and David Lloyd get talking on something that's normally not discussed
Siddhartha Vaidyanathan
25-Feb-2013
“It’s the only injury in cricket which brings tears to your eyes,” says former England batsman David Lloyd, remembering a horrific Perth Test 33 years ago when a good-length ball from Jeff Thomson clattered into his “unmentionables”. Lloyd, who later went on to coach England before settling into a commentary job, remembers the day vividly, when fielders chuckled despite him writhing in pain. “Even now I lose my voice every December”.
Opening the batting on a “lightning” quick WACA pitch, Lloyd had moved on to 17 in the second innings when the moment arrived. Thomson, an unknown commodity before the series but a terror once it got underway, “nipped one back” and found a most delicate target. “The box that I was using at that time was totally inadequate for the job at the time and it actually split,” Lloyd recalled wide-eyed. “All the contents of the inside of the box (let’s put it that way) found their way through and the box itself snapped up. So everything that should have been inside the box were on the outside and the box had to be cut away before I could get back on the field. Thomson was obviously unsympathetic, waiting at the top of his run, but I couldn’t continue. I was ushered off and only returned the next day.”
Full postBoom boom at Lord's
Siddhartha Vaidyanathan spots Boris Becker, Ashley Giles, and an acquaintance of Michael Holding at Lord's
Siddhartha Vaidyanathan
25-Feb-2013
Walk up around lunch time and guess who is at the media centre? Boris ‘Boom boom’ Becker sitting behind the press box and watching golf (The Open) while helping himself to some lunch. “It’s my first time at a cricket match,” he announces as a large media gaggle approach him gingerly. “I’ve seen bits on TV but never at a ground.” It’s the golf, though, that keeps Becker interested as he discusses various possibilities with his partner. He signs a few autographs, consents to a few photos being taken but soon decides he’s had enough and returns to concentrating on his golf. When India last won at Lord’s, the only time they’ve triumphed here, Becker was a 19-year-old sensation making waves on the lawns of Wimbledon. Now he’s at his first cricket match. Surely India can’t lose now.
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Watching the rain can get quite gloomy, especially when it’s pelting down like it was this morning, so this diary decided to take a walk. Waiting for the lift is Ashley Giles, “slimmer and trying to get back to full fitness”. He sure looks it, all decked up in his black suit and dressed for a television show he’s supposed to be part of. “Basically saying the usual” he grins. India mainly remembers Giles for the nasty act on a December day in in 2001. “Has Tendulkar ever been stumped after that?” he asks referring to the dismissal at Bangalore, the only time Tendulkar was stumped in his Test career. When reassured he shoots back: “He has to retire soon for me to keep that record!”
Full postGooch's wagon and Bird's wish
Siddhartha Vaidyanathan takes a look at the illustrations on the match ticket, chats with former umpire Dickie Bird, and stays away from the archery comepetition at Lord's
Siddhartha Vaidyanathan
25-Feb-2013
It’s the highest individual score at Lord’s, was compiled against India in 1990, and a wagon wheel of the innings has been fittingly illustrated on the tickets for this match. Graham Gooch’s 333 was made with the help of a three-pound Stuart Surridge Grand Prix Turbo and the triangular formations from either side of the pitch show the extent of driving during the knock. One hundred and seven singles, 15 twos, 2 threes, 43 fours and 3 sixes. Seven years later India suffered at the hands of Sanath Jayasuriya (340 in Colombo) but rarely have they experienced such ruthless straight-driving. The lines perpendicular to the pitch remind one of the savage cuts and pulls; in fact one of the strokes one remembers is the swat to the short ball, picking it up from outside off and pulling it down the ground to the straight fence.
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Harold “Dickie” Bird is at the ground and can’t get enough of attention. “My final Test was on this ground, you know, back in ‘96” he tells people, “and that left-hander of yours got quite a lovely century. Hope he does something similar today.” A few moments later, the left-hander misses a beauty of an indipper and loses his off stump. Was it an emotional end for him at Lord’s? “Tears you know, walking down those steps for the last time. T’was tough.” Did he see any of yesterday’s action? His take on the Kevin Pietersen walk-back? “I think the umpires should have had a discussion before giving him out. You can reverse a decision at any point but it just made the whole thing a bit complicated.”
Full postThe sound of bat on ball
Siddhartha Vaidyanathan talks about the atmosphere at Lord's and its silent thrills
Siddhartha Vaidyanathan
25-Feb-2013
You feel it the moment you enter the underground, in the conversations among passengers, at the St John’s Wood station. Greybeards in MCC blazers and egg-and-bacon coloured ties discuss match possibilities, one repeats Tendulkar’s name almost every sentence. There’s a small whiteboard at the exit of the station that has a handwritten notice about ‘events at Lord’s’. Wellingdon Road, connecting the station to the ground, is choc-a-bloc: there are touts, there are those seeking tickets and there are those walking straight past.
Gray-Nicolls are using the Lord’s Test as a marketing opportunity, with one of their men actually shaping a bat outside their stall. A large audience watches and some are quite bemused to see a bat actually being made. One look around and there’s beer being served already. Who drinks before the toss?
Full postOval moments with David Frith
Siddhartha Vaidyanathan catches up with cricket historian David Frith, who recounts his memories of matches at The Oval
Siddhartha Vaidyanathan
25-Feb-2013
Talking cricket is sometimes as enjoyable as watching it. Nothing like doing both. This diary writer spent an hour or so next to David Frith, the veteran cricket historian, trying to take in bits of his encyclopaedic knowledge. Frith, whose cricket-watching career spans more than 60 years, is one for detail and his recounting of minor anecdotes makes for riveting discussion.
Memories of The Oval flood back. Not only has he seen several Tests at this venue, a scene for grand theatre down the years, but also spoken to legends who took part in many. There's Gilbert Jessop's Test in 1902 - "probably the greatest Test of all time" - Australia amassing 701 in 1934 - "Bradman and Ponsford, ouch" - Bradman's last Test in 1948 and many, many more.
"I spoke to Wilfred Rhodes about 1902 and the whole story about him and George Hirst coming together with 15 needed," he says, "Folklore has it that they said, 'We'll get 'em in singles'. Rhodes says they said nothing of the sort. He also added with a wry smile, 'We might have run a few of 'em'."
Full postThe roots of real tennis
Siddhartha Vaidyanathan
25-Feb-2013
At the pavilion end at Lord's, close to the Museum and adjacent to a shop selling memorabilia, are the Harris Gardens. Named after Lord Harris, the Governer of the Bombay Presidency from 1890 to 1895, it resembles a site which has hosted a party last night, with tables and chairs overturned and other furniture lying around. But back in 1875, it was the arena to standardise the rules of lawn tennis. The dimensions of the garden, we are told, resemble those of the modern tennis court.
Opposite the garden is a tennis club, one of the 50-odd in the world where they still play real tennis. Real tennis is the original racquet sport. Also called jeu de paume in France, it's from which the modern game of tennis descended. It appears to be a mixture of tennis and squash. Today there are only about 50 real-tennis courts around the world – 27 in England, 13 in America, 6 in Australia, 4 in France and 3 in Ireland and the current world champion, Robert Fahey, is from Tasmania.
Full postIt all ends in laughter
Siddhartha Vaidyanathan
25-Feb-2013
Walking through central London on a Sunday evening is quite eerie. The streets are so deserted that you hope it's not an evacuation. Liverpool Street, Highbury Islington, Kings Cross – names you'd associated with a bustling metropolis – are all quite funereal.
We're told about Old Street being a busy one; we land up there and find three gents walking as aimlessly as us. We remember it's Sunday, suddenly we realise it's Brazil v Argentina in the Copa America final, a game that's supposed to start in a little while. A few frantic enquiries later we settled on Offside, a sports bar just round the corner. The term "just round the corner" can take anything from 10 seconds to an hour. We managed it in ten.
Full postGooch doesn't live up to expectations
Siddhartha Vaidyanathan
25-Feb-2013
Graham Gooch was standing at ease, bag in hand, and smiling. Surely that's not Gooch (or as my grandfather used to say, Goch). There was a celebratory piece on Gooch recently, written by Patrick Kidd, a staff writer with The Times, where he spoke about Gooch's bottom: "The backside thrust out towards square leg". And that's the Gooch we remember: ram-rod straight stance, high bully-like back lift, Zapata moustache, that steely determination in the eyes and the statuesque seriousness.
Against India he turned plunderer, rudely ravaging 333 at Lord's and sweeping 115 at the Wankhede in a World Cup semi-final. He was the perennial villain but unlike the movies the bad guy always won. In 1990, on India's tour to England, I'd agreed on a pact with granddad to study till Gooch was at the crease and only then listen to the cricket on radio. By the end of the series, when he amassed three hundreds and two fifties, I was doing well at school. That didn't stop me cursing both my granddad and his dear 'Goch', though.
Full postThe good old days
Look around county grounds and you’re likely to see middle-aged, old and wary spectators who are thoroughly immersed in the cricket
Siddhartha Vaidyanathan
25-Feb-2013
Look around county grounds and you’re likely to see middle-aged, old and wary spectators who are thoroughly immersed in the cricket. They enjoy a drink or five, talk about the “good old days” and inject a quaint charm in what has largely become a young man’s sport. It’s great to see these supporters (fans is just too crude a word for such sophistication) enjoy a day at the cricket, reading, chatting, watching, gently clapping. No hooting, no jeering and no mobbing of players. It a fine contrast – the younger lot chanting slogans and waving flags, the older generation quietly enjoying their cricket.
The setting adds to the charm – green hills, church spires, tree-lined boundaries – and produced a most soothing experience. “It’s a sedate, casual and contemplative experience,” wrote Mike Marqusee, the American historian settled in England. “The players acquire a human dimension absent from the gladiatorial international arenas. The weather, as always in England, sets the tone, and dictates the style — from blankets and flasks of hot tea to sun-hats and chilled lagers. And is there another sporting event regularly graced by second-hand bookstalls?”
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Full postRopes, regulations...and rain
Ireland v West Indies, Quad series, Clontarf, July 14, 2007
Will Luke
25-Feb-2013
Ireland v West Indies, Quad series, Clontarf, July 14, 2007
4pm - Get off my grass
When me and my brother were growing up (our mother would dispute my use of the past tense if she reads this), a neighbour several doors away who owned a large garden used to roar "get off my grass" whenever we'd walk over it on our way to and from school. He was known henceforth as Mr Get Off Man by us, our parents, and all our other neighbours. And he must surely have been here today, disguised as a lady in her forties, who was screaming at everyone and anyone who dared step across the boundary rope. All this is perfectly understandable, I suppose, but it's nevertheless a ridiculous state of affairs that a young boy of six or seven can't step inside the rope by a foot, cheering his heart out, to stop the ball and throw it back to one of his West Indian heroes. Bah humbug.
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