Coney and the art of pitch analysis

There are different ways to do a pitch report. Jeremy Coney, the former New Zealand captain, has probably covered the entire range. He’s attached a ball to a string to exorcise it, recited a poem to describe it, and once, late last year, almost did a breast stroke on land while knocking his knuckles on the pitch. Coney, who during his playing days was hailed for his ability to read pitches, loves analysing the 22 yards. On the eve of every game one can see him scrutinising the surface, tapping on it, inspecting the grass, feeling the clay … It’s almost as if he was a horticulturist on some scientific mission.

So what does Coney look for during his investigations? “I call it reading the entrails,” he says enthusiastically when asked about this whole business. “I ask myself questions as I go along. Is there grass? Is it distributed evenly? How is it shared around? Are there gaps? What sort of grass is it? Are they new young plants? Are they stressed because of lack of water? All this will tell me whether the pitch is going to be quicker at the start, or whether the ball will skid on from the grass (which is always the fastest). If it’s an old plant, the ball will hit the crown and start to do some strange things. If there is dirt there is automatically more friction. So if there are bald patches, I will know that this pitch is going to be variable and will only get worse from that point.”

Once he’s done with the top surface, Coney likes to go a bit deeper. He makes sure he is always around when the television crew dig up the area behind the stumps, to immerse the stumps microphones. “It gives me an idea of the root structure,” he continues, “whether the roots go right down to the ground to hold the structure. It tells me how hard the surface below is and how much moisture is there.”

As if to give it a class-room atmosphere, Coney picks up his pen and quickly sketches the profile of an ideal pitch. “Normally there is grass on top and a depth of hard crust below, that’s of course if it’s rolled properly. Beneath it, you would like to have a cheesy layer and if you finger through it, it’s like a trampoline. That helps the bounce. You can’t have a pitch that is hard throughout its profile, you need moisture underneath because it will keep the roots nourished. The roots can suck the water up and last longer as a result. The problem with the pitches in the West Indies is that you normally have grass growing beside it, not on it.”

He then ventures into a long geological lecture about clay quality, followed by an explanation of the physics of water-soil interaction. Then there is a small matter of studying the weather forecasts, a trifle of analysing the past statistics on this ground, and the usual routine of speaking to seasoned observers. Coney can discuss pitches all day and all night. But does he always get it right? “If I got it right always I wouldn’t be coming back,” he says with a grin. “I have a good track record but the beauty is that even after all the analysis, you may still get it wrong.”