Mark Nicholas: Unravelling wiles of Warne (02 June 1997)
THE first thing he does before beginning to bowl is stand still
02-Jun-1997
Monday 2 June 1997
Unravelling wiles of Warne
By Mark Nicholas
THE first thing he does before beginning to bowl is stand
still. Very still, to collect his own thoughts, it would seem,
and to hypnotise his waiting opponent. There`s no fizzing loop
of the ball from hand to hand as there is with Mushtaq or was
with Qadir, no eccentric sideways shuffle, no flailing arms or
hop, skip and jump to the crease. There is no extravagant eastern drama in this bowling action, there is more the chill of
the operating theatre; the work of the surgeon`s knife.
It is accuracy, spin and an acute bowling brain that Shane
Warne relies upon for his drama, the extravagance comes with its
result. The appeals, the pouting responses; the agony and the
ecstasy. The disbelief in disappointment; the wide smile and the
right arm thrust to the sky in salute to success. Then the rush
to hug Healy, his accomplice, which signals the rush of his
team-mates, who gloat together and pay homage to the Wizard of
Oz. This is the extravagance of Warne, it is in everything except the mechanics of his bowling.
The initial stillness is the cleverest thing. The moment of
calm before the storm, the moment Warne asks his audience to settle into their seats and the enemy to settle under his anaesthetic. During this calm, the ball is hidden by both hands,
which search for their grip while the bowling brain searches for
its option. Decision made, the arms drop loosely alongside the
hips and relax the key muscles in neck and shoulder. Then he begins the short journey to the crease, a measured, thoughtful
stroll. The ball is back in both hands now, lost to the eye, before it reappears alongside the always-still head, where the
right arm is cocked and ready, the left arm bent and sighting
its target.
In textbook fashion, Warne looks briefly over that left arm,
which turns his body just enough to allow him to pivot and to
link with those powerful shoulders, a fast arm and a strong
wrist, all of which work together to impart such extraordinary
action on the ball. A lot has been made of the injured finger
and certainly it is swollen and is a nuisance, but Warne`s
bowling comes as much from his body as from his fingers - listen
to his grunt of effort if you doubt it - and from his aching
right shoulder.
All around England for the next three months, cricketers will be
challenged by this most charismatic man and his talent. Only in
the Test matches, however, will opponents feel the real Warne,
the maestro strutting his stuff. It is one thing to take guard
and to survive him, quite something in the first instance to
take your place at his table with your mind still intact.
When Warne takes a wicket, the batting dressing-room shuffles
and betrays its insecurity. The next batsman reaches for his
kit, barely hears the calls of good luck and grim-faced leaves
the warm bosom of his pals for the cold eyes of his opponents. This trip will take forever, past inquiring club members,
through a gate opened by a sympathetic fellow wishing him well
but doubting it, and into the brighter light which makes him
squint and momentarily lose his bearings.
In bars and boxes, amateur analysts and professional commentators judge the replays before digesting the statistics of this
new batsman`s lifetime work, statistics which are displayed on a
million television screens. The hum of the expectant crowd
and the first sight of the gathered oppressors ensures that
the heart thumps faster and the armpits join the hands in
sticky sweat. It is a lonely walk. It is you against Australia.
Do not underestimate the gladiatorial nature of this thing,
the overpowering effect of the arena or the imposing history
of the Ashes. Like Lillee before him, and Botham, too, Warne is
a very great cricketer with a particular kind of confrontational edge. These men take wickets with their personality, a
gift which is every bit as valuable as a late out-swinger or a
well-pitched leg-break, and they believe that the arena and the
Ashes are their own. This edge and this self-belief has led, at
various times, to acclaim as hero and accusation as villain but
it has added to their aura and has made them and their team into
winners.
When a batsman takes guard against Warne, he feels this and
fights it in his mind but the fight is hard because Warne is
already plotting with the predators, the short-legs and sillypoints in their helmets.
It is the leg-break upon which Warne will rely most and don`t
think that his bowling in the one-day games even gave a clue to
its effectiveness. He bowled masses of sliders, or "zooters", as
he calls them, into the batsman`s pads to restrict the swing
of the bat. He`s got a new zooter, too - "a special for lefties"
- a sort of back-spinner or slow flipper.
He says he bowls three different types of leg-break, two which
are faster and flatter and spin more, one that is slower
and should dip to deceive the batsman. He is bowling more
googlies, or wrong `uns, as he calls them, to left-handers,
and places great importance on the extra bounce of the top-spinner.
Believe all this if you will, not forgetting that the man is a
master of his own myth and a mischievous so-and-so who`ll stick
his tongue out in delivery if it helps, but don`t for a minute
think he has "lost it".
One reason for any perceived lack of menace from Warne since
his finger operation is the amount of cricket that opponents
have played against him and therefore the amount of opportunities
to decipher his rich variety. Another is the availability of
super-slow-motion replays which assist the batsman`s eye in picking him. Actually, he is not as hard to pick as, say, Qadir was,
but he bowls fewer bad balls so applies more pressure.
The worst pressure comes when he bowls around the wicket into
the rough and strangles an end. This is the toughest tactic to
deal with because the batsman has so few no-risk strokes with
which to respond. He can kick the ball away in defence but he
attacks across the line at his peril. This is where Warne imprisons the batsman. It is where Australia can rest and regroup.
The key for England will be to remain positive in defence and
yet to retain "soft" hands. To bat in partnerships and to attack at every opportunity so that Warne does not settle and find
his rhythm. If he persists in bowling around the wicket, to
take guard outside the leg stump so the batsman is set up in line
with the ball rather than across it. Most important of all
will be to have confronted and conquered the mind game before
Thursday, when it will be focusing on the ball, not the man,
which matters most.
It is a about a second from the moment the spinning top leaves
the magician`s hand to the moment the batsmen has to kill its
dan- ger. A mesmerising second to make a choice. Spare a thought
on Thursday for the men with the choice.
Source :: The Electronic Telegraph (https://www.telegraph.co.uk/)