Simon says – Aussies beware!

For British cricketers at least, the need to keep up with the Joneses has never been the most inspiring means of motivation. Only five members of the tribe – Arthur, Alan, Geraint, Jeff and Simon - have played for England. Illness, injury and sudden lapses cost four of them dear; Alan was simply stripped of his status.

In other words, therefore, he amassed a hell of a lot of first-class runs, all 36,049 of them, without being capped. Has any batsman worked so hard, so fruitfully, for so little recognition? Not so far as the statisticians are concerned. The three-sentence “note” at the top of page 241 of the latest Wisden is a masterclass in pithy heartlessness:

That that notice appeared in the good yellow book at all was thanks to my good friend Huw Richards, a lifelong Glamorgan follower, whose sense of injustice on Jones’s behalf had been festering for decades. Some may have been surprised to see no mention of the “fact” that the opener had been asked to return his England cap, blazer and sweater, but Huw found that to be a load of urban mythical rot.

Jones's misfortune was twofold. For one thing, facing the new ball at Lord’s in the opening “Test” of the Guiness-sponsored series, he went toe-to-toe with that Sobers wannabe Mike Procter, who blew him away in each innings, with extreme and grossly unfair prejudice. The Lord’s mandarins, though, proved even more unplayable.

Granted, Jones’s fate on the field wasn’t quite so horrid as that endured by poor old Jack MacBryan, who in 1924 fell foul the Manchester rains: his sole Test was reduced to 165 minutes’ play and he remains the only man to have played in one without any stats to show for it: he neither batted, bowled nor took a catch. Still, at least MacBryan had the satisfaction of knowing his appearance was legit. Jones thought his was, too – for two years.

In July 1972 the ICC decided, in its strictly finite wisdom, that those five pulsating games, comprising one of the most thrilling series of the era, did not pass muster as official Tests. But if they did not pit nation against nation, why on earth sanction them in the first place? It was joined-up thinking of that calibre that invited Kerry Packer to storm the gates.

For those who appreciate the finer things in cricketing life, it was as if we had been told to delete some of our most cherished memories: Garry Sobers’s 6 for 21 and 183 at Lord’s; that sumptuous stand between Sobers and Graeme Pollock at The Oval; Eddie Barlow’s four-in-four at Headingley; Barry Richards and Procter’s last performances on the (allegedly) highest stage. For Geoff Boycott and Derek Underwood it was even more painful. Boycott’s 157 at The Oval didn’t count, preventing him from holding the English Test record of 23 centuries rather than sharing it with Wally Hammond and Colin Cowdrey; Underwood was left with 297 five-day victims rather than 304. “For Jones,” as Richards attested in a recent article for the International Herald Tribune, “it meant the obliteration of a Test career.”

Until a couple of years back it would have been possible, just, to defend the ICC’s stance. But then came all that “Super Test” nonsense, the statistics from which are all now part of the protagonists’ official records. Come on, chaps: some consistency would be nice. Especially since it would also mean restoring Sobers’s 254 at the MCG two winters later, for the Rest of the World against Australia, described by Bradman himself as the greatest innings he’d ever witnessed.

Simon Jones has been facing up to the possibility of career obliteration for some time now, ever since the end of the 2005 Ashes rubber to which he contributed so much, only to miss the final jubilant chapter. Up to that point, wisely deployed in short, telling bursts by Michael Vaughan, his pacy reverse-swing had mesmerised the Australians. Halfway through the third Test at Old Trafford he’d dismissed six of their top seven at least once; his mid-innings charge in the tourists’ second dig should have been decisive; all told, his 18 wickets came at one every 34 balls. Then, after being handed the new ball for the start of Australia’s second innings at Trent Bridge, he broke down with an ankle injury.

Fame has served him well – those modelling assignments have been especially fruitful - but he has not featured on an international stage since. Maybe it was one of the Big Man’s less amusing family plots? After all, four decades earlier, Simon’s dad, Jeff, had seen his own Test career capsize early due to the unique strains and stresses of bowling fast for a living.

Three summers later, Simon, having plummeted out of love with Glamorgan, is finally fit again, and confounding the sceptics and premature obituarists. Now operating east of the Welsh border, at Worcestershire, the force is showing every sign of being with him once again. Against Hampshire in a recent Friends Provident 50-over match, he clocked 91mph, blasting batsmen away and reducing others merely to fearful scorelessness. In his first 68 overs in all formats this season – and yes, his new employers are being sensibly sparing in their demands – he has bagged 19 wickets.

There is a big picture and a small one. Jones needs four more Test caps to make a minor but proud piece of history – Robert Croft’s tally of 21 is the most by anyone who has played for Glamorgan, although Pat Pocock (25) is still the leader among those actually born in Wales. Next summer’s Ashes, though, ought to be hogging the priorities.

An opportunity was lost when Jones was not chosen for the upcoming one-dayers against New Zealand, but it’s hard to fault the selectors for their caution. As with Andrew Flintoff, patience must be seen as entirely virtuous. On the other hand, if, come July and August, the fire of Messrs Steyn, Ntini and Nel is to be returned with anything approaching interest, the temptation to draft both men back ahead of schedule may prove far too strong.

Who knows: keeping up with the Joneses may yet become a worthwhile ambition.