Spectator's life at midwicket definitely plays on the nerves (15 August 1999)
It is mid-August already and, for me, a disappointing season
15-Aug-1999
15 August 1999
Spectator's life at midwicket definitely plays on the nerves
Tony Lewis
Tony Lewis looks back at his first season away from the working side of cricket
It is mid-August already and, for me, a disappointing season. Why?
This is the first season since 1955, when I made my first-class
playing debut, that I have not been travelling round the county
grounds of England and Wales. Whether behind a bat, or in front of a
BBC microphone or camera, I have spent almost 45 years watching Test
and county cricket from a position in line with the flight of the
ball.
I always envied the spectator's role and its vaguely louche
possibilities: a long-off deck-chair in the sunshine at Hove, the
Patum Peperium on water biscuit sheltered by the wide brim of a
Panama hat and the languid arm cosseting the goblet of wine in the
shade.
I thought I might settle under the trees at extra cover at Worcester,
or alongside the Jessop tavern in Bristol, or one of the sunny top
decks at Edgbaston. Deep backward square-leg behind a pint in the old
vice-presidents' stand at Sophia Gardens was a certainty. I planned
all this.
Hedonism, I have to report, cannot exist alongside England cricket
unless pleasure swells within you at the sight of disarray and
disappointment. And to think, we started the summer with the first
World Cup in this country since 1983!
Big bucks? No, how could that happen when the company we appoint to
find eight global sponsors for cricket is an American-based company
lacking offices or intelligence in most of the Commonwealth where the
game is played? Going for worldwide sponsorship only proved that
cricket is not global at all, which we knew in the first place. Thus
we careered into the biggest British-based cricket event for decades
without a brewer among the four main commercial backers.
I was cooling on this subject, however, by the time the World Cup
teams arrived and at last the fun began. A round of golf with Shane
Warne, who took the longest driving prize; a superb performance by
New Zealand at Cardiff in beating the Australians. And we cherish
great moments, especially at the end of the unforgettable contest:
the tie between South Africa and Australia when Allan Donald and
Lance Klusener lit a flare for sporting mega-confusion to which only
Jean Van de Velde has since aspired. Great viewing, consummate fun: a
worthy Australia won the final.
This spectator's treat was the crucially effective role of Steve
Waugh. Alan McGilvray, the former Australian broadcaster, would
always talk of a cricketer and his 'work', and that is how I see
Steve Waugh. However stylish his batting may be, however delicious
the leg glances, however punishing the punches off the back foot,
however shaped for the big occasion, they are performances
constructed by patience and hard work. La vie en bleus, the French
would say: life in overalls. His captain's innings of 120 not out
after coming in at 48 for three against South Africa at Headingley
was very special.
The fun at Glamorgan vanished this season as soon as we lost our
captain, Matthew Maynard, for seven weeks with a broken finger. But
generally the scene was good as England went to Lord's one Test up
over New Zealand. Then the fun became disarray and dejection.
Nothing in my career had prepared me for the scary experience of
sitting at midwicket throughout a Test match watching England bat. As
the Kiwi bowler was arriving at the point of delivery, the batsmen,
without exception, were on the move with heads a'dipping, bodies
a'lunging, feet a'shuffling into the most popular contortion which is
produced by a half-step back followed by a full step forward, leaving
the player over the exact spot on the popping crease where he had
started but with his legs locked apart in no-go mode. Do not watch an
eclipse with the naked eye, we were told. I would add: nor watch
England bat from midwicket.
It was then I began to conclude that this first season as a
non-working spectator was going to be most disappointing. My teams,
Glamorgan and England, kept losing and looked awful. What has my more
relaxing look at cricket told me? Firstly, we seem to be awash in
bits-and-pieces cricketers because the one-day game has been elevated
above its natural importance. We compound it with 10 one-day
internationals next year. Whacking the ball about with a heavy bat on
easy surfaces is not a bit of good in Tests against teams like South
Africa and Australia, who have McGraths and Warne's, Pollocks and
Donalds who test technique and temperament every ball.
Secondly, keeping happy and optimistic is a challenge for we
spectators. So I look out for the youngest players and hope; I watch
Channel 4's Roadshow on a Saturday in order to see that good work is
going in at the grass roots: I am feeding a high interest savings
account in my building society so that I can afford to travel to some
of the 10 one-day internationals next summer and one or two of the
seven Tests and also afford the tickets to get in.
Source :: Electronic Telegraph (https://www.telegraph.co.uk)