Even the experts differ on the nuances of cricket, but explaining the game to the uninitiated is a difficult task
CRICKET: Jon Swift
IT was, in the light of retrospect, a debate that should neither have been contemplated nor entered into in the first place. Attempting to unravel the mysteries of the game of cricket is a difficult enough process on an inwardly-looking personal level; trying to quantify it in some sort of rational manner to the uninitiated is a minefield not lightly trodden.
Thus it was something of an insanity to embark on a cursory skimming of its complexities to a sharp legal mind fixed on trying to compare the game with the age- old art of horseracing on Sienna’s Campo, and the Swedish photographic expert, hellbent on promoting the values of cross-country skiing.
It did, it must be admitted, help that there was backing available from the former sailor of the Pom persuasion and the distinguished military gentleman, both of whom were followers — and supporters — of the world’s most glorious game.
“Who is likely to win?” was the obvious — and inevitable — question posed by the legal mind, cutting directly to the chase on the series-deciding Test between South Africa and New Zealand at Newlands.
The answer after a scant two day’s play with the state of affairs still delicately poised, presented problems on a variety of levels.
At this stage it was essential to explain that, even with the series between Ken Rutherford’s Kiwis and Hansie Cronje’s locals leveled at a Test apiece, the possibility of an outright result at all after 15 days endeavour was still a possibility.
“That,” said the Swedish photographic expert, “does not make a great deal of sense.” The distinguished military man, wisely at this juncture, stayed well clear of the initial skirmishes.
Here, it was germane to attempt to explain the seemingly unexplainable by recapping the successes and failures of the South African side in the losing Test at Wanderers and the fightback against poor batting form and some near inexplicable rulings on the light by the umpires at Kingsmead in Durban which cost both sides over 70 overs — nearly a full day’s play.
The earlier uncertainties in the South African batting can be explained — to a degree — by the loss of form from Andrew Hudson, still one of the classiest players in the local game despite recent history to the contrary.
So precipitous has been his slide and so deep his loss of confidence that even if he had been named as 12th man for the Cape Town Test, he would probably have dropped the drinks. “That doesn’t quite make sense,” says the legal brain in a smooth American accent. “He is only one man in a team of 11.” This is patently true, but, applying the domino principle to a batting order not exactly brimming with run-getting ability at present, a better starting point has been an overdue priority for Cronje and the rest of the side.
It has been evident, you explain, that the substitution of Rudi Steyn for Hudson was both unavoidable and essential and that Steyn’s first innings 38, which led to a debut 100 partnership when combined with Gary Kirsten’s 64, represented the type of platform that the South African batsmen have not enjoyed for a long while.
“But surely,” interjects the Swedish skiing enthusiast, “all Hudson needs to do is train harder?” This, you confirm, is a possibility. And that the deeply religious Natalian will undoubtedly work on his given gifts and come back to the side at some future point. Still, the debut by the diminutive Free Stater showed that Steyn is an organised and ordered batsman and that, with the pressure seemingly off, Kirsten has the grit and determination to take on the attack and lead in building an opening platform.
It is also evident, you hasten to explain before the razor-sharp legal mind can seize any opening, that the South African bowling still suffers from the loss of Allan Donald through injury. In this, you are just a tad too late.
“But,” interposes the legal mind, “the South Africans have got them all out, haven’t they.” Yes, you concede, this is true. But to have had the Kiwis at 96 for five and then let things slide to 283 all out, cannot be exactly how Cronje and co would have seen things shortly after tea on the first day. Even with a recognised specialist batsman such as Stephen Fleming coming in at number seven in a revamped New Zealand order, it was a seeming lapse in sustained firepower which Donald could well have filled.
The lion-hearted Fanie de Villiers, fiery debutant Steven Jack and Brian McMillan, you add, were ably backed by Clive Eksteen who, while he failed in the opening innings to match the four wickets apiece of McMillan or Jack — both bidding for an international “fivefer” for the first time — managed 10 maidens in the 26 overs he sent down for a scant 36 runs.
But somehow there must remain a question mark about why an out-and-out tailender such as Chris Pringle could have been allowed — as fellow bottom order batsman Danny Morrison did in Durban — to add 30 runs to the total before De Villiers finally got him and closed the innings.
Here, the Swedish photographic expert interjects with the story of a cross-country skier — named Magnus Magnussen or perhaps Sven Svensen — which goes some way to snapping the thread of debate.
This is brought back into line by the sharp legal mind, who refuses to let the original question go. “Yes,” says the legal mind, “but who is going to win?” It is, you try and explain, a difficult question in the extreme to answer with a full three day’s play still available.
“It seems to me,” says the legal mind, “that there is not a lot of sense in the game.” It is a point worth considering — if not debating further — and it is at this stage that you join the distinguished military gentleman and the ex-sailor of the Pom persuasion in a strategic retreat to avoid a total rout.
And around this point that you turn to the Swedish photographic expert and say: “Tell us about Magnus Magnussen … or was it Sven Svensen!”