With thanks to Sir Peter, a few pictures from today at The Oval. My gratitude for letting me use his memory card and I’ve picked some (not all) of his good ones. He doesn’t have as powerful a lens as my Lumix, but these are brilliant with the tools at his disposal.
Hello. That was certainly an interesting set of comments we received on day 1. The village idiots turned up, had their say and naffed off. But they seemed to have made an impression on one useful idiot.
I saw little of day 1. I’m so sorry if trying to earn enough to feed my family got in the way. However, from this remote perspective it appeared to be Aussie’s day. No doubt if Smith makes a big one it will be discounted by the cognoscenti. I find that laughable, especially if Chef makes a big one. We’re watching this double standard nonsense.
Ooooh. Etheridge has slagged me off. I should be ashamed. Of what I don’t know. Here’s the tweet I received close to midnight. Thursdays are always trouble!
People. I’m not ashamed of you. Not at all. Here’s a little thing, though. I do hope this individual is not personally holding himself responsible for the sins of his newspaper and anyone who uses their comment pages. Because that would be funny.
As for me being self-pitying? Whatever. Why you having a pop at little old me? I would encourage you to read the thread between both TLG and I with Etheridge. It is astounding. If you are not used to Twitter, pick out @DmitriOld or @BlueEarthManagement. It’s gob-smacking.
To the cricket. Comments on day 2 below.
Edit- took out the point about drinking. John said he hadn’t. I had been at a leaving do. Happy to point that out.
Welcome to Day 1 of probably 3 or 4 of the 5th Ashes test for 2015. I will be up in the North West of England today on business, so won’t, as usual, get to see much of the game, although I’ll give SkyGo an effort on the train back from Preston.
I could say a huge amount about what has gone on in the interim period between the Trent Bridge test and this one, but that’s for another time. I’ve not let it just pass by. I’ve taken a few insults from people who are no friends of what this blog is trying to achieve, or even bothered to understand where I come from and what I do. It’s been a very disheartening couple of weeks. But unlike our wonderful captain, there’s no “I almost quit” talk. That’s not how I operate.
So to Day 1. TLG has had his say in the preview. I’m not about to add too much to that, except I fear for Mark Wood if he’s playing on a duff ankle, that needs surgery and that he’s having cortisone shots for. If that’s true, will we never learn?
This will be the repository for comments, so fire away BTL and I’m not sure if there will be a review or not, because TLG is away, and I’m on the road, and then when I return to London, at a do.
If any of you are in the vicinity of the Oval, do support the #ChangeCricket demo. TLG’s piece says it all, and Sam and Jarrod deserve backing up for all the work they’ve done. Also, I am around The Oval on Friday evening, if anyone of our readers are, and I’d love to bump into some as I did with KeyserChris at Lord’s back in July. I’ve also got a couple of days at county games planned, including one at Surrey and one at Middlesex.
I’ll see you all later – comments away…
I’ve not really written about a very, very important test match that I attended, and as the series of pieces I’ve written on my Ashes Memories is not complete without it, here goes. No. Not Adelaide 2006, but The Oval 2005.
As regular readers, be it those who misrepresent me (then can’t even admit they did), and those that read and digest what I’m saying, will know that I was a Surrey member for many years and I did attend every England match from 1997 to 2012 at the home of English cricket (1st test venue in England, accept no impersonators).
Note, as I’m oft to repeat, I stopped going after 2012 (I’ve written on the “spectator experience”) and have not been back since. Note also, this pre-dates KP’s sacking, and ticket buying for 2013 would have been post- KP textgate. So it was nothing to do with KP, just for those “obsessives” out there. Of course, they are the ones who obsess, not me. But enough of that.
I digress. This 2005 Ashes test had the promise to be something lively, even a good 10 months in advance, and when the annual ticket form dropped through the letter box giving me two weeks advance booking as a privilege of membership, I got the allocation in as quickly as possible. Already there were harbingers of restrictions for members. We were give 10 per member per day in 2001, this had been cut to 6 in 2005. Tickets went rapidly, England were on the back of a 7 test wins in a summer (that’s greatness, right there) but I still managed front row seats for the Saturday in the Sturridge Stand. We also secured tickets for Thursday and Friday. I’d attended three days for the preceding two summers, but wouldn’t venture a Sunday ticket until the following year – a rather memorable fourth day against Pakistan!!!
Now, I have retold the tale of 2005 in my Lord’s piece. Mum had passed away, Dad was frail, and yet life seemed to have opportunities in front of me. I had a trip to Barbados in the October (those were the days) and the Ashes finale just five or so weeks before. Those tickets appreciated in value as the series wore on. When Ashley Giles stroked that ball through the leg side to win at Trent Bridge, then the reputed market value of those tickets had a 0 stuck on the end. This anti-England man would not have contemplated two noughts on the end (three – well, that would be silly…). I was so mentally shot after a number of issues that I actually hid the tickets in a book on my shelf, in case we were burgled. Eff it, they could nick the TV, the music stuff, my jewellery, just don’t nick my tickets (I was in my mid 30s….so can’t use being a child as an excuse, well not really)
The day before the Oval match, my work team had a cricket match. It was a lovely fixture. We played in Greenwich Park, they laid on a bar (during the game, dangerous) and some food afterwards, and all I worried about was I hadn’t played club cricket that year and that playing in this game was going to hurt. Most importantly, this was going to hurt while I was at this massive match for English cricket. Given past experience, this was also going to hurt even more on Day 2 than Day 1. I’m no athletic specimen and there were going to be serious unfitness pains.
So maybe, just maybe, it would be best if I didn’t do too much in this game. I was captain so I didn’t intend to bowl, and stuck myself down the order. That was the joy of being in charge.
The plans went awry. They were a bit better than we thought, and I had a bit of a bowl, which didn’t go well. I came off for a drinks break and my Dad, who’d come to watch for the afternoon just said as I came off “well, that was crap, wasn’t it?” Thanks, Dad.
I’m not sure how many they got, probably around 180 in 40 overs, which was going to be too much with our batting line-up full of non-cricketers.
We started our chase, and one of our people who could bat a little, surprised us all by making a painstaking but really vital 40-odd (only to be the victim of a story we still tell about his future wife completely ignoring it…). I came in at number 7 to replace him, and then started to bat well. I’d hardly played, but it was hitting the right part of the bat, and although not particularly fluent, I set about the run chase –we wanted about 8 an over. This meant I had to run. This meant the price to pay would be greater. A few boundaries maybe, but we had to run everything. This was not how I planned it (although, I confess, I loved batting again).
This isn’t a heroic story of pulling a win out of the fire. I made 39 and got out when we had half a sniff – a sort of Ravi Bopara type knock – and then ludicrously had to act as a runner for my great mate who had a knee problem. You see me, you don’t want me as a runner. By this time my little nieces had turned up with my brother, and they came out to get me. I was knackered. Then the muscles started to ache. Oh no.
I woke up the following morning and it hurt. A lot. But I hobbled out of bed, muscles refusing to relax, all those little micro-tears causing each footstep to be a pain. But nothing would stop me. So, food parcel prepared, and provisions and camera at the ready, I headed to the station. I met my good friend Brendan at London Bridge, and then met up with the crowd for the first day at the Oval (I seem to recall I went to Jessops at Cannon Street for something, actually, but not sure what. Might have been a memory card).
Now, of course, there’s been many a report on this test match, but the feeling remains that seeing just the first three days of this test in particular is like seeing half a film and walking out, only to be told there’s an amazing plot twist at the end. Think ending the Usual Suspects before the flashback of the interview scene.
It is important to note, and I hope the pillocks who slag off this blog do, that this “anti-Strauss” individual will never tire in saying that his first day century at the Oval was the most unsung English hundred I’ve ever seen (either in flesh, or on the TV). If Strauss had failed, we’d have been dead. Instead he made a magnificent, composed, attractive 129, and with Freddie Flintoff who made, I think, 72 pulled us from a dreadful position to an almost par score.
But while there was pleasure, there was pain. Any movement that day was agony. At one point one of my side muscles cramped, which I can tell you is bloody agony, you go all stiff, breathe in and you have to wait for the spasm to pass and rub it hard. People think you are having a heart attack. And I’m just reading that back and saying I might have to slip in a double entendre or two.
There was also an interesting exchange that morning with a fellow Millwall fan (and excellent blogger on football) who was sat in the May Stand on the text, regarding one Kevin Pietersen. Tres and Strauss had laid a decent platform, but then Tres, Vaughan, Bell had gone in quick succession. KP then got out to an aggressive shot at Warne, and my mate was livid. Called him a big head, no brain etc. I agreed with him. Think we wanted that exchange back a few days later?
While Thursday was a glorious day, Friday was a complete let down, with England adding a few more, and then Australia batting just enough overs to deny us a refund. Of course, we didn’t take a wicket. The main thing I took away from this was the lack of urgency. Australia needed to win the test, but Matthew Hayden in particular had had a poor series. I did mention in a little tongue in cheek throughout my blogging days, but there was a little “batting for myself and not the Ashes” about it. He made 138, but it wasn’t his usual bullying self. It was hard bloody work.
The Saturday had some rain interruptions, but plenty of play. Australia got to 200 I think before losing a wicket, with Langer first to his ton. Ponting stuck around for a bit, but went, and we saw Martyn go to. But Hayden was there with his unbeaten hundred, and with two days to go, Australia were ominously poised.
Which is where I left it. This still pains me to this day. Sir Peter got a ticket to the last day and witnessed the miracle of Pietersen in the flesh, and the celebrations afterwards. I spent the Monday wondering how much my boss would notice if I slipped away and watched the game in the TV room of my office as much as possible. But in its own way Monday was special in the office environment. All across the massive floor of our office building, people had cricinfo on their screens. The guy furthest away seemed to have the fastest connection, and the whispers across the floor of wickets originated from him. He was the bearer of bad news. I was the last to know. It was an amazing experience in its own way. Silent cheering, silent fear.
By the time the game was reaching its denouement, and when we were doing the sums about how many runs per over the Aussies could chase – we thought 8, ludicrously – most of the cricket fans had camped into the TV room for a shared experience we can’t replicate for cricket now. We were there for Richie Benaud’s last words as a cricket commentator in England (and the dismissal of KP that immediately followed). This was the moment we’d all been waiting for. People with just a passing interest in the sport became fans. The enthusiasm for cricket was immense. We all know what happened next.
So these are pained Ashes memories in many ways, because I couldn’t be there for the end. But the atmosphere on day one was unlike any I’ve experienced before or since – and yes that includes Lord’s earlier in that year. We sensed we’d downed a mighty foe, a behemoth. This wasn’t a monkey off our backs, but bloody King Kong. Oh if I’d bought a Day 5 ticket (I did for 2009 – wasn’t needed).
There’s lots to remember this test for. My Dad, who died 7 months after it, went to see the parade. He never told me he was going to, but this frail man, a lover of the sport, went up to Trafalgar Square. It’s not the done thing for a son to be proud of a father for something he achieved, but for him to do that made me proud. It also made me proud of the people who had made him happy two months after the death of his wife. Who made me happy two months after the death of my mum.
I say to those anti-KP people out there…. stop, for one minute, and just think WHY I might be a little bit pro-KP. Do the maths. Work it out. And certainly don’t say that that team “makes you sick”. It was special, in a way that this series really isn’t, in that this was an England team that beat a 15 year monster that had embarrassed us every time we played them. It had true greats like Warne and McGrath (albeit hobbled), as opposed to worthy adversaries like Johnson and Lyon. Gilchrist compared to Nevill. Hayden and Langer compared to Warner and Rogers. It was a great team we beat, and they proved how great they were 18 months later. Again, I’m not sure why I need to justify this. It’s bloody obvious. Just because a modern pop band sells a ton of records, doesn’t mean they can compare to the greats.
But my memory above all will be the camaraderie with my Old Jos colleagues, the joy of my father, and the time cricket really did grip the nation. It doesn’t now. We can’t pretend that it does. Cricket has changed, a lot, and not all of it for the better. The Oval 2005 seemed a lot better time, because it was. That’s not me being anti-England, it’s an attempt to put this into context. Anyone who saw Andrew Strauss’s 129, and who doesn’t think it superior to any ton scored by an England player in the last couple of years isn’t paying attention. In my view. It was that good.
As a final postscript to this piece, I find at this time that I much prefer to write about cricket memories. I feel I have something to prove to people that it isn’t all about the warfare in the cricket fraternity in this country, a war I didn’t start. I truly feel the only fans I had a go at were ones who had had a go at me. I concentrated my anger on journalists and the ECB. That was this blog’s raison d’etre. And it’s why we criticised the ridiculous wall they put up around Cook.
And I also feel that these pieces put context of where I am now, in terms of my views on the game, and the things I defend to the hilt. The world wasn’t perfect in 2005, and I’m not saying it was, but there were no divisions, no causes to divide us. Hell, England dumped my favourite player (Thorpe) for Pietersen and I carried on (and I loved Thorpe so much I bought his book and got it autographed). Again, critics, just read that, and think about it. You never know, you might stop attacking supporters and actually think to yourself “why are these people so angry now?” and it is not, assuredly, solely down to KP being sacked. I keep having to effing repeat myself.
I’m sorry I had to end the piece on that note. But it needs saying. Of course, they (they know who they are) will ignore it. Doesn’t sit with their “how effing great an England fan am I” mantra.
As usual, all pics are taken by me (on an Olympus Ultra-Zoom) and you are welcome to borrow them (if used on a blog, you can credit, but don’t worry too much). I hope you enjoyed my memories and I’ll have a few more before the summer is over.
With the fifth Test due to get under way, the ECB have been slapping themselves on the back at a job well done and as usual the media have been all too complicit in ignoring the wider issues.
There is nothing quite so important, nor quite so scandalous, as the power grab by the Big Three of world cricket, to take over the ICC, and to award themselves the bulk of the revenues, while emasculating every other cricketing nation whether Test playing or Associate. It is the subject of the recently released film, Death of a Gentleman, for which you can read our review both of the film and the issues it raises here:
https://collythorpe.wordpress.com/2015/08/10/death-of-a-gentleman-2/
Those who have seen the film are angry. Those who know what it’s about are angry. Those who read our post on it are angry too. Yet the constant frustration has been that the authorities neither listen, nor care what the fans think. As Gideon Haigh pointed out, supporters are there purely to be exploited.
Jarrod Kimber and Sam Collins, who made the film always intended it to be the catalyst for those who love the game and who have supported it both financially and with their time to raise their voices in protest at what our own boards, created to protect the game, are doing in their own selfish interest and with no regard for anything or anyone else.
The film was the first step, the creation of the http://www.changecricket.com website and @changecricket Twitter account another.
The cry of the disenfranchised is always “what can I do?” so to that end, this Thursday on the first day of the fifth Test at the Oval, there will be a silent protest mourning the death of cricket as we know it.
All who wish to register their objections to the theft of our game by those who care only for power and money are invited to attend. At 10am, a three minute silence (one minute for each of the England, Australia and India boards) will be held at the Hobbs Gate outside the ground.
The protest is being supported by Jamie Fuller and Damian Collins MP, both of whom have been part of the campaign against corruption at FIFA in recent times. Paul Burnham of the Barmy Army will also be there.
Even if not attending the match, the organisers ask that anyone in the area who can make it for an hour come along and show support for this most important of causes. Sam and Jarrod have suggested fans wear their country’s colours, but the most important thing is to get a good attendance, and then maybe even the cricket press who have in large part (the exceptions know who they are) remained silent.
This is our game, and while we might argue until we’re blue in the face about issues like Kevin Pietersen, the point is that we want to be able to argue about it in the future, and there’s no guarantee we will be able to.
The greedy, self-interested bastards at the BCCI, ECB and CA are stealing our sport. It’s time to stop them.
@BlueEarthMngmnt
@DmitriOld
@OutsideCricket
And so, barely moments after the home international Test summer began, it’s nearly over. If anyone had said that the Oval Test will begin with nothing riding on it, it would hardly have been a surprise. That it is a dead rubber because England have already won, well that is more of a surprise.
And as a result, when the dust settled on the hammering handed out at Trent Bridge, the focus has been more on Australia than an England team justifiably enjoying the moment. It has been a peculiar and somewhat subdued build up.
Australia themselves will be saying goodbye to at least two players, in Rogers and Clarke. In reality, even though they are unlikely to play, Haddin and Watson can be added to that list, for it is hard to see how they will be selected again. There’s every chance Voges is playing his final match as well, while Shaun Marsh must be a considerable doubt for the future given he’s failed to take his chance at the highest level. Since Australia lost Ryan Harris before the series began, it amounts to a quite extraordinary end of an era for the Australian team. Of the squad of seventeen first chosen for the series, you can make a case that seven or even eight (depending on what future Fawad has) will be gone from the Test team by this time next week.
Moreover, Australia have lost little time in moving on, Smith has already been announced as the next captain, with Warner as his deputy – which is an interesting choice in itself given his brushes with authority over the last few years. It could be the making of him. Likewise, Smith has been talking about moving to number four in future, all of which suggests that Australia just want this over with and to move forward.
It’s a rather sad way for Clarke to finish. The last real link to the great Australian team of the noughties, he is going out with a whimper rather than a bang, captaining a side who have already moved on, in a series already lost, with a team comprised of many who will saying their own farewells. Sport can be a cruel business, and few get to time their departures perfectly. As both player and captain, there’s a temptation to believe that Clarke is more honoured abroad than he is at home, and a warm reception when he walks out to bat for the final two times is guaranteed. And thoroughly deserved.
For England, it is the chance to deliver four Test wins in a series against Australia for the first time since 1978, and in circumstances that few would have expected. Given England’s inconsistency, and the end-of-era nature of the Australian team, it’s as hard to call as any of the previous Tests. The series has been so unpredictable that it would be a brave person to make the call on what will happen this time. Perhaps what most fans of both sides would like more than anything would be a close match. There hasn’t been a truly close game between these sides since the Trent Bridge Test of 2013 – even the Oval last time which ended up tight was down to a contrivance more than genuine competition. That Oval Test incidentally was only the third time since five Test series became the norm that the Oval Test was a dead rubber in England’s favour. That this is the fourth instance one series later says a lot about recent series.
To that end, what does this say about England’s win? It’s fourteen years since Australia won in England, and in that time England are 10-3 up in Tests. Yet since England won that first series in years in 2005, England are 11-3 down in Australia. Each side is being well beaten away from home, with few close matches, that has to be a concern.
For England, there seems little point in risking Anderson – there would have been little point even if the series was on the line – so the debate surrounds the question of the pitch and whether a second spinner is needed. If so, then there is at least the possibility that Moeen could be moved up to open to create space for Adil Rashid. If that is how England go, then Lyth too could be facing the chop as far as his Test career is concerned. Lyth has hardly been a stellar success in this series, but then neither has his opening partner, one innings excepted. It would be a sour note were England to continue to go through openers not called Cook at a rate of knots. That is of course making the point before it even happens, and England may well retain Lyth to give him the chance to cement his place. A score of any sort would probably do that.
Of course, if Lyth does keep his place, then it seems hard to see how Rashid could be given the nod. Wood is troubled by his ankle, but the indications are that Plunkett is favoured if he doesn’t make it. There is of course no point selecting someone for the sake of it – that is what happened two years ago when Kerrigan and Woakes were called into the side and promptly discarded for the following series – more understandably in the case of Kerrigan, whose handling can still be questioned. Yet with the series in the UAE coming up, Rashid will certainly be required.
In all, this is a subdued build up to the final Test match. At the end of it, Alastair Cook will be presented with the urn, and all will be well with England cricket. Of course, the reality is some way from that, the previous 18 months has created a schism amongst cricket lovers like little seen in living memory. The win has papered over the cracks, but failed to resolve them. The ECB have a big job on their hands to re-create love for England, but if they do intend to try and do so, then this is no bad platform on which to build. It is now up to them.
It seems somewhat apt to return to posting with a low moment. I’m returning to an era where we were getting our 2005 win rammed back down our throats by a hostile foe, for a time where I felt low about the game, but for different reasons to those now. It’s ironic that I probably feel more low now than I did back then as England are on top. It’s not about the winning and losing, it’s about the fans sticking together, and on that fateful tour of 2006/7, I never saw fan division. We supported the team, no question.
This was not only support against a juggernaut team, it was against a Cricket Australia organisation that made it desperately hard for English supporters to get tickets. It was support an erstwhile disinterested Australian public, who couldn’t give a stuff for the Ashes in 2002/3 when I was out there, but were now making sure the games were played in a hostile atmosphere. It really wasn’t pleasant. It was a lot like football. I’m not sure it was for the best, really, but who am I to say?
At least at that time we got abuse from the opposition fans. I’m a lad from working class roots, born into a council estate in SE London, moving to another one where I still live after 36 years in the same house, and never that well off that money was no object, but able to do some really good things when the economy and the relative purchasing power of my wages allowed. No-one from my family had ever done this sort of thing. Never gone to Australia. I absolutely thanked my lucky stars at how I’d been able to do this. It is something I never took for granted. You know, it’s why the somewhat silly barbs about being anti-England and not a cricket fan actually do hurt. You have got to me effing kidding me.
I only turn on people who turn on me, and I have always been one that recognises that other people have different views. Back in 2006, there was a clamour for Monty Panesar which although not of the modern level for another player, was firm enough. This time, though, it was the media leading the charge. It was the dog days of Duncan Fletcher and he wasn’t for picking him if Giles was fit. He got all sorts….
I was ambivalent. I’d had a disastrous time in Adelaide, and I was in pieces. Confidence shot. Holiday proving to be a trial. The cricket depressing.
I’ve always got the Adelaide test up my sleeve for a piece, but the one thing I do recall about Perth is our hopeless optimism. On Day 4, with England up against it, Ian Bell and Alastair Cook gave us hope that we might get out the mess we were in. KP was in decent nick, and had a 90-odd, a 158 and a first innings 50 under his belt, and with Flintoff and Jones following behind we had a sniff of getting out of the game. It was ridiculous optimism. But when we were three down, there still remained a little hope, and that’s when Perth announced the prices of fifth day tickets. The man we call Reg went round to the ticket office to get them, and we still tried to believe that there was a shot. Cook got to a hundred, a horrible knock, hopelessly out of nick, but absolutely an example of temperament and courage. Yes, the iron rod, the steely core. But this was Perth. This was heat. Towards the end of the day his concentration wilted, and a combination of that and the new ball did for him. Hoggy came out as a nightwatchman. Brett Lee, fielding in front of us, where there was a large corps of England support, mocked us “Where’s your skipper now, boys? Hiding is he? Scared?” Hoggy lasted no time….
As the day drew to quite a cloudy close, we wandered back to our apartment block, about half a mile from the WACA and thought we were quite mad to have bought the tickets. Our flight out of Perth Airport was for 1:30 a.m after the 5th day, and we had to pack our bags and go to Scarborough for our last night in Australia that evening. We wondered what precisely we were doing going up there, and then back down again for the last day.
But we did, because we thought we needed to be there for the team. Well, I did. However that didn’t last. Flintoff and KP saw off the early attacks and both made half centuries, but once Freddie went, and then Jones for a pair in his last ever test, the tail failed to wag. One wicket left at lunch, we thought there were better things to do than watch the Aussie apply the coup de grace, and went for a beer somewhere in the Perth city centre. We heard the winning wicket on the radio. We were spent.
That trip was an emotional experience for me, and I’m going to go into more depth when I do Adelaide as to why. After Adelaide we flew out the morning after (the infamous flight where Pringle sat two rows behind me), and headed down to Augusta on the far South West coast of Australia. It was gorgeous. We then spent a few days in Margaret River, did a bit of winery stuff, had a few beets, watched some football on the TV, and then headed to Fremantle, where four of us squeezed into a bijou apartment and we couldn’t wait to get out of it. Then we went up to Perth the day before the game, but still caught a train on one evening for a night out in Fremantle!
I’d also met up with a Millwall friend, Jim, who now lives out there, but had generously popped round to my brother’s house in London to pick up a credit card (after I’d had all mine nicked in Adelaide), and bring it out to me. I met him for a drink in Subiaco, whereupon I promptly left the card and the new wallet in the pub we were in. Thankfully, I realised, and some lovely honest people had handed it in to the bar-staff and a second disaster was averted. I was in an absolute state by this time, an emotional and unsure wreck (both my parents had died in the preceding 18 months).
England were obviously 2-0 down going into Perth, and the Adelaide scars were raw. There had been a lot of comment in the England fans area at Adelaide about Duncan’s stubborness over Monty Panesar, and the poor performance, and then sad news around Ashley Giles, had meant his inclusion was a certainty. Saj Mahmood also came into the team, a player, I have to say, I really rated (cracking judge, me). Perth underwhelmed me as a ground – I don’t know what I expected – but it was a decent atmosphere and they had put in extra seats.
England had a good first day, and Monty made an immediate impact. Sadly, as was to be the case frequently in his Ashes career, Mike Hussey was a royal PIA. He saved the innings and took Australia from real strife to mediocrity. Monty claimed five-for, and Englan fans started to believe again. Maybe we could be competitive and make a real fist of this. After all, we’d fought hard in both the previous test matches, hadn’t we? At times…
Despite bowling the Australians out for 244, there was a sense of foreboding. Had England got that last day collapse at Adelaide out of their minds. Well, Cook got out cheaply, and Bell followed for a duck, and 51/2 wasn’t a firm base for us to launch. It looked even less firm when Collingwood went very early on day 3, and although Pietersen steadied the ship at #5 (people started to comment he should go up one, despite Colly making a fine fist of number 4 until then), Strauss also went to a dodgy old caught behind. No-one stayed with Pietersen, who got increasingly desperate towards the end of his knock and was ninth out for 70 with 175 on the board. There was a knockabout last wicket stand of 40, but the sense of fear was such that you thought “jeez, it looks easy for them, what are Aussie going to do!.
With a lead of just 29, England probably tasted parity when Langer went first ball of the second innings, and I took one of my best ever pics….
It never lasted. Ponting and Hayden steadied the ship, and by the close Australia were 119 for 1 and the Ashes felt gone. The third day, a Saturday was not one I saw a lot of. It was 40 odd degrees plus, and Sir Peter and I did a bit of early morning Christmas shopping to take home, and turned up after lunch. We saw England open that morning with KP. It was desperate. Panesar couldn’t weave his magic. We turned up after Ponting and Hayden had gone, and we fried. I mean we absolutely fried. Hussey made a century, Michael Clarke did too, and then, memorably, did Adam Gilchrist. We were so hot, being belted around so much, that we left with Gilchrist in the early stages of that knock. Beaten, and depressed, we stomped back, hearing cheers for every boundary, sensing something. I remember saying to Sir Peter as we left the ground “this is the sort of situation that Gilchrist could go off and do something mental.” We sw him get to his ton back at our apartment. I’d changed to go for a swim, and cheered Hoggy’s very wide, but not called, ball that denied Gilchrist the chance to equal the record held by Viv.
The water was lovely.
Of course, Strauss immediately got an absolute shocker of a decision once the Aussies had declared, so there was nothing to it but to head out for a nice meal in Northridge, and a serious session in the Brass Monkey. I pick up Day 4 above…..
What did Perth mean to me? It was the end of an era. I’ve never seen England away again, and never likely to, if truth be told. It was a holiday that I can’t look back on and say it was the greatest ever, but I learned a lot about myself and my inabilities and weaknesses. I’d say that the world was vastly different then, and the cricket world was too. I think it is interesting to contrast how much fire was aimed at Duncan Fletcher after that tour and not the players, and especially the captain, who let him down (in my view). There was much focus on his stubborn approach to Panesar, but in an interesting read across to the recent 5-0, the players quitting the tour through injury or lack of form weren’t to play again at all. The captain never skippered England again. KP batted well, as did Colly at times, but Bell was Bell. In his second innings knock at Perth, he was pure Ian Bell. He looked superb, then played a loose drive and got out. He flattered to deceive.
But the fans never turned on the team, and they never turned on each other. It’s a different world. Some say the likes of me are to blame. We created the divide. We are the reason. But stop for a minute and just think. Please. Just think. We had incredible trouble getting tickets for the games we went to, but we got them. This was an expensive trip to watch a team collapse, but we wouldn’t have missed it for the world. This was a team that fell apart, but we stuck with it, when the media were throwing missiles at the coach. I haven’t changed as a cricket fan, so maybe something else has.
For a test that I don’t relive that much, it’s quite an important one in my cricketing life. I was sort of there when the Ashes were clinched. I’d seen 40% of a whitewash on my travels, and seen a team collapse in the heat – that third day was brutal. I had a ton of admiration at the time for Cook, as he battled so hard for his hundred, and yet now I view him in a much different vein. It’s my last day touring. But at that time, I loved the sport unconditionally. It had me. Now, I feel it’s pushing me away. The media turning on fans for the past 18 months. The fans turning on the fans (I genuinely believe I only retaliated when attacked – others may differ). It’s not England cricket as I remember it. It’s a sad look back, to a sad test, and a sad outcome.
Oh, and I did this. Count the chins…..
Hope you enjoyed the above. I am feeling rather cheesed off, and hope that writing the memory stuff works for you lot, and gets me back. It’s been a rollercoaster. Feeling up, and then down. Angry tweets, repentant deletions. I am fed up feeling I need to justify myself, when I got to do things like this. I’m not special. I’m just a bloody ordinary cricket fan, who writes a blog. Some may not like what I write, some may be envious of the traction it got, some may call me a broken record. But it’s mine (and TLG’s).
Have a good night.
I said on Twitter earlier that I was taking another night off, and at the moment, I’m not sure what to write even if I did. Real life is a bit of a grind, and I’m incredibly disheartened by the aftermath of the Ashes.
As you all know, I go through these little troughs, and I pop back up. So be patient, and I’m sure TLG might fill in some gaps when he has time.
So in the absence of something to hang your hats on, please comment away on all things cricket below.
See you shortly.
Dmitri / LCL
So. I was walking out of the office, down to the station, and on the train home, and I’m wondering. What do I write tonight? Anything? Leave things alone and have a night off?
I don’t think I can. The atmosphere among cricket circles is, certainly, from what I can see, venomous. The vast majority of England cricket fans don’t give two hoots about how the game is run, and just want to enjoy the game. There is, I know, widespread ambivalence to the ins and outs of cricket administration, office politics, personal disputes. But I’ve been on this trip for a while, and I know others feel like me.
Now. Let me get this straight. I didn’t want to do this, because it is a bit like dick waving, but here goes. I’m going to set down, in words, my cricket life.
DON’T
ANYONE
EVER
F*CKING
QUESTION
HOW
MUCH
I LOVE
THIS
SPORT
I do not question those who do not agree with me on their’s. I do not hold myself up as a better or worse supporter than anyone else, just that I love the sport of cricket and care deeply about it. I really didn’t want to list this, but it needs saying, as evidence of track record, of loving the game, especially tests. For once I’ve done it. If you’ve been a long-term reader of this blog, then you’d know it. I don’t need to tell you, you don’t need to tell me.
I muted someone on Twitter – yes, I know – who absolutely gets on my tits. I don’t block. This wouldn’t piss me off as much except that I know that a number of others feel the same, but won’t say it. I warned Maxie not to talk to him, but he did. When he’s not telling someone they are beyond parody, he’s churning out this line.
and again
and again
He’s an insignficant little so and so, I know, but I’m not letting this lie, and he can spout off all he likes on his Twitter feed. But this is my home ground, and I’ll comment here. I don’t give a shit if he’s an “England supporter”. So am I.
Oh, I got this:
Look, I know. I shouldn’t give this pathetic excuse the oxygen of publicity he so certainly craves. The effort, the sustained effort to put logical thoughts into words to craft posts etc. is something we can all look forward to from him when the time comes, although, like me, Jack Byrne, James Morgan and Maxie Allen, it’ll be beyond parody. And no, none of this was directed at me, but it was directed at some of our blogging comrades, and I’m not having it. Je Suis Maxie and James and all that.
You see, we attack the ECB. I’ve given up trying to get into rational debate about Alastair Cook, every bit as much as I am about getting into a rational debate about KP. As for Strauss, well. Let’s see on this one, eh?
Some can separate the ECB from England.
I UNDERSTAND
HOW
YOU
CAN
DO
THAT
Now, when we attack people from having the opposite point of view, its usually aimed at journalists, ignorant people on social media or, most importantly, the ECB.
When they attack someone of the opposite point of view, they attack us. Nice. And when we go back at you, we get that drivel.
James Morgan, today, tried to tread the middle path. I tried that last year when I was sick of all the rows, and nothing happened. Of course it didn’t. The schism remains, and neither side of it can wish it away. Wounds run too deep. They aren’t petty, they are deep. To see my blog described, and it’s mine and Maxie he’s having a pop at, as “anti-England”, I just get angrier and angrier. I do not see life through your damn prism, so don’t keep telling me you have it right.
I am royally pissed off. If people take pleasure in that, that’s up to them. I don’t. There’s no hint at rapprochement here. People want blood. I’m not pretending for one minute that I’ve been a model citizen, and I’ve lost my rag every now and again, but I see precious little of that from the opposing view.
I say “beware the man who claims he is honest, because he’s usually a liar, and that’s his first one”, but you get honesty on here from me. If someone cheeses me off, then I react. Big or small. I’d fisk Dominic Lawson’s dog whistle article if I could be arsed, but he’s a toffee nosed prick who thinks there’s not a sliver of difference in KP and Cook’s commercial attitudes, and then denigrates an entire England legend’s career. You haven’t found me doing that to Cook. I’d rage on about Ed Smith, but he’s just ingratiating himself with authority, and he’s definitely their kind of person. See SeanB, who knows a thing or two about Middlesex, about that man’s credentials. Then there’s the BTL buffoons.
I return to James Morgan’s piece. Can’t we all just get along? Public Enemy, in my one culture reference of the piece, in their track “Whole Lotta Love Goin’ On” say “Rap is a contact sport”. This has been a contact sport all right. Some are sick of it. I think it’s just starting. I’m prepared for it. I’ve been doing it for a long time now.
I wish I could be more positive, but it ain’t happening. We were always going to be attacked, and we were always going to respond. I wanted to let the situation breathe. It hasn’t.
Anti-England. You precious idiots. Bring it on…..
Have a good evening.
The Ashes resume tomorrow with England trailing after the first three ODIs and really needing a win to take control of the series.
The game will be played over four days at the St. Lawrence Ground in Canterbury, and here is the place to post your comments over those next few days.
Given the prominence we will be giving to Death of a Gentleman, I regret that this post will be below that one for a while, but you lot have the gumption to find it.
All the very best to the England team, and I’ll be keeping a firm eye out when I can during office hours tomorrow.
Being Outside Cricket 