Deep Backward Point

Deep backward points on cricket. Mostly backwards.

Can You Drop Sachin and Live to Tell the Tale?

Nirmal Shekar writes for The Hindu:

Sachin has done enough to deserve the right to choose his own time of departure.

While I don’t think there’s enough evidence to drop Sachin yet, the time may be soon. But this line of thought from Nirmal Shekar (and shared by many) is patently ridiculous.

I foresee new rules for the selectors. Select the players. Then replace them only when a player chooses his time of departure.

If this was how our selectors worked, one Kris Srikkanth may still be in the playing eleven.

No, Mr. Bhogle. Indians Are Not Culturally Suited to the Shorter Form.

A curious paragraph from Harsha Bhogle where his hypothesis is that India does better at the shorter format because they are culturally aligned:

One-day captaincy is much more about instinct and short-term rewards, which we in India are naturally adept at extracting. We see opportunities quickly, we rush in, we are satisfied. A space opens up in a crowded local train and we edge in there, a new counter opens at a bus station and we are first in the new queue; our eyes are forever darting around looking for an opening because if we miss it we may not get another. As a wonderfully instinctive person who has his wits around him, Dhoni revels in these conditions. A five-day game is more like booking your ticket early and reserving a seat rather than charging around looking for one.

The paragraph is curiouser because Dhoni is, in fact, a former Indian Railways ticket collector.

I could write a similar paragraph about how India would obviously do better at Test cricket because they are used to waiting in long lines for their LPG cylinders. Patience has been bred in to them at a young age, so obviously they were number one in Test cricket.

But I don’t have a deadline and a word limit looming.

Another line from Bhogle in the same article:

India are not too bad, as we saw even in the Tests in England and Australia, over short bursts. Maintaining that quality over longer periods is a different skill, and like peace in the modern world, it is a bit scarce in India at the moment.

Less egregious. Mostly just a writer conjuring up a catchy simile. But it’s mostly untrue. The modern era is among the most peaceful, even if it’s people are more nervous about random acts of violence than any previous generation. A graph from the Wall Street Journal (also click through for a graph on homicide rates over the centuries):

Also, India have actually been quite good in away Test matches as recently as one year ago. So wrong on both counts, Mr. Bhogle: it’s a peaceful world where India have recently played good, patient Test cricket.

Blackmail

From Miss ESPNCricinfo Staff:

The Pune Warriors will remain in the IPL and its parent company Sahara will continue its sponsorship of the Indian team [..] The major concession Pune seem to have won is the restoration of its auction purse of $1.6 million and the licence to buy players who were not sold at the auction and also foreign players who were not part of the auction.

That’s blackmail. In a perfect world, the BCCI would have called their bluff and looked for another sponsor.

Also, in a perfect world the Pune owner would not have had to negotiate with the Chennai owner on the fate of their franchise.

Anti-Spectator

Reinforcing my earlier point about modern changes to cricket, Andy Bull writes a great piece on the influence of DRS on the great game:

During Pakistan’s series victory over England it felt as though there was hardly a single facet of Test match cricket that had not been changed, one way or another, by the DRS; batting technique, bowling technique, the balance between bat and ball, the decision-making processes of the umpires and the experience of the spectators in the ground, all had been altered.

This isn’t to say that the impact has necessarily been negative. From that list I would argue that the only aspect of the game that is unequivocally the poorer for the DRS is the spectator experience.

Ultimately, what else matters?  Read the rest of this entry »

It’s Fair, It’s Science, But Perhaps It’s Just Not Cricket

Most sports have barriers between casual fans and the game. Some are larger than others. I remember watching soccer as a kid, and while most of the game was straightforward (kick ball in to net), the off-side rule always tripped me up. Suddenly the game would stop, the ball would change hands, and only an expert with a slow-motion replay could tell you why.

When I started watching the NBA, I could never explain the various fouls (was that travelling, a 3-second violation, or just a regular elbow to the ribs?) and the one trillion timeouts in the fourth quarter. A friend once tried to convince me that they actually stop the game so the broadcasters could show advertisements.

Compared to cricket, though, these are minor barriers. The objective is still “get the ball in the net“. Cricket is a complex sport with various arcane rules and the fans who are within the fold– those of us who get it– usually enjoy the game because of these intricacies, not in spite of them.

The modern changes to the game that DuckingBeamers describes are different:

I don’t have any particular animosity to DRS, or Duckworth-Lewis, or even the 15-degree rule — I accept that the science behind them is generally rigorous (even if Hawkeye still freaks me out a little bit). But I worry these technocratic rules raise a barrier between fans and the game, and I yearn  for a simpler discourse that respects fate and fortune over human agency — if only because I think fans should understand the game they profess to love.

These are changes that create barriers between the dedicated fan and his sport, not just casual fans. They may be fair, if the fairness of sport is judged in a court of law, but it’s not clear they make the sport better. Much worse than the off-side rule made me suffer as a player and viewer as a child, these new innovations bring you out of the game and force you to accept an external reality.

It’s all smooth sailing until, pause: the mathematicians say India lost, or the biomechanical engineer says your bowler is a chucker, or the computer says you’re out. They force you to accept that you, the dedicated fan, can’t explain the game you love. It’s fair, it’s science, but perhaps it’s just not cricket.

Why We Write

Sometimes someone else writes something and it feels as though they’ve pulled it out of your brain. Only it’s so much better, and clearer, than anything you could come up with. Here is American cricket-blogger Matt Becker:

Just last week, she (my wife) tweeted a link to a blog post about how to go about getting paid to do what you love, and it really amped me up about doing something that isn’t my mind numbing, soul sucking job, that there is a path there that I can follow if I want, that will lead me out of this cookie cutter existence does not make me all that happy.  Off of the grid, in a way, but still with electricity and high speed Internet. [..]

To take something and put every last ounce of yourself into it.  Make it something you are so terribly proud of.  And if you can do that, if you can find the time and the means and the idea, then, well, you have accomplished what we are all here for to begin with.

And that brings me back to this blog.  Despite the factual errors, and the lapses in posting, and the god awful typos (I am actually an above average speller), I am really quite proud of this silly little blog, and I really feel it could be the one thing that I do, that I make perfect, that I put everything into, that I sacrifice for.

Read the whole thing. I couldn’t figure out which passage to quote. I meant to link to this earlier, but really, I couldn’t figure out which part to quote.

You are most sweet. Srini.

Blech!

“What a nightmare to convince them not to terminate tanveer and also not to take flintoff,” Modi wrote. “Warne went of [sic] the handle. But have managed it by using stick and carrot strategy. Thus they have [$]1.875 [million] only. Much love Lalit.” Srinivasan’s reply later the same day reads: “Thanks. You are most sweet. Srini.” The existence of the emails was first reported by CNN-IBN in September, 2010.

Yuvraj Singh: the Film

Yuvraj, at the end of Act II

One day, they will make a film on Yuvraj Singh’s life. And it will be no Guru Dutt film, no Guide ending. It will be a Barjaatya film, a Lagaan film. A story of the boy who beat the odds, twice.

The third act is yet to be written.

But this is how I imagine it will end.

Yuvraj triumphant, as the film ends

Become a Hollywood Bigshot, Help Fund a Cricket Documentary

Ok, I can’t promise the Hollywood big-shot part. But I can promise the warm, fuzzy feeling of helping two great people you don’t really know make a movie.

Ok, I can’t promise they’re great people. They look awfully nice in their Two Chucks videos on Cricinfo. And one of them has been awfully nice to this blog in the past. (“Please, I don’t want to read your stupid blog, give me the link to fund them!”)

Here’s the documentary, currently being filmed by Jarrod Kimber and Sam Collins in Australia (trailer):

Death of a Gentleman is a snapshot of Test cricket through the Australia vs India Test series in 2011-12. Is Test cricket dying? Does anybody care? How can a sport be run so badly and hope to survive? Sam Collins and Jarrod Kimber ask these questions and more of cricket’s biggest names and the fans who will decide the game’s future.

But if those aren’t reasons enough to help fund their documentary on cricket, here are three more:

  1. It’s cheap: you can spend as little as 10 pounds, and still claim you funded a major foreign documentary. Make sure you say “foreign” if you want to sound pretentious. If you’re from the UK, claim it’s really Australian, and vice versa. Make sure you do not say “foreign”, if talking to wingnuts. Also, don’t be cheap.
  2. You get freebees: Depending on how much you spend, you get all kinds of knick-knacks, doo-dads, and even a Producer credit. The Producer credit only goes to the obscenely wealthy.
  3. They have a sense of humor: Or humour. These are the guys who had the balls to call themselves Two Pricks. Let’s face it, if you were watching a documentary about the rumored death of cricket as we knew it, wouldn’t you want the bearers of bad news to have a sense of humor? Gallows humor never hurt anyone. Except for relatives of the condemned.
  4. They are serious: Sure they have a sense of humor, but they are getting this thing made for real. The filming is in progress, they have already raised 35,000 pounds.

Ok, that was four reasons. Now that you’re convinced– it’s very simple. Go to WeFund, and fund Death of a Gentleman.

Frequently Asked Questions On Willow TV Legal Notices

Willow TV has released their own official FAQ. Please read that first. The below information may be out of date. This FAQ will be updated as new details emerge. Here is the original article on this story, with many comments from those affected. Please suggest additional questions (for me or to pose to Willow staff) in the comments or on Twitter
Read the rest of this entry »

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