There was a time when Rahul Dravid’s batting was so technically correct that old men wept tears of blood into their wisdens as he played a forward defence of such straightness that Christian fundamentalists couldn’t question it.
All of his shots seemed epicly correct.
He left the ball like it was meant to be left.
A cover drive looked like he was posing for an artist.
His pull shot was tight, contained and morally acceptable.
And his clip off the pads easy, and relaxed, like he was thinking of something else and could play it blindfolded.
Now he’s changed.
Dravid now plays every innings like he’s trying to survive an alien attack.
He seems to play almost every ball through third man, often unintentionally, and he looks hurried and worried most of the time.
But it’s the humble block, Dravid’s best friend, where it’s changed the most.
Dravid now blocks the ball like his shoes just caught fire. His hands just drop straight down in a panic just as the ball turns up.
They probably turn the stump mic down as it happens so we don’t get the excitable scream as he realises that yet again he has barely got away with keeping his wicket.
It’s not pretty, but it is stoic and egoless, like you would expect from Dravid.
Dravid is basically rebuilding his batting the way a newly limbless man would teach themselves how to swim.
And if you can’t respect that, well that’s fair enough, but I think it’s pretty cool.
There is a alternate universe where Rahul Dravid walks around pimped up, sort of like a slim Biggie Smalls. In that world everything he does or says is gospel. He is not God, but actual life. When he bats the whole world stops and sighs. His forward defence was the sole reason for world peace. It was as if before him there was no reason to live. It is every young girl and boys ambition to satisfy every whim of Rahul Dravid. Laws are re-written for him, ice cream is named after him, and when he finally retires from cricket he takes over the whole world. In this world, there is no Sachin Tendulkar.
Yet again I was invited to the MCC’s world committee (MCCWC from now on) meeting.
Last year I had a run in with Steve Waugh that resulted in me being mentally disintegrated.
This year I had no idea what would come of the whole trip, would Rahul Dravid bitch slap me, would Shaun Pollock and I get caught up in a coversaation about the Pixies, the possibilities were endless.
If you have never been to a cricket ground the day before an international match, I recommend you do. Lord’s is a great one, because much of it is so open and there is just heaps of shit going on. I saw KP giving batting tips, Derek Pringle ushering young kids around, Grand Master Mushtaq ushering kids around and Majid Khan helping Barry Richards opening a window.
Come on, that is a good afternoon.
Then for the press conference, which seemed drier than last year, perhaps because there was no Boycott.
It started with Zimbabwe, the MCCWC want a fact finding trip there, I almost suggested John Howard be sent there, but I held my tongue. The MCCWC – led by Shaun Pollock, Barry Richards and Andy Flower by the look of it – want test cricket back in Zimbabwe. I inquired if it was wise to give test cricket to a team with no fast bowlers, but the general consensus was to give them a go.
Then it was about pink balls. The MCC and the MCCWC love pink balls. John Stephenson loves pink balls more than any man alive. Pause. Well, he does. He also talked about Kookaburras new G3 ball which is a cricket ball that stays whiter for longer because it is dyed better. Maybe Stephenson doesn’t love pink balls as much as he likes balls that will last. Either way, there was plenty of talk about balls and day night tests.
Then there was Rahul and his talk about the IPL. Twice now I’ve seen him at the MCCWC pressers, and both times his performance has assured me that he will never be a regular on panels at comic cons. He just doesn’t seem to like doing it at all, his tie was all slanted, he was slumped over his notes for most of it and answered each question with a sombre nervousness of a geeky teen talking to a milf he is desperately trying not to look at the cleavage of. He said very little about anything.
The MCCWC’s world test championship was talked about again, I wondered if the viability of the championship game would really grab people’s imagination if it was just one test and the home ground produced a road, then Barry Richards suggested a 6 day test championship. Nice.
Then after a brief period of talking about boundary ropes and big bats (Courtney Walsh just wanted fast pitches to batsmen couldn’t carry heavy bats) they talked about how poorly test cricket is marketed compared to IPL and T20 cricket.
I suggested that the reason could be that T20 is a rather simple format to market and that marketing test cricket is harder because of the nuance.
Now here is my mistake, or not, no one jumped in to answer it straight away, so I continued, I then said that T20 is like ‘Dude, where’s my car’, whereas test matches are more like art films. I framed the question to Shaun Pollock, but Sam Stow, of all out cricket, was watching Steve Waugh whose face drew a complete blank. I’m sure Tony Lewis’ did as well.
After the press conference finished I went up to the front to pick up my phone and Steve Waugh had questions for me.
“Dude, Where’s my car, never seen that film, mate, what’s it like anyway?”
This time I didn’t freeze like I did a year earlier. I wasn’t going to be intimidated by him twice in a row, so I fired back.
“It’s a good one, I’d think you’d like it”.
He laughed and said.
“You guys must be young, I’ve never heard of it.”
Never heard of ‘Dude, where’s my car’, how is that possible?
So this is for Steve and all you who have never seen the film that is allegedly one of Kim Jong-Il’s favourites.
Just some quick things I forgot to mention, check out the next podcast and you can hear Steve ask about the film, Barry Richards and Majid Khan opened the window without grace or style and would you let KP coach your kids?
I’ve decided to pick a team of football from what cricket has to offer. It wouldn’t win the world cup, but I think I’d enjoy watching them play.
Striker
Sachin– sure he is not gifted with the most athletic frame, but like a non mental Diego Maradonna more than makes up with it with the ability to score at will and carry a team. Has had some pretty handy world cups already.
Striker
Pollard – big strong and has great club form, picked for his ability to turn only a few opportunities into goals. People worry that he has never done anything at international level to justify his millionaire status. He doesn’t seem to mind. Probably not adverse to the odd dive and handy with headers.
Left Midfield
Sulieman Benn – Occasional brilliance is often overshadowed by talk of his height and temper. Only player to be sent off by his own captain after a bad tackle and bad attitude. It is never clear if he ever tries to actually hit the ball in a tackle.
Centre Midfield
Ponting– Scores more than most, but is still a very heavy handed defender. Is quick, plays well of both feet, is a winner, but can lose his temper at times. Has won at the top level a few times before. Doesn’t like being substituted.
Centre Midfield
Mark Boucher – A tough team player. Like a rugged family sedan, once you have him there you’d know that spot was well taken care of. Yet you’d still drop him from time to time to see if you have someone younger or flashier. He might misread how much injury time is left in big games.
Right Midfield
Paul Collingwood – Often thought of as nothing more than a defender who plays midfield, yet he can score on occasions and is always important at the end of matches. Only has a right foot, and this often makes his ungainly style look even uglier than it would normally.
Left Back
Ray Price – Hard as nails, ready to hack you just for fun, always slower than the men he is defending. No one ever gets past him with the ball and their shins.
Centre Back
Charl Langeveldt – Steady, consistent, easily droppable, and dependable. He will have been in and out of the team for years. The sort of defender that gets no headlines but does the job when you can’t find anyone better.
Centre Back
Kumar – Silky smooth defender that makes the opposition strikers feel ungainly in comparison. Always takes a piece of the ball, is the captain, penalty taker, and pin up boy of the team. Also the most likely to put off the opposition when they’re taking a penalty.
Right Back
Harbhajan Singh – An attacking insane defender who loves to take free kicks from 40 yards believing that he can score a goal. Mostly he’ll miss by a mile, but every now and then he’ll score. Will also be red carded for the occasional slap.
Keeper
Rahul Dravid – Nothing gets past Rahul. Sure there are times he is less animated than an East German goal keeper, but would you ever back yourself to get through him?
Manager
Jamie Siddons – All the best managers have trouble keeping their emotions in check, Siddonds fits this well. With him in full view of the cameras you can really see the veins almost explode in his head as the other team score.
Sachin Tendulkar and Rahul Dravid have played international cricket with each other for over 14 years.
They probably know what each other likes for breakfast, what they clothing they sleep in and what kind of dirty films they like to watch.
They’ve shared the highs of beating Australia in Australia and the low of playing with Agit Agarkar.
So when Rahul edges a ball to slip and Sachin claims the catch you expect nothing more than Rahul trudging off.
That didn’t happen.
Instead Rahul stood his ground.
It was a glorious moment.
As he stood his ground I felt bonded to Rahul, I believe walking is for people who don’t own cars to take through the drive-thru at Maccas.
And here was Rahul, doubting the word that many people count as the word of God in India.
That takes balls, but it also takes a certain amount of miss-trust.
If Rahul was Ricky Ponting and Sachin was Steve Waugh, you’d expect this type of miss-trust. Australians don’t walk when their mother tells them she has claimed the catch, especially our mothers.
This was India, and thusly, funny as hell.
Had Rahul been wrong, it might have not been as funny, but he was not wrong to stay at the crease.
It was one of “those” catches. The sort that Andrew Strauss and Ab DeVilliers have claimed only to look like dirty assed cheats later on. One that on the close in replay looked like there was more than a touch of grass on it.
Ofcourse all of these catches close to the ground are hard to take a firm stance on, the ball looked like it hit the ground, but it looked like from straight on, and they often do. From straight on the ground has no arch, and Sky tests have shown that balls that are caught clean can look like they hit the ground.
Who knows whether Sachin’s was a case of cheating or 2D trickery? I prefer to think of him as cheating, as that makes him more like me, and I like him more for that.
It was by far the most interesting part of the IPL semi final since no one turned up to cuff Modi.
It was also a lovely bit of unsporting Australian style cricket by two Indian legends.
This was originally on cricinfo, but, even without swearing and perversions, I really liked it. for some reason I forgot to put it up before.
If the apocalypse were to come tomorrow, most of us would be dead. But if Hollywood has taught us anything it is that people always survive. While Kallis, Ponting and Dhoni wouldn’t make it, there would be cricketers who would. And it isn’t always the most popular or talented who survive the end times.
Nathan Hauritz cannot be killed by bombs or global pandemics. This is a man who couldn’t get picked for his state side, averaged over 50 with the ball in first-class cricket, and now averages 30 in Test cricket. There are no weapons that can keep him down. After the apocalypse he would just roam the earth with that sweet little boyish face of his.
Ashish Nehra went through a career apocalypse, but he is back. I wouldn’t bet on him struggling to survive a worldwide nuclear war. He’d still have that look on his face too, the one that makes you wonder if he has any joy in his life. He’d be in a group that lives in Euro Disney; his role would be of the angry one who doesn’t trust anyone, but he’d be rubbish at catching food.
Kumar Sangakkara would make it through. Then, after an appropriate period, he would take over the world. Artists would carve images of him, people would refer to him as King Kumar, and he would be a fair and just leader. His leadership does have problems, but his suaveness and massive intellect mean he would run the world for at least six years. Until he wants to relax and travel.
Ian Bell can never be killed. Regardless of an apocalypse he is going to be around forever. Still looking good and not making runs. In a dystopian wasteland he’d still manage to find his way into a well-stocked mansion, with others doing the work to make up for him. Even when the whole group dies of food poisoning, Bell survives. He is like a mythical creature that way.
Brendan Nash would not only survive an apocalypse, he’d prosper. Once the world had settled, Nash would move to a new location and just tell them he was always one of them. There would be hostility towards him at first, and mild curiosity, but eventually in this new and desperate land he would come in handy and people would even start to love having him around.
Paul Harris would survive. He might mutate a bit, but like a cockroach or a tax officer he cannot be eradicated. Harris will quickly improvise and become an expert scavenger and sell his goods at a reasonable price, considering the location he lives in.
The New Zealand cricket team would remain okay. They would be watching Eagle v Shark in Chris Martin’s basement when the flesh-eating disease spreads rapidly across the planet, killing everyone. Upon exiting the basement they would have some good times and some bad times, but basically they’d just survive. Even though 90% of the world’s population is dead, their crowd numbers in Test matches stay the same.
Rahul Dravid would never even notice the apocalypse. When the aliens came to kill everyone on the planet with their sonic weapons, he was batting. As we know, when Rahul is batting, nothing can stir him. Even two years after the apocalypse he is still out there, marking his guard, trying to get the sight screen to be moved and planning for what field the captain will set for the next ball.
Oh, and while I am writing this link heavy post I might as well congratulate Tasmania’s Smooth Eddie Cowan for this double hundred today. Clearly he was inspired by Sehwag, even if he didn’t know it.
It showed many things that the other English aspiring number 3s don’t have.
There were no physical deformities like Owais Shah.
No complete throwing away of a solid platform Ian Bell style.
He missed no straight ones like the artist Michael Vaughan.
And he was actually playing test cricket unlike Robert Key.
In the short term, that should be enough, he will play one more test against the Windies, and has at least two guaranteed against the Aussies unless he has some sort of breakdown.
But is he a test number 3?
There aren’t many around, New Zealand are trying their junk yard dog Flynn, Amla looks the part at times, Sarwan seems to be made to bat at 3 but can’t always be assed to do so and Younis Khan did ok for South Australia.
The three blue chip players are Ricky, King Kumar, and Rahul.
They all have things in common like aura, ego, tight techniques and freakish batting skills and fierce determination.
Rahul Dravid will block for hours at a time just to protect his wicket.
Kumar has a real hatred of going out, up there with Glenn McGrath’s.
And Ponting just hates to lose.
It is too early for Ravi to put a stamp on the position like these men, and while he might not be in their league on pure batting skill, on determination to succeed he must be almost on a par and he doesn’t suffer from a low ego.
At this stage he looks like the most likely candidate, doesn’t mean he’ll succeed.
