Glenn Phillips – lonely
Ball One – No such thing as a lunch?
A difficult, but hardly unprecedent day of weather-watching with mizzle in the air and light closing in then going out, like a diabolical visual accordion – an instrument that needs no second invitation to devilry.
So many of cricket’s issues with weather are presentational and the morning session was no exception. Announcing an early lunch at 12.20pm sounds reasonable, but the crowd were looking at sunny skies and weather apps that told them that an hour or so either side of 12.30 was the best window for play. Whether the players really were having lunch – many were on the field, warming up – doesn’t matter. Punters sitting in expensive seats in bright sunshine thinking of players tucking into New Zealand lamb, was not a good look for the game.
Ball Two – Orange lights for jaffas
England are certainly getting the rub of the green (the orange?) with umpire’s calls, but that’s a quid pro quo for bowling straight. In baseball terminolgy, they have pitched for the corners, camping on off stump with the discipline not to try for the magic ball.
It is surprising that so few batters (ex Harry Brook, Ollie Robinson and Kyle Jamieson) have tried to mess up lines and lengths by moving up and down the pitch and from side to side. Easier said than done, but would it really be any less successful than sitting, like a rabbit in the headlights, for the unplayable shooter, the jumper or jagger?
Ball Three – Busy doing nothing
I still recoil at the memory of music playing over the distance races at the London Olympics and, obviously, things have only become worse since then, short attention spans determining presentation. So it’s quaint and a little surprising that the only distraction offered to fans in long rain breaks are the (silent) highlights packages on the big screens.
Short of that, we’re just left to make our own fun, on the phone, in conversation or with a book or. perhaps, the Daily Telegraph (this is Lord’s). As you would expect of a Boomer like me, I can only approve.
Ball Four – Hit it baby one more time
England will have been pleased with the early wicket, Tom Blundell pinned LBW, but that put New Zealand firmly in “Nothing To Lose” territory with Glenn Phillips, a man whose default setting that is. With Harry Brook dropping a not far off regulation catch at second slip, a whiff of hope began to float across St John’s Wood.
It’s a curious phenomenon in Test cricket, but batters so often demonstrate the most belief in their abilities and chances of success when they are at their bleakest. Surely batters on both sides will reflect on their passivity and wonder if they ought to have shown more aggression earlier.
Ball Five –
Of course, in a match on a surface like this (if such matches exist) when the end comes, it can come very quickly. The air went out of the balloon when Devon Conway skewed an edge to gully, where Jacob Bethell, in a quiet match, took a fine catch.
England will take the win (imagine the hue and cry had they lost!) but I suspect, in their heart of hearts, they will feel some of the dissatisfaction of many looking on. It’s not that good cricket went unrewarded – and there was a lot of good cricket from those with ball in hand – but that well-conceived and well-executed defensive shots did not connect with ball because it wasn’t where it was supposed to be.
Usually, one writes, “But all that will be forgotten soon”, but, this time, I suspect not. There won’t be an asterick in the scorebook, but anyone who saw this match will carry a caveat with them, fair or not. That the match finished with a middle stump prone on the surface, was a fitting epitaph.
Ball Six – My pitch for pitch analysis
Were it not for the weather, this Test would not have gone far into Day Three with financial losses for everyone involved, if not select golf courses in Hertfordshire. A contributory factor, perhaps the main contributory factor, has been a capricious pitch that has never been better than unreliable and, at times, downright dangerous. In no way has it been acceptable.
So, what’s next?
I remain baffled as to why so few metrics and so little science is brought to bear on pitches – at least in the public domain. There is still no equivalent of golf’s stimpmeter, which dates back nearly 100 years, to measure objectively the pace of a wicket. In an increasingly data driven sport, phrases like “It’s quickened up as it has dried out” still passes for informed evaluation.
I would like to see this week’s strip taken out of commission for the rest of the season and samples taken and analysed to discover what is actually going on underfoot and what can be done to rectify it. It may be lively (to put it charitably) but it needs an autopsy. Is that too much to ask for? Well, is £100+ for a ticket?