Freshly salted English slugs revert to type (31 May 1999)

31 May 1999

Freshly salted English slugs revert to type

Martin Johnson

Separated though they were by 60-odd miles of the M6, it was a distressingly familiar day in the recent history of Australian and English cricket. Whenever these two sides find themselves confronted by a do-or-die situation, one of them snarls like a doberman greeting the new postman, while the other one is more inclined to react like a freshly salted slug.

Back in Australia, they would have been surprised by neither result, and it wasn't hard to conjure up images of breakfast table conversations in Wodonga and Wollongong. "Anything interesting in the paper, dear?" "Nah, same old stuff. There's been a bush fire in Sydney, the Aborigines want their land back, and the Poms are out of the World Cup."

Many of the spectators at Old Trafford were earplugged into the radio commentary at Edgbaston, listening to England saying goodbye to the carnival of cricket, with felicitious timing, 24 hours before the release of the official World Cup song. Sadly, the words just won't have the same meaning for them now.

"Heroes come and heroes go, Wise men watch the river flow, as man is tough, woman is strong, the universe is just one song. The meek and the gentle will inherit the stars, Men from Venus, women from Mars. Everybody, everybody, all over the world, life is a carnival." (copyright: Ted Hughes/Merv Hughes).

However, England's supporters can console themselves with the news of Carnival of Cricket: Darren Gough's World Cup Review - a home-movie video which will, according to the blurb, "feature never-before seen footage of behind-the-scenes action, specially shot by Darren himself". An hour and a half of non-stop action, including, no doubt, behind-the-scenes, never-before seen footage of our Darren bowling inswinging yorkers to young Liam on the back lawn, and Mrs Gough appearing on the patio and calling the boys in for tea.

England's fans will also be able to take heart from the media bulletin issued by World Cup tournament director Terry Blake, offering his personal assurances that, despite the elimination of the host nation, "the carnival of cricket will continue". The tournament director's upbeat oratory will have reassured everyone bar the Blake family cat, who will have heard the key turning in the front doorlock, and promptly done a bunk.

Blake is a key figure in the ECB marketing department, which, not for the first time, is wishing it had an easier product to sell. "Excuse me, sir, we were wondering if your company would like to invest in the England cricket team? Yes, that's right, the England cricket team. Hello? Hello . . ?"

There was another bulletin at Old Trafford yesterday, revealing that the Pepsi drinks buggy was being driven by none other than Dwight Yorke. Gough, now searching for ways to get his camcorder closer to the action, will be next to volunteer for the Pepsi chauffeur's cap, and the buggy would also be a handy cover for News of the World reporters trying to find out what's really inside those Gatorade bottles.

It is ironic now to think, as the cynically inclined may well do, that this event was scheduled for this time of year to increase England's chances of winning, and yesterday's game in Manchester -where most of the millionaires are umbrella salesmen - was another bowler-friendly affair involving a crucial toss.

Brian Lara lost it, and on a morning made to measure for Glenn McGrath, lost his wicket to a delivery that was as near to being unplayable as makes no difference. It pitched on middle, changed direction at around 85mph, and hit the top of off. Bradman in his pomp might, just might, have been good enough to edge it to the wicketkeeper.

It was propelled on the same ground and from the same end as Shane Warne's so-called Ball of the Century to Mike Gatting. Warne now sports a figure not unlike the former England captain's, and since his shoulder operation, rarely bowls the ball of the session never mind the century.

Warne was also involved in one of two dubious claims for a slip catch when he scooped up the ball on what the third umpire adjudged, via compelling TV evidence, to be a half-volley. Stuart Williams did the same in the Australian innings, and it now needs a very long memory to recall the days when batsmen walked on a fielder's nod.

The most cynical passage of play, however, was reserved for the moment the Australians, having emerged from a searching examination against Ambrose in their quest for 111 to win, deliberately began batting like Boycott and Tavare in a Test match in an effort to win with as few balls to spare as possible.

This was because a heavy West Indian loss would have made New Zealand's task of qualifying today much simpler - and if New Zealand go through, Australia take nil points into the Super Six as opposed to two. Besides which, they dislike New Zealand almost -but not quite - as much as New Zealand dislike them.

As far as the Kiwis are concerned, who still haven't forgotten Trevor Chappell bowling underarm - and underhand - when they wanted six to win off the last ball of a one-day game in 1981, the only serious contender for the world's thinnest book is The Australian Guide to Cricketing Chivalry.

Source :: Electronic Telegraph (https://www.telegraph.co.uk)