World Cup Diary: Music to the batsmen's ears (22 May 1999)

22 May 1999

World Cup Diary: Music to the batsmen's ears

The Electronic Telegraph

Saturday: Hove

After the soggy-chips-on-damp-stony-beach essence of the opening ceremony, the World Cup finally ignited on the South Coast. Tickets changed hands for £550 a pair outside the gates as Indian supporters clamoured to see their saviour, Sachin Tendulkar, take on the confident South Africans. Over £100 million of illegal bets had been placed on the match in India.

The South Africans controlled the game with their fitness, teamwork and scientific appreciation. I had a look at the tiny earpieces worn by Hansie Cronje and Allan Donald to receive messages on the field from their coach, and visualised how widespread their use could become.

Not just for the coach to make tactical suggestions or wake up dozy fielders wandering out of position. Batsmen could also have them switched to a music channel to block out Glenn McGrath's sledging or the Indian wicketkeeper's incessant appealing. If he'd still been playing, Mike Brearley would have had it tuned to a Schubert symphony instead of having to whistle it himself while batting.

Scientists in Pretoria are working on a miniature two-way device to enable players to speak to the coach or even each other. This would save a lot of time and effort. It could be used to congratulate or commiserate with the bowler or tell him about the gorgeous blonde in the fourth row without having to run all the way in from the boundary to join the huddle. Those purists demanding better over-rates and less rabbit on the field should campaign for their universal approval.

Monday: Chelmsford

Bangladesh, with 125 million people the second most populous cricketing country, made their World Cup debut against the least densely populated, New Zealand (three million). In spite of their considerable human resources, and their esteemed coach Gordon Greenidge, Bangladesh can't find an opening pair, and lost a wicket third ball. It underlines their driver's assertion that before the match they had been "crapping themselves".

They were soon 40 for four but their 1,500 supporters were in fine voice, and banged anything they were allowed to bring in. Since many were employees or owners of curry houses (95 per cent of the UK's Taj Mahals and Raj Palaces are run by Bangladeshis), the most common instrument was a pan and ladle.

Glasgow has 5,600 curry houses, the most in Britain. The Bangladeshi support for their match in Scotland on Monday will be huge and deafening. These will be infiltrated by a number of plain-clothes police since the Bangladesh team have already received two bomb threats.

Wednesday: Leicester

India took the field without Tendulkar, who was on his way home to his father's funeral. Tendulkar wears the No 10 shirt so coveted by other playmakers like France's Zinedine Zidane, though the Indian willow prince chose it purely because it fits his name. As it happens the match was turned on its head by a tenor.

Zambian-born Henry Olonga, Zimbabwe's first black player, preferred sport to a place at the Royal College of Music ("My repertoire ranges from Handel to Gilbert and Sullivan," he said). Apart from his musicality and fast bowling, he is also a champion 100 metres sprinter. He only needs to be offered the kingdom of Nkongsamba to become a modern-day C B Fry. Come to think of it, he could be useful supplying the sledging-blocking ditties in the batsmen's earpieces.

Olonga, a devout man who is rarely seen without the Bible, said he felt before the match that he had "a date with destiny". His final three-wicket over certainly seemed fuelled by some immortal force. Not for the first time either. "In Pakistan everyone agreed he was as quick as Shoaib Akhtar," his wicketkeeper, Andy Flower, said.

We won't ever know who is the fastest of them all at this World Cup, because no sponsor would stump up £500,000 to install speed guns everywhere. Still, If Shoaib bowls at 96mph and Olonga at 92, as has been recorded, their balls, if released simultaneously, would arrive at the batsman's end 0.02 sec apart, Shoaib's 33 inches ahead. If you've ever wondered what is meant by "an extra yard of pace" now you know.

Friday: Dublin

The wind-assisted waywardness of the West Indians pushed the World Cup wide tally well into the 300s. Are mobile phones or laptops at matches corrupting bowler's radars? I think red balls are to blame. Those in use in World cricket have become so unpolishable they were impossible to swing. But the heavily lacquered white ball bananas round corners, forcing bowlers to rapidly reacquaint themselves with a fragile art. It's one of life's minor mysteries that an out-

swinger directed outside off stump will curve away dramatically, but one bowled at middle will veer stubbornly towards the leg side. The white ball just exacerbates these perversions. And then the umpires do their scarecrow impressions.

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