Twenty20 Cricket–Follow the money

Last week for the fifth year in a row I went with my family to see a Big Bash Twenty20 match at the Adelaide Oval. It has become a bit of an annual event for my family, as we always go back to South Australia for Christmas and the interstate Twenty20 competition usually starts in the first week of January. My parents and in-laws, uncles, aunts, cousins are members of Adelaide Oval (I was too before I left SA 15 odd years ago) and so it’s always nice to go along, sit in the pathetic excuse for a grandstand that is the Sir Don Bradman stand and watch some cricket. This year the new western stands were up and so I was quite eager to see how they compared to the old pre-war vintage ones (answer – they are brilliant).

Now five years ago I went along to the game with great misgivings. I hated Twenty20 cricket; thought it a mockery wrapped in a travesty inside a disgrace. I viewed it as only a small step up from the idiotic beach cricket that XXXX were putting on each summer for a while (seriously guys, any time you organise an event where Allan Border – old Captain Grumpy – is supposed to be the life of the event, you know you’ve got a dud concept).

The first Twenty20 game I saw was an international one between Australia and somebody at the Gabba back in around 2004. I hated it. It was a game in which I had absolutely no care who won, and all anyone in the crowd was caring was that any batsman (it didn’t matter which side) would hit a stack of sixes.

It took  a while for the Twenty20 game to win me over as well. Back in 2008 I wrote this in a blog about test cricket:

I loathe Twenty20 - it's the only time I've ever been at a cricket match and realised the score was irrelevant.

That statement was true of the match I saw at the Gabba. By the 10 over mark I wouldn’t have been able to tell you without looking at the scoreboard how many were out – a situation that would never occur were I at a test match I didn’t even know how many runs were scored: all that mattered was someone was trying to hit a six. 

And yet in the last three years my attitude has changed completely – solely through going to watch South Australia play other states each January. 

Firstly a few things have happened during that time:

1. The game has matured.

Back when the concept started it was all smash and bash – bowlers might as well have been replaced by bowling machines – and spinners? Fuhgeddaboudit. Now the game remains lots of smash and bash, but also has shots that are nowhere to be found in coaching manuals (yet) but are much more subtle – such as chipping the ball over the wicket keeper.

Bowlers have also become much savvier. They now employ constant changes of pace, have introduced new balls like a slow bouncer (as opposed to a long hop) and they are now more realistic. Bowlers know that going for 6 runs an over is excellent – so too do their captains and the crowds.

Last week at the match, dot balls were applauded – the crowd knew how valuable was each ball and each run. Of note as well – South Australian beat Victoria by playing three spinners. So much for the bowling machine analogy.

2. The competition has come to mean something.

First rule of any game/match in any sport – ask what are they playing for. If you can’t answer the question, whatever you are watching ain’t worth spit.

It may be a Round 2 match in early April but every footy fan knows that match counts for the same amount as does one in Round 20 in late August. Watching any test match played anywhere and you know what they’re playing for – the Ashes, the Border-Gavaskar trophy etc. They’re also playing for history – test matches mean something – the test average means something. Something that a one day average never has.

Ask yourself what are England and Australia playing their seven one day games for? What is at stake? I assume it is some sponsors trophy. But it is not like the Ashes which you know comes round every 18 months – sure in 18 months we’ll play England in some one-day series (if the concept still exists). But ask yourself this: Last time we lost the Ashes in England did we win the one day series? Did you think in any way whatsoever that winning that series compensated for losing the Ashes? Of course not.

The number one problem with One Day Cricket is that for a very, very long time now (pretty much since the Benson and Hedges Trophy was taken off to the oncology ward for old trophies) no one day series played between any nation has mattered one little bit. They have all become like soccer “friendlies”. They count for nothing, are forgettable, and thus all that anyone cares about (if they care at all) is the World Cup. But here’s my suspicion – most people don’t give a damn about the One Day World Cup either now. The last one in the West Indies was a boring dirge that ended as a farce.

But let’s now talk about the Twenty20 Big Bash. Last week watching SA v NSW, everyone knew those guys were playing for keeps. There was no joking around with players wearing microphones and chatting to the commentators between balls (as will happen when Australia plays England in their Twenty20 games – seriously Channel 9 you treat a game with contempt). Every ball was intensely competed. The crowd as well knew this was a contest – and as it was an SA home ground they wanted SA to win, and win big.

Four or five years ago were SA playing NSW, the crowd would have been in raptures to see Dave Warner hit sixes for NSW against the local lads. Last week however, while there was applause and appreciation when he put one on the roof of the Chappell Stands, there was also a good deal of groaning. In the past three years, for spectators the game has moved from being a spectacle to being a contest.

Three nights ago I watched SA play Victoria on Foxtel and I found myself doing the same dopey routines I do when watching the Adelaide Crows play an AFL game. I was tense. I was angry and abusive at the TV screen. I was criticising bowling changes being made; I was picking apart batting as I would the Crows’ goal kicking. I wanted my side to win, and I didn’t give a stuff how many sixes were hit.

The players of course know that the rewards for winning the competition are huge – as it means entry in the the world club competition. It is easy to suggest that such a thing devalues the competition – that it only means something because of something external. And yes that is true, but it is a bit like suggesting the Division One football league in England doesn’t really mean anything because clubs are most excited about winning because it gets them promoted to the Premier League.

The fact remains that this is a competition which goes somewhere. The one day interstate competition goes nowhere. The players know it, and the crowds sure as hell do as well – which is why 17,000 showed up to watch the SA-NSW Twenty20 game and when the two sides play a one day game it’ll be family, friends and cricket tragics only.

3. The money

This is the big one. The Indian Premier League throws around more money than Kerry Packer at the Vegas baccarat tables. The players know it is the one form of cricket which can land them a big pay day, and thus they have quickly come to realise that the game is not something to be taken lightly – work hard at this game and you can set yourself up for life.

Now in many ways this aspect is the most dangerous for cricket, but while we may like to deride the disgusting greed of it all, there is no doubt that the public also likes big money. It is something that raises the interest for fans. When you know that Cameron White was bought for $1.1 million in the latest IPL auction that grabs non-cricket fans’ attention in much the same way as people who are not particularly art lovers will pay to go see art work that they know is worth tens of millions of dollars. If someone is paying a million dollars for a guy, people are interested to see why he is worth so much, and they also feel comforted that they are going to get their money’s worth.

For me the good thing about the money is that finally young cricketers have something to aim for other than making the Australian 11. To me the narrow nature of the pinnacle of the game has done more than any other aspect to bring Australian cricket to the current state it finds itself. In the past 10 –15 years any young talented sports player would have looked at the Australian cricket team and realised there was bugger all chance they were going to get in, and so the lure of AFL (especially) and basketball (to a lesser extent) was too great. Why play state cricket with no/little hope of playing for Australia when you could get drafted by an AFL team at the age of 18 and within a year be playing at the highest level?

Now… well, here’s the list of Australian players who got bought in the IPL. Those who played in the Ashes tests are in blue:

* David Hussey - $1.5 m
* Cameron White - $1.1 million
* Daniel Christian - $900,000
* Adam Gilchrist - $900,000
* Andrew Symonds - $850,000
* David Warner - $750,000
* Doug Bollinger - $700,000
* Dirk Nannes - $650,000
* Brad Hodge - $425,000
* Michael Hussey - $425,000
* Shaun Marsh - $400,000
* Brett Lee - $400,000
* James Hopes - $350,000
* Brad Haddin - $325,000
* Ryan Harris - $325,000
* Callum Ferguson - $300,000
* Shaun Tait - $300,000
* Aaron Finch - $300,000
* Mitchell Marsh - $290,000
* Tim Paine - $270,000
* Steven Smith – $200,000
* Clint McKay - $110,000
* James Pattinson - $100,000
* Ben Hilfenhaus - $100,000
* Matthew Wade - $100,000
* Andrew McDonald - $80,000
* Andrew McDonald - $80,000
* Michael Klinger - $75,000
* George Bailey - $50,000
* Luke Pomersbach - $50,000
* Moises Henriques - $50,000
* Stephen O'Keefe - $20,000
* Aiden Blizzard - $20,000
* Chris Lynn - $20,000

Yep – Doug Bollinger got the highest amount for test players. For some that may merely serve to highlight all that is wrong with the game, but for any teenager who plays the game at a high level it will only serve to get them to think “Clint McKay is getting a $110,000 for six week’s work? That could be me… and Dan Christian? Well hell, give me some of that action!” And thus they’ll be more likely to stay in the game rather than try and get drafted in the AFL (it is astonishing how many good cricketers are also good at another sport).

Players will always follow the money. Sure Ricky Ponting and Michael Clarke will give up the IPL riches in favour of test cricket (yeah that strategy worked well) but they will be in the minority.

And anyone who criticises the players for taking the money – such as those like Rod Marsh who had a go at Shaun Tait for not bothering to play test cricket – need to ask themselves when was the last time they turned down $300,000. Someone should also ask what the hell Rod Marsh was doing in the 1970s when he turned his back on test cricket to play World Series Cricket?

Marsh said:

“We've become too professional – we've got to get back to basics.”

To which I say, bullshit Rod – the basics of the game has always been (at least for Australians) about making money. Dave Gregory – the first Australian test captain – made damn sure Australians got a share of the gate on the first tours of England (Malcolm Knox’s excellent history – The Captains – relates all the details).

There is a stupidity applied by people to sportsmen that seems to suggest they should act different to everyone else – that they shouldn’t leave a footy club to play for another because they can get more money, or that they should forgo financial security in favour of the vagaries of the Australian test cricket selection panel.

There was just one reason Rod Laver, Ken Rosewall et al stopped playing Wimbledon and other Grand Slam events and representing Australia in the Davis Cup in favour of playing on the professional tennis circuit in the 1950s and 1960s. Money.

Sure the tennis players went from amateur to professional so the money issue was more stark, but at the end of the day it is their profession – and like any profession the best will go wherever they can get the best security and pay. Bemoan it all you like, but spare me talk of the good old days when playing for the baggy green was all that mattered. There have been a hell of a lot of excellent state cricketers who never got the glories of the baggy green because of subjective choices made by the selection panel. Boof Lehmann spent his best years in state cricket all because guys like Mark Waugh could have the longest run of bad trots and still not lose their spot. Why put your livelihood in the hands of 4 guys when you can become a millionaire representing the Mumbai Indians? (Ask Brad Hodge just how subjective the baggy green selection can be…)

Twenty20 will keep the best young players in the game. Sure they may not all become great Test players, but it will broaden the sample.

So in three years I have gone from an ardent critic to and ardent supporter of Twenty20. Perhaps some of this can be reduced to one final aspect:

4. It is great for families.

My seven year old daughter (try though I might) could not give a stuff for test cricket. I would try and tell her about the players, try and get her excited by the play, but to no avail.

Two nights ago she jumped out of her bath and ran into the living room holding onto her towel and leaving a trail of wet footprints in her wake because she was worried she was going to miss seeing Kerion Pollard bat for the Redbacks. 

She loves the game.

It is three hours long, it is in the evening and not in the heat of the day, and every ball matters, so your attention is focused the entire time.

Now you may say I am foolish to encourage a game based on the fact that it suits a seven year old’s attention span, but really my point is more that the game suits families. It suits people who work – they can still go to the game. It suits parents because they only have to keep their kids excited for three hours. A one day game goes for ten hours. Ten hours. Try keeping kids sitting and being excited for that long.

I love test cricket, but it’s got to be a damn good match to have me wanting to pony up the money for me and my family to go see a day’s play. Australia versus New Zealand ain’t going to cut it (which happens this November-December). I’ll watch the day’s play on TV, but usually it’s on in the background – I’ll come and go, be doing other things, and then concentrating only during certain periods. (I won’t even bother with the one day games – I’ll be watching the Australian Open tennis).

But the Twenty20? I’m there glued to the screen, and if possible going to see the game live.

I don’t agree with those who think Twenty20 is the enemy of test cricket – sure there will need to be care to ensure the two can co-exist – but for mine the only game to be worried about Twenty20 is one day cricket, and that is no loss.

My ideal scenario is October-November-December is for Tests at the international level and Sheffield Shield at the domestic. Then the New Year’s Day Test in Sydney marks the end of international cricket for the season. From then on for 6-8 weeks the domestic Twenty20 competition takes over – with all the test players playing. The Aussie comp will never get the big money like the IPL, but it will allow many to earn a living, and it will provide a great competition for many to follow and enjoy. Have one or two international Twenty20s at the end – but only as friendlies for the Twenty20 world cup – the key is to ensure the domestic comp is the main focus – make sure every game actually means something.

We can put our hands over our ears and eyes and hope the Twenty20 fad goes away, or we can see the future and ensure there is a decent competition in Australia which provides an avenue for Australians to play at the highest level. The IPL might have the money, but Cricket Australia should be aiming for the Australian Premier League to have the bigger crowds and the better standard of play.

And also for there to be lots of young Australians on both sides of the fence.

C’mon Punter – put your hand up and go

Back in January 2009 I wrote a post examining Mathew Hayden’s comments that the decision on whether or not he should tour England for the 2009 Ashes series was basically up to him committing to do so. I thought that insufferably arrogant and had a look at his last 15 innings to see where he was situated compared to other players who had been given a push rather than been able to say whether or not they were committed to playing.

Here’s what I found:

Matthew Hayden - Average 26.4, Nil 100s, 2 50s, top score 83.
Greg Blewitt - Average 30.9; Nil 100s; two 50s; top score 89.
Darren Lehmann - Average 28.6; Nil 100s; five 50s, top score 70.
Michael Slater - Average 39.8; Nil 100s; three 50s, top score 86.
Mark Waugh - Average 33.7; Nil 100s; two 50s, top score 86.

Then there were two players who jumped before the push:

Justin Langer - Average 33.6; one 100; one 50; top score 100*.
Adam Gilchrist: Average 35.2; one 100; four 50s; top score 102*

Then there were two who were a bit above the average:

Greg Chappell - Average 52.3, three 100s, two 50s, top score 182.
Steve Waugh - Average 53.2, two 100s, three 50s, top score 115. (minus two matches against Zimbabwe and Bangladesh)

Now the reason of course I am revisiting this issue is because of Ricky Ponting. Here’s his last 15 innings:

Ricky Ponting: Average 29.6; Nil 100s; five 50s; top score 77.

His average is worse than all the above bar Hayden and Lehmann. His number of 50s is good with five – the most, but Lehmann also had made five and it came to signify that he couldn’t go on and make a big score. His top score of 77 is second lowest (Lehmann’s 70 is the worst).

Now were he not the captain we wouldn’t be having this discussion. Ponting would be gone. It would be a thanks for your career, but time waits for no man yada yada. Enjoy racing your greyhounds. (Let’s forget this drop him down the order stuff – you do that for younger guys who were tried at number 3 but couldn't cut it – eg Steve Waugh.)

But as the Captain to dump him, means we need to replace not only his spot at number three (a pretty easy choice given NSW’s Usman Khawaja is sitting there champing at the bit to go, and averaging 52.83), so then I guess we give the captaincy to his deputy, Michael Clarke.

This could be done – there is precedent – Bill Lawry was dumped as captain mid-way through the 19780-71 Ashes series and Ian Chappell took over, and Kim Hughes jumped before being pushed in the 1984-85 series against the West Indies.

However, here we hit a snag. Here’s Michael Clarke’s last 15 innings record:

Michael Clarke: Average 24.8; Nil 100s; three 50s; top score 80.

That ain’t good. In fact were he not Michael Clarke and he came from New South Wales (yeah that’s an anti-NSW dig) he too would likely be bidding farewell to the glories of the baggy green.

Make no mistake, Ponting is not still in the team and captain because of his leadership qualities or because he is such an integral part of the dressing room furniture. It is because the selectors believe there is no one to take his place.

No sure, he might come out in the second innings and hit a big hundred and he can turn to the camera and say up yours to the bloggers of the world, but even if he does I still think he should say, well that just buys me one final chance to say goodbye in Sydney, and then he should depart. The guy is 36. Thirty six! When Greg Chappell retired he was 35. I remembered because he was my absolute idol (my name is Greg after all), and even then I thought him ancient.

Modern medicine is all nice and great, but time does not wait for any man, and if Australia wants to make it ok for a 36 year old to average less than 30 and still bat number 3, then it sets a pretty low bar for the rest of the players. The Australian captain has always been the first among equals – he gets his place in the side because of his abilities as a player, not as a  captain.

If Clarks is not up to it, that doesn’t mean Ponting by default should be (because after all, it’s not like he is a master tactician). Brad Haddin is 33, but he is as safe in his spot as anyone. He has captained NSW, so let him captain for a couple years until one of the younger guys steps up, or at least reaches a level of maturity supposedly required of the position – who knows that person may not even be playing at the moment. 

I have been a Ponting fan for most of his career, but as happened with Hayden, Mark Waugh, Langer, and the others at the end of their careers, when I watch him bat, part of me hopes he fails because I know another innings of 70 odd or more will only serve to convince him that he is good to play till the next Ashes series. And let’s cut the bull, there is no way in hell that can be allowed to happen.

Let’s bid adieu now while we still remember him as one of the greatest batsmen of his generation, and not as the guy who we kept on because there was no one else we thought could do his job.

9 Reasons why Baseball is better than Cricket

I realise of course this is absolutely the wrong time to write this blog – it should be done next year as the baseball season begins, but I said I’d write it now, so here it is (I’ll probably just repost it in April!)

Comparing baseball with cricket is a somewhat fraught exercise, but given cricket’s seeming desire to make itself more and more like baseball, it can be quite easily done, especially if the focus is on comparing baseball to one day and Twenty20 cricket. Test matches are a supreme life form that I will not hear criticism of (well unless it is criticism that agrees with my own!), but that said there are still an easy nine reasons why baseball is better than all forms of cricket:

1. It’s over in 3-4 hours:

The time factor is the big thing that kills one day cricket – it goes for one whole day! My family were all members of Adelaide Oval, and when I was a kid and we went to the one day games to see Australia play Sri Lanka or some lightweight team, I always hoped that Sri Lanka would bat first. They would be lucky to get much over a hundred, meaning that Australia would be a good chance to knock them off quickly and we could go home early.  I hated it when Australia batted first, made 300 and then Sri Lanka (or whoever) would eke out 150-200 over the fifty overs. We never went home early, and I just hated the whole thing (mostly because back then Adelaide Oval didn’t have lights and the match would be played during the day in 40C heat).

Test matches of course take 5 days, but on this category I’ll let that pass (and besides a test match day only goes for 6 hours, not the 8-9 of a one day game).

In baseball you’re looking at around 3-4 hours for each game. It means they can start playing at around 8pm. Yeah they’ll have a late finish, but you’re able to go to work and then come home and watch the game. This is the one reason why Twenty20 cricket has been popular. People do not want to spend all day watching a sport. The most popular sports to watch are all the forms of football – be they NRL, AFL, NFL or soccer. All of them are done and dusted in under 3 hours or so (NFL can drag out a bit). In, out, done, rest of the day or night to do other things.

So the brevity of baseball has it all over cricket, except…

2. It may never end:

A cricket match is 20 overs long, 50 overs long or a 5 day test. And once that set amount of overs or time has been reached, that’s it. Game over. In baseball (at least in the major league version) there are no ties, and so if the game is all square after nine innings, then the teams keep going until one team has a lead after a complete innings. Theoretically a baseball game can just keep going, much like the 5th set of a Grand Slam tennis match (except, ironically, in the US Open). It means a game can turn into a war of attrition where heroes can emerge in the 14th innings at 2am.

But the best aspect of the fact that the game may never end is…

3. It’s never over till it’s over

Twenty20 and one day games are all devised to try and produce a close result. I have seen quite a few Twenty20 games live, and I think only one has been close. A close one day game? More the exception than the rule. And why is this so? Because once your 10 men are out, that’s it, and once your 50 or 20 overs are bowled, then that’s it. So if you are 40 runs down with 2 overs to go. Well let’s be honest it ain’t going to happen and if it does it is remarkable. If you have 10 overs to go and you’re down to your last 2 batsmen, likewise, forget about it, the game is over.

In baseball however look at this example from the world series Game 4. It is the top of the 9th innings. The Yankees are down 3-4. There are two outs. Johnny Damon is batting, the count is 1-2 (one ball, two strikes) meaning Philadelphia are one strike out away from winning. Damon proceeds to get two more balls and also fouls off five pitches. On his ninth pitch he hits a single. Mark Teixeira is up next. Damon steals 2nd base, and then seeing no one is on 3rd, he steals that as well. Teixeira gets hit by a pitch and moves to 1st base. Up next in Alex Rodriguez. He hits  double, Damon scores, Teixera moves to 3rd. The scores are now tied. Next up for the Yankees is their catcher, Jorge Posada. He fouls the first two pitches, and is thus on 2 strikes. Again Philadelphia is one strikeout away from ending the innings. On his fifth pitch, Posada hits a single and both Teixeira and Rodriguez score. The score is now Yankees up 6-4.

And the thing is, while that is a great comeback, it is not all that uncommon. In fact it is expected of the best players that they can come through “in the clutch”. The best players are those who get hits when it is close and tight in the last couple innings. If the team is down by 2 runs, and there are 2 runners on the base, it’s the 9th innings and there are two outs, well no one in the crowd is leaving – and if you are considered the best hitter on the team, the opposition might even intentionally walk you just so you don’t hit a home run.

Such comebacks are so common that specialized pitchers called “closers” have the job of closing out the game in the last two (or one) innings. The reason they have this job is because the game is never over till it’s over. You’re down 9 runs with one innings to go? Are you going to win? Probably not. Can you win? Absolutely. You can be one pitch away from being out, but that doesn’t mean you can’t still win.

In many ways, baseball scoring is again more like tennis than say cricket. You can be down 2 sets to love, and down 40-15, 5-0 in the third. Will you win? Unlikely. Can you win? Absolutely. In cricket, you’re nine wickets down, one over to go, and 30 runs shorts? Can you win?. No. In fact, most likely half the crowd has already gone home.

4. Every pitch matters but some matter more than others

Cricket is a leisurely game to watch. The bowler takes a long run up, runs in and delivers the ball. The batsman lets it go through to the keeper, and everyone goes back to talking to their mate, or reading the paper. In a cricket match, you only need to look at the play for that second or so that the bowler delivers the ball and the batsmen either hits it or lets it go. Once it has been fielded, unless it is a run out chance, you can look away for 30 seconds. If the captain decides to change the field then make it a minute.

You can’t look away during a baseball game. The pitcher doesn't need to run in, and if there is a runner on one of the bases you have to watch even before the pitch is made to see if he is going to try and steal a base. Every pitch could be a home run. And yes every ball in cricket could be a wicket, but it is the intensity of watching baseball that makes it so different. The time between pitches is less than in cricket, the pace of the game is so much quicker.

There are also less opportunities in a baseball game where you can go off and get something to eat. In a one day game, or test match, there are ample times when your can go out for a while, knowing it is pretty likely when you get back not much will have changed. In baseball in the matter of a few pitches the whole game can change. A pitcher can be cruising along, with 2 outs in an innings, he walks a batter, the next gets a single, the next hits a home run, those last two things could have happened from just two pitches. And boom, what was once a no hitter is suddenly a 3 run game, with one out still to get, and the next batter up could be in great form and before you know it you’re thinking this could be a blow out. And yet just four pitches before you were thinking the pitcher was cruising.

Now maybe that happens a bit  in Twenty20 cricket, where one over can change a match, but it rarely happens in test cricket – and it may happen in one over out of 90 in a day’s play. In baseball every innings can be like that. Getting that last out is crucial, and it can all go so bad for a team so very quickly.

5. It comes down to moments

In some ways this is a colliery to reason 4 and reason 3. In Game 6 of the World Series, the Phillies were down 7-3 in the 7th innings. They had two outs, but there were two runners on base. Up to the plate came Chase Utley, the 2nd baseman for Philadelphia, who in the first 5 games of the World Series had hit 5 home runs – 2 in Game 1 and and 2 again in Game 5. This guy was in seriously good form, and could hit the ball a mile. If he hit another Home Run, Philadelphia would be down only 1 run with 2 innings still to go, if he got out, it is unlike he would have got another chance to hit in the game. This was a key moment. Yankees relief pitcher Damaso Marte struck him out with three pitches. From that point on the Yankees looked unlikely to lose.

And every game in baseball has these types of moments. It might come in the first innings when the bases are loaded, or the last innings when one runner is on. You never know when, but they’re always there, and they crop up regularly. In cricket it just doesn’t happen that way. A batsmen may come in at a crucial time for the team – they might be down 3 wickets for bugger all runs. But what that batsman (and his partner) needs to do is make a century which means he needs to stay in for 2-3 hours. That ‘moment’ is actually half a day long. The only time a cricket match ever gets down to a moment is if 6 or less runs are needed off the last ball. And that doesn’t happen often. 

Baseball isn’t just about close endings, it’s about tense moment all the way throughout the game.

6. Everyone gets a second chance

Imagine going to a cricket match, and you are all excited because you know a great batsman – say a Tendulker or a Lara is going to be batting that day.  He comes to the wicket, and the ball moves off the seam, he edges it and he is caught behind for a duck. Everyone in the crowd roars in a cheer but then they groan knowing they won’t get to see him bat. In baseball every player can count on getting on average four chances to hit. If you are a top player, the likelihood is at least 3 of those opportunities with be “a moment” in the game, a time where the crowd will be inching forward in anticipation of seeing something happen.

Not only do players get a second change, so too do the spectators. Every batter gets another chance, and everyone knows that you can’t expect the batter to get a hit every time. For here is the most stunning thing for cricket fans about baseball –if you get a hit 3 times out of 10 in a season, you’re doing very well. If you average a hit 4 times out of 10, you’re a legend.

7. The statistics

This season, Yankees captain Derek Jeter hit .334 (ie he had a hit 33.4% of the time), but if you include walks and hit by pitches, he got on base 40.6% of the time (what’s called an on base percentage – OBP – of .406). In innings from the 7th innings on he batted .341, in day games he batted .347, in night games it was .328. He averaged a walk 10.1% of the time he went to bat; his ratio of ground balls to fly balls was 1.21:1; he averaged 3.82 pitches per plate appearance. And I could go on and on and on. Baseball loves statistics. You can find out each player’s batting average against each pitcher, what their average is when the count is 1 ball-1 strike, what percentage of balls they hit to left field as opposed to right field etc etc etc. Some are pointless – do we really need to know what a player averages when the count is 2 balls and 1 strike? – others are interesting and make for great reference.

And it’s not just the averages and other statistical aspects, it’s the records that matter – Hank Aaron’s 755 home runs, Pete Rose’s 4,256 career hits, Ricky Henderson’s career 1,406 stolen bases. These matter; they are remembered.

Yes cricket has lots of stats as well, but nowhere near as many, and nowhere near the amount that can be compared to other eras. Batting and bowling averages matter – though given the size of grounds, and make of bats now, an average of 50 is perhaps a little bit devalued (but not much) – but overall records? Players play so many more test matches now than in the past that the record number of runs and wickets are meaningless. No one even bothers comparing Ponting’s total runs with Bradman’s because Bradman played so many fewer tests. But in baseball up until the middle of the last century there were 160 games a season, and now there are only 162, so career hits, runs, home runs can be compared. If you played for 15 seasons in the 1980-90s you would have played roughly the same number of games had you been around in the 1920-30s. It’s why hitting 500 home runs, 3,000 hits, or winning 300 games all mean something.

Just think about cricket; how many test runs do you need to make to be considered an all time great? 6,000? 7,000? 10,000? If someone made 4,000 runs in the 1930-40s how does that compare with someone today? You can’t say – you would need to look at their average. And it’s why statistics in cricket really don’t have the resonance that they do in baseball.

Baseball also has more records than in cricket – there is no comparison in cricket with Joe DiMaggio's 56 game hitting streak, or Nolan Ryan’s 6 no hitter games pitched. Sure cricket can come up with some stats – the site Howstat! is quite interesting, but it’ll only ever be a poor man’s Baseball Reference.

8. The history

Cricket is older than baseball, but when it comes to history, baseball has it all over cricket. In 1919 the Chicago White Sox threw the World Series, in 1923 the Yankees won their first World Series, in 1941 Joe DiMaggio produced his hitting streak and Ted Williams hit over .400 (the last person to do so), in 1947 Jackie Robinson became the first black man to play in the major leagues, in 1961 Roger Maris and Mickey Mantle engaged in a chase to break Babe Ruth’s record of 60 home runs in a season – Maris did it, hitting 61. Now I could rattle those facts off without a second thought, but I have to say I have no idea what happened in cricket in 1919, 1923, 1947 or 1961.

Heck I don’t have to even go that far back. In 1984 my football team Norwood, won the Grand Final against Port Adelaide, having come from 5th to win. I can’t remember who Australia even played in the 1984-85 summer. I think it was New Zealand – but did they play 3 tests or 5? I know Chappell, Lillee and Marsh debuted in 1970 and retired in 1983. I know World Series Cricket was between 1977-79. I know Australia won back the Ashes in 1989 – because that was the year I was in Japan, so I generally recall events of that year quite easily. But who did Australia play in 1989-90? I have no idea. I can’t even remember as I type this who they played last summer. Oh wait… it was South Africa... before that it was the Ashes, and before that… errr. But I could name the Grand Finalist each year from about 1980 without too much trouble.

And likewise with baseball. I know who the Yankees played in the 1996 World Series, and even who was MVP. Does anyone ever remember who is man of a series in a set of test matches? Who was man of the series in the last Ashes series? I have no idea and I watched every match.

But it’s not just the scores and the names, it is the way baseball is so indelibly linked with American history. In part this is because of better story telling by Americans – I hate that I know more about Shoeless Joe Jackson than I do Victor Trumper. But think about it – can you imagine the movie Bull Durham being about cricket? or Field of Dreams being Oval of Dreams? I guess they could – after all a very interesting film called Wondrous Oblivion does  convey some of the sense of joy and wonder about cricket, but somehow I doubt it would resonate as well.

For me cricket just struggles to match baseball for history – for magical moments you remember, for dates in time that you will never forget – a case in point: I was at Adelaide Oval when the West Indies beat Australia by a run, but I can’t tell you when that was – I’ll guess either 1991 or 92 because I know I was at uni at the time. In baseball the season is vital to the memory because of one absolutely vital reason…

9. It’s a club not a country

The most supported sports in the world are all forms of football. What is common about all (except Rugby Union) is that for day in day out supporters, the ultimate aim is his or her club winning the championship/Grand Final/Super Bowl. Baseball is the bat and ball game that replicates this fervour. I have never been in America, but I love the Yankees. If baseball was like cricket and America played other nations, there is no way I could get as excited – in fact I didn’t care when America played in the World Baseball Classic this year, even though a number of Yankees were playing.

The ESPN’s “Sport’s Guy” Bill Simmons is a mad Boston Red Sox and, in the NFL, New England Patriots fan. After Game 4 someone asked him if he would be happy for the Patriots not to win the Super Bowl this season, if it meant the Yankees would choke and lose the Super Bowl. He thought for a couple seconds, and then said, “yes”. The key thing about sports which involve different clubs is that not only do you want your team to win, but if your team can’t, then you want your enemy to fail. I used to say I’d be happy for the Crows to come second last, provided Port came last. I was only half joking. Now I’d say I’d be happy for the Crows to come third last provided Port and Collingwood finished below. When Geelong flogged Port in the 2007 Grand Final, I thought it was hilarious and a great game to watch. 

But with cricket? Yeah when I was young I wanted Australia to win, but by the early-mid 1990s, when the arrogance of the team became overwhelming, I have to say I didn’t mind seeing them lose. That is something I could never say about the Crows. It wouldn’t matter who played for them, I would defend them to the death, and each loss would be a small death.

In the early mid-1990s when one summer they let the Australia A side play in the one day series, a number of commentators couldn’t understand why Australian crowds would cheer for the team to beat the “Australia” side. The reason was simple – for many (especially South Australians) the Australia A side contained some favoured sons who we wanted to cheer; and in effect Australia A became our team. Yes it’s great to cheer for Australia, but there is nothing better than having a team who you feel is your own – and one you have to defend against work mates. It’s why the Indian Twenty20 is doing the right thing by making it a team competition, and why I think in Australia they should try a Twenty20 comp with more than the state sides. Have 2 teams in Adelaide, Brisbane and Perth. One from Hobart  and maybe 3-4 from Sydney and Perth. Heck even align them with footy teams – Can you imagine the Collingwood Magpies playing the Adelaide Crows in Twenty20? I don’t even care who is playing, I already want the Crows to win, and I sure as hell want them to win more than when South Australia is playing Victoria.

Baseball has teams you can follow all your life. They play 162 times a year. You can work with a baseball fan and never agree on anything. If you are a cricket fan, and you work with a cricket fan, are you ever going to have an argument about whether Australia is better than England? Not unless your workmate is English.

Playing for and supporting your country is a great thing. But it should be like playing for your country in soccer. Baseball, unlike cricket, has worked out that true passion lies in having teams to live and die for. Case in point, Johnny Damon beat the Yankees while playing for Boston in the 2004 American League. I hated him. He now plays for the Yankees and he starred in Game 4 of the World Series – so obviously he is now a great player and I won’t hear a bad thing said against him! If say Virender Sehwag suddenly got an Australian citizenship I’d be wondering what the hell he was doing trying to get a game playing for Australia, and would cheer for him somewhat reservedly – it would feel odd, because, well country is country. But if he were playing for the Adelaide Crows against Collingwood in the Australian Twenty20 Championships, then I would be crossing fingers, and toes during his innings, hoping like hell he scored a ton of runs, and cheering madly.

Country is great, but for week in week out support, you need a club, and on that baseball beats the stuffing out of cricket.

One Day is too long

Yesterday at the MCG, Australia and South Africa played a great One Day cricket match.

It was everything the game should be - good batting, bowling and fielding (with some bad examples of each thrown in). The match ebbed and flowed, and in the end South Africa won with 3 balls to spare.

And bugger all were there to watch it.

Only 39,371 people turned up to watch. By contrast, last week 62,148 people went along to watch the same two sides play a meaningless Twenty 20 game. To give the poor attendance further context, the attendance figures for the first three days of the Boxing Day Test Match at the same ground were 63,263, 42,814 and 42,079.

Now all of these figures have nothing to do with the standard of play. They have nothing to do with the players' feelings. They have nothing to do with what was on the line. The Twenty 20 game was (as is often the case) one-sided and the result was decided long before the last South African batsman was out.

But the people don't care. They like the Twenty 20 version of the game.

The players obviously care more about the one day game than the Twenty20 version - and I know this is true because last night as Nathan Bracken bowled his final over the commentators were unable to talk to him on his radio microphone. In the Twenty20 match, he was telling them what type of delivery he was going to bowl as he ran in to do so.

But so what? People like the Twenty20 version of the game.

William Goldman when writing about the success of Titanic versus the lack of success of The Postman rather pithily said that Titanic was a success because people wanted to see it; they didn't want to see The Postman. What he meant of course is that both were well made films, done by professionals with equal amounts of good and bad acting, editing, cinematography etc.

So too with cricket. Both Twenty20 and One Day cricket have good and bad batting, bowling and fielding, and also as many close matches as the other (I suspect). But people like the Twenty20 version.

The reason is obvious - the time. Watching a whole one day game is a big effort - it's 100 overs (which is 10 more overs than you get to watch in a standard day of test cricket) - whereas the Twenty20 version is done and dusted in just over 3 hours.

The great things about footy (either AFL, Rugby, Soccer, NRL) is that it's done in a short time. You can do things in the morning, go watch the game in the afternoon, and still be able to do something that evening. Or conversely if it is a night game, you know you have the whole day before the match starts.

Test and One Day cricket on the other hand wipes out the whole day - even the day-night games. It's a big ask, and one that the public seem less likely to bother accepting - especially when everyone knows that no one really cares who wins, except when it comes to the World Cup.

One Day cricket came about to spice up the game and make it palatable to fans who found test cricket too boring. They did it by shortening the game from 5 days to 1 day. All Twenty20 has done is continued the process 100 overs to 40, or 8 hours to 3 hours.

And as much as I find the game pointless, I have to admit that when I went along to watch South Australia play a couple Twenty20 games in Adelaide this month, I thought they were a good night's entertainment. The games mattered - unlike the international version, the teams seem to actually care about losing - and the game was short enough that my 5 year old daughter was able to come along and not be bored, and in fact wants to go again.

The crucial aspect for the game is of course the Indian money for IPL. When a guy who can't get a game for his state Sheffield Shield team is able to earn a good living by getting drafted by an IPL team, you know the die is cast.

Look for more and more players to be professional Twenty20 players - I believe the real beneficiaries of this will be West Indian players, who in their teens will see that money can be made playing cricket rather than having to switch to playing basketball or baseball - and look also for the first players to retire from test cricket but keep playing Twenty20 much like soccer players now do. Indeed Matthew Hayden will be making a nice little earner for himself in India this year along with other 'retired' players like Shane Warne, Glen McGrath and Adam Gilchrist.

But they retired after long careers playing test cricket. I expect future players to forgo the bother of trying to get into a test team - especially if you can earn half a million playing in India. And why should we expect any different? Just look at the players who gave up playing the Grand Slam tournaments in the 1950s and 1960s so they could play professional tennis.

Sportsmen follow the money just like everyone else does. Would you stay teaching at a nice staid old private school if a new school down the road offered you twice the salary to work there? Would you care that the school doesn't have an "old school tie" and great alumni?

I doubt it. And were I a 14 year old cricket player, I would be thinking about how much I could earn in India (Test cricket would be great, but if I can't do that then...). And so I would work on being able to hit balls for six, learning how to manufacture runs with unorthodox shots. Building a solid back defence? Learning how to leave balls? Bugger that, grandpa. 40 runs off 20 balls is better than 50 runs off 100. Especially if the first will allow me to retire at 35, and the second might find me playing district cricket and maybe one or two shield games.

So what to do?

I'll come back to that another day, but Rule Number 1 for Cricket Australia is to make the players and Channel 9 treat Twenty 20 like a sport where the result matters. Exhibition games are just fads that lose the public's interest - so they need to ditch the players wearing microphones; it just screams "I don't give a stuff".

And if Cricket Australia wants the international games to be exhibitions then that is all well and good, but then they need to treat the domestic version more seriously - go the IPL route, or at least have all test players available to play.

Twenty20 can either be a version of cricket that prospers, or a fad that ultimately dies out, having also killed off the one day game as well.

At the moment Cricket Australia are treating it like a fad.

Career Blindspot

Australia has some pretty knowledgeable sports fans, but it's rare that the crowd knows more about the game than do the players involved. In Sydney on the weekend, the crowd upon the dismissal of Matthew Hayden knew that, as it must to all sportsmen, death had come to Hayden's career.

When he was out bowled for 39, the SCG crowd rose and applauded Hayden to the boundary, not for his innings - which was risky, undisciplined and devoid of footwork - but for his career. All at the ground knew they would not see him again wearing the baggy green - or I should say, all in the crowd knew it. It seems the players in the Australian dressing room don't seem to grasp the fact - and Hayden most of all.

Today it was announced that he had been dropped from the Australian Twenty/20 and One-Day teams. Did this result in any thoughts that his time was at an end? Nope; to whit:

“For my mind it’s as simple as being committed to playing out the summer and then taking the time to either get back on the horse or make a decision not to. It’s as clear cut as that.”

Ah, so all Hayden has to do is decide whether or not he wants to play on and that's all there is to it? Sorry, but playing for Australia is not a right. Or at least it shouldn't be.

To be fair to Hayden, such a belief as his is being encouraged by the captain, Ricky Ponting. This is what Ponting said yesterday after the end of the Sydney test match:

"I'm pretty good mates with Matty, I've known him for a long time, and I've got no indication or inclination either way. He showed a lot of good signs in the second innings of this game on a pretty difficult wicket. If anything, I'd be saying it's all pretty positive that he wants to go on because otherwise I think I would have known if it wasn't that way."

Again it sounds like it is up to Hayden, when to be honest it shouldn't matter a fig whether or not he wants to play on. Wishin' and hopin' don't make things happen in the sporting world. But I guess this is just another example of why I would hate to be a cricket player. Not because of what is happening to Hayden, but for what whoever should be in his place has to go through. Cricket selection is always just that - a selective, and necessarily subjective process (in which it always helps if you're good mates with the captain).

How do you decide who is the best player to open the batting? Cricket has no head to head like tennis, no common opponent like golfers against the course. Unless you have two players playing in the same match, there is little ability to directly compare except through subjective measures - i.e opinion. And with all due respect, if the Australian selectors pick Hayden to play another test then in my opinion their opinions are wrong.

Let's look at the stats - cricket loves statistics almost as much as does baseball. I won't judge Hayden by his last 10 innings, I'll give him his last 15 innings - as Ponting likes to mention that Hayden did ok in India.

So here's the figures for his last 15 knocks:
Matthew Hayden - Average 26.4, Nil 100s, 2 50s, top score 83.

Doesn't look real flash.... but let's compare his final 15 innings to other recent Australian batsmen whose careers were ended by the selectors rather than by their own choosing:

Greg Blewitt - Average 30.9; Nil 100s; two 50s; top score 89.
Darren Lehmann - Average 28.6; Nil 100s; five 50s, top score 70.
Michael Slater - Average 39.8; Nil 100s; three 50s, top score 86.
Mark Waugh - Average 33.7; Nil 100s; two 50s, top score 86.

Now you have to say there is a fair bit of similarity about those 4 men with Hayden, except that Hayden actually has the worst average, equal least number of 50s, and the lowest top score.

Hayden's old opening batting mate Justin Langer is a case in point of a man who jumped before he was pushed. Here are his final 15 innings figures:
Justin Langer - Average 33.6; one 100; one 50; top score 100*.

Adam Gilchrist was much the same - his last 15 innings:
Average 35.2; one 100; four 50s; top score 102*

Gilchrist and Langer knew it was time, and thus were able to leave with an appropriate send-off. They are the rare ones though - few are able to acknowledge that the powers are gone, and that they will never come back.

Rarer still are those who are able to leave while still at the top. The two best in this case are Steve Waugh and Greg Chappell. Here are their final 15 figures:
Greg Chappell - Average 52.3, three 100s, two 50s, top score 182.
Steve Waugh - Average 80.7, three 100s, four 50s, top score 156.

Admittedly Waugh's last 15 innings included 2 against both Zimbabwe and Bangladesh, which should not count as test matches, so let's remove them and see what we get:
Steve Waugh - Average 53.2, two 100s, three 50s, top score 115.

Still pretty damn good.

Hayden perhaps thinks he should get picked to tour England later in the year because his form before the last Ashes series wasn't real flash either. In the 15 innings before the 2005 Ashes tour, Hayden averaged only 34. He was in the middle of a very lean trot. From 6 October 2004 to 25 August 2005 his figures over 30 innings (15 test matches) were:
Average - 30.1, Nil 100s, five 50s, top score 70.

And yet he was picked to go to England where he averaged only 35.3 (and his only innings over 50 was in the final test match).

So let's not beat around the bush if he is treated like other batsmen have been in past years he should be dropped without a second thought - Ponting can find someone else to be his mate in the slips.

And best of all we have a few choices from the Sheffield Shield - the 31 year old Chris Rogers who is averaging 82.62 for WA; the 28 year old Michael Klinger who is averaging 90.6 for SA, or the brilliant 20 year old from NSW, Phil Hughes who is averaging 59.81. All three are in form, and are good for (in the case of Klinger and Rogers) another 4 years, or another 10-12 years in the case of Hughes.

The lights are out, the balloon has gone up, the votes have been counted, the nation has spoken, the numbers are in.

It's time to go Matthew Hayden.

Bowling up hill into the breeze

Is test cricket dead?

I ask because today was the last day of the Border-Gavaskar series. As I write Australia have just lost the test by 173 runs thus have lost the series 2-0. Australia and India are the two best sides in the world; they have had a run of fantastic test series over the last 7 odd years; and India were looking like winning the trophy for the first time since 2004, and yet if you saw a picture of the stadium, you would have seen that virtually no one was there to watch.

Indians, supposedly the most "cricket mad people on earth" don't give a stuff. Now look I know the ticket prices may be high by comparison with the average wage of Indians. And India certainly still is poor - its GDP per capita is about US$2600 (Australia's is around $36,700). And I couldn't find an average weekly earnings figure, but if we divide $2600 by 52 we get US$50 on average a week (a VERY rough guestimate). But the lowest price for a day at the cricket at the 5th test is 150 rupee (about US$3.15), or about 6.3% of the weekly earnings. By comparison using this measure, Australia's weekly earnings would be $705, and an equivalent ticket to the cricket would be around $44. In reality, the price to go a day of the Boxing Day test match is $98.

Now this isn't to have a go at Indians, because if I had to stump up $44 to sit on a concrete step, I'd probably give it a pass as well (would it kill the Indian stadium owner to put seats all the way round?). But the fact is, put on a Twenty20 match, and the joint will be packed. Put on even a one day game, and the crowds will come. Test cricket? Nah. (And if we are honest you can say the same about Australian test matches - the Ashes excepted - and even our one day crowds aren't that flash.)

And to be honest I don't blame them, because this series has at times been as boring as sitting around waiting for paint to dry by watching the grass grow. (But it has also at times been fantastic viewing).

Both sides have consistently bowled wide of off stump, with at times negative field. And both sides have had absolutely atrocious over rates. Because the match ended in a result, today's over rate won't matter (ie the captain won't be fined), but in the first session of play, India only bowled 21 overs. They're meant to bowl 30. Now because India didn't need to win the match, going slow didn't bother them - it was a 'tactic' - less overs means less balls off of which to score runs. Tactics is one way to describe it; cheating is better

But yesterday Australia was just as bad. When Australia had India in trouble, Ponting brought on his part-time bowlers to helps increase the over-rate to prevent himself from getting banned due to slow play.

It let India off the hook, and serves Ponting right. If he can't get his team to bowl 15 overs an hour, he deserves to gets banned. People don't pay to see 6 hours of cricket; they pay to see 90 overs. If you can't give people their money's worth, go back to grade cricket where you're playing in front of family and bored friends.

But there are more problems than over-rates. Test cricket is bloody old, and not in a good "fine tradition" way. It's old in an "annoying old grandfather who has to get to church 40 minutes early so he can sit in his same place in the pew every week" way.

So much of it could be changed but isn't because... well who knows really.

Look off the top of my head here are a few suggestions:

1. Bowl an average of 30 overs every two hours. 10 run penalty per over under that rate. If the batsmen cause slow play (endless drink breaks etc - 5 runs penalty per over awarded against them). Don't wait till the end of the day.

If this doesn't work, then break it down more - and let the umpires take control. When they're ready, the players should be ready. In tennis, the umpire calls "time" and that means the player has to serve. If the umpire thinks either side is wasting time, then award 5 runs then and there.

2. Ditch the lunch and tea breaks. Two hours and you need a break? Please. Three hours play and then you can have a 30 minute break. Let players use the 12th man more judiciously if need be - heck let the 12th man become a de facto "designated-fielder". I don't care if a bowler goes off for a massage break after bowling 10 overs, if it means he'll go a bit quicker, all the better. A general drinks break every 40 minutes should be enough - depending on the heat - but a break for afternoon tea? What is it, 1890?

3. Ditch the toss. India won the toss 3 out of 4 times this series. Why should that be such an advantage? Have one toss before the series to decide who has first pick, then take it in turns to choose. If there are an odd number of tests, the visitors get the final test. Actually this would be the first thing I would ditch. In baseball they don't have it - the home team always bats second. At the least it would put an end to the "win the toss, win the match" arguments.

4. Day-night test matches. I don't care if it will ruin the purity of the red ball. I don't care if batting at night is not as easy, and so teams will declare at twilight. I don't care if the white ball gets dirty so you have to change it more often. Suck it up princesses. You've been playing day- night one-dayers for 30 years, live with it.

The best reason for day night games? Never again will a game be called because of bad light. Plus the game goes for 5 days, so only 2 at most are on a weekend, there's nothing worse than being at work while the test match is on, with a day-night test at least the working population will get to see a few hours of cricket.

Look there are no doubt a few more things that could be done, but these are all I could think of while watching a replay of Question Time today (quick recap - Rudd dodged the question of whether he leaked the Bush phone call to The Australian, and Julia Gillard absolutely slaughtered Sophie Mirrabella).

I'll do a few more posts on cricket as the season gets closer. But I'll leave with this - I love test cricket. Some of the most enjoyable days of my youth were at the Adelaide Oval watching a day's play. I remember Greg Chappell scoring 61 runs against the West Indies in the 81-82 series, which ended his run of ducks. I was there when Craig McDermott supposedly got caught behind off of Courtney Walsh, meaning Australia lost by 1 run. I saw Mark Waugh and Greg Blewitt score centuries in their maiden tests. Heck I love test cricket even though my teenage years meant going to the cricket at Adelaide Oval and invariably seeing a draw (7 times out of 8 from 1983-1991).

I am bored by one-dayers - always have been. I loathe Twenty20 - it's the only time I've ever been at a cricket match and realised the score was irrelevant. So I don't seek to make test cricket "new" or "groovy", I just want to clear out the dead wood so to speak. They used to have timeless tests. They used to have a rest day. The players used to wear their shirts unbuttoned to their navels.

Test cricket is not unchanging, but it is in trouble.