International standard of cricket about to plummet

John Buchanan, he of Cricket Australia fame, has said:

England will dominant the world of cricket in 3-4 years time.

This can only mean that a nuclear war between Australia, India, South Africa and Afghanistan will wipe out all the competition.

In an interesting aside, the ECB suggested that it didn't have the budget to employ the most successful manager in history. It's probably going on "grass-roots" cricket, but which we mean, of course, costly architectural statements in provincial grounds.

Civilisation moves in to crack down on Northerners

Once every so often we have to do something unseemly. That may be acknowledging the existence of ugly people, notifying the servants that the toilet in the Shavon room requires cleaning, or in the case of the cricketing authorities, Going To Yorkshire.

Fear not. This isn’t a twisted euphemism for self administered enemas, but rather the regular requirement of willingly entering the domain of the Yorkshireman.

Much like the Victorian frontiers of colonial influence, the tension between culture and sophistication on the one hand and God’s Forgotten County occasionally crackle forth from unwelcome truce.

Societal battles are most obvious when Geoffrey Boycott and Jonathan Agnew share the microphone. The mutual contempt rouses TMS from its default slumbers. Their encounters usually follow the follow pattern:

AG: I am now expressing an opinion.
GB: Eh. Lad, don’t be so daft! That’s madness is that.
AG: Well, it is an interesting thought.
GB: Oh, if I were still playing, I wouldn’t mind a bit of that. I tell you, if you did that, I would be queuing up for it, I would.
AG: Just thought, Geoffrey, something the captain might want to think about.
GB: Thought. From a part time seamer from Leicestershire? A ha ha ha. The captain listen to that? Ha ha ha. To a bloke who got, what is it, three test match wickets. Ah ha ha ha. I would be queuing up for it I would! Stick of rhubarb! Ah ha ha! The good old times! Ah ha ha!
AG: Ahem. It’s all over Geoffrey. It’s finished. The pads are away. Finished for good.
GB: It would be with you bowling, in no time at all! With my mum batting! Ah ha ha!
AG: No. I meant your career.
GB: Oh.
[Awkward silence for about half a second.]
GB: Oh no god! They need to pitch it oop more.

It’s a familiar, if sad little battle. With Boycott seriously pissing off Agnew, not through any maliciousness, because this is the only way that Boycott knows how to communicate with people. Agnew, hurt and embarrassed, aims fight back. Geoffry fails to understand, and continues to complain about everything.

Anyway, the point is, for the up-coming Headingley, security will be on level “police brutality mark nine”. Headingley has a bit of a reputation for boozing and for crowds stepping over the line that only stewards and policemen see.

But, to be quite honest, so does every ground. The Oval is often site to shocking acts of drunken tom-fooling buffoonery, as is Lords. So is everywhere.

What makes Headingley different? It’s Northern. And what does that mean? It’s full of criminals. It’s refreshing to see the ECB emerge from its era of Eton-dominated, reactionary, prejudiced, wankerism.

Stanford: Failed drug figher, too?

Some weeks ago, cricketwithballs insinuated that Allen Stanford may, in fact, be a CIA undercover operative. As it turns out, this may not be far from the truth.

Since his empire of meaningless paper came to a crashing demise in, only three, including Laura Pendergest-Holt, chief investment officer of Stanford Financial Group, have indicted.

This is a bit odd.

Stranger have happened, of course. For instance, Paul Collingwood’s continued inclusion into the England team can be attributed to his ownership of a laminator, which he lends to backroom staff for their “Please leave the toilets as you would expect to find them” posters, pinned up in away grounds loos.

Indeed, strange things do happen. John Sweeny, of the BBC’s investigative flagship programme Panorama has accused Twatford of being in the pocket of the US Drug Enforcement Administration as a registered informant from 1990. (You can watch the entire report here.)

He's currently under the protection of the American legal authorities, who were presumably happy for him to steal $8 billion of other people's money in return with the valuable information that brought about the complete cessation all trade in drugs.

This seems a little tenuous to me, and very little evidence supports this claim.

Most interesting is the ECB’s continued claims that it conducted adequate due diligence. Although, it states that all is fine because:

“ECB is not a financial regulatory body. No regulatory body expressed any concerns about Stanford when we announced the contract in June 2008.”

Bless. Horrid money confuses them.

But there is another admission:

“ECB conducted due diligence on the original deal.”

Notice “the deal” and not the man. Hitherto, the ECB has laughable claimed that it had been professional and thorough in its background checks. But now says that it only looked into the project, not the man. (See full statement here.)

The man who was bankrupt; lost his banking licence in Montserrat; was wanted by the Floridian authorities for multi-million dollar tax non-payment; and openly on the SEC “He’s a bit dodgy” list.

For some reason, the Australians, Indians, South Africans and the money fetishist ICC didn’t want anything to do with this snake-oiled cheat. And yet the ECB has been untouched by their involvement with the Black Hole of Antigua.

They haven’t even had the foresight to make the illegal immigrant cleaner into a scapegoat. Everything about this shocks me.

Anyway, John Sweeny: kudos.

England finally reach the Bell End

It took a lot of hinting, cajoling and physical coercing, but the England selections finally gave in to our desires, to show that they know what to do with heads, and satisfying released exactly what we all want to see: a white paper of real substance.

Although, in its usual desperate search for branding with which it could use to “sell” to the “media”, England’s line-up has already been branded as the “new face”, the “future” on our happy march towards the “next era”.

A completely novel era where the bits and pieces player that doesn’t really excel at anything have been given central importance. Let’s look at England new vanguard:

Ravi Bopara – bats a bit, apparently bowls, but the ECB FORBIDS him from doing so.
Paul Collingwood – see above.
Tim Bresnan – although his medium pacers aren’t good enough for international level, he bats a bit, so that’s ok.
Stuart Broad – see above.
Graeme Swann – see above (ish).
Matt Prior – his keeping is rubbish, but…

In fact, the only players that actually appear to be good at anything are Andrew Strauss (whose seems to be alright at batting at the moment) and KP (whose brilliant mind games have surely won England at least eight matches in the past).

It’s as though the Englanders looked at New Zealand and collective thought “oh yeah, that’s where we’ve been going wrong – let’s pick the crap players.”

Ah well. Spare a thought for Michael Vaughan though – his chances were smote by the Yorkshire weather. Not for the first time has a promising career been suppressed by Northern precipitation.

Welcome to the defensive era, where we succumb the Ashes before it begins and seem to be meekly comply with the Australians demands for whatever debauched designs they have for us. It’ll be all over our faces before long. And I’m telling you, knowing Australians, it won’t be very long at all.

Reaping that which they sowed

The England cricket team. Not for the first time, their cupboard looks bare. There are a number of serious problems which a disastrous series against weaker opposition resulted in the one change.

Ian Bell was axed, which came as a shock to all of us.

But, weirdly enough, some argue that there are still passengers in the England line-up. Funnily enough, the lost series against the Rubbish Windies didn’t provide the proof the selectors needed to identify which players are crap. The investigation to spot the stuffer continues.

As does their myriad problems. Total lack of vision. An ODI team lacking in shape, and consistently fields a chaotic line-up. An opening attack of James Anderson and Stuart Broad.

The fact that Steve Harmison, cricket’s equivalent of Peter Mandleson, is still not out of contention leaves blind old women, clueless as to the ways of cricket, enraged with the short-sightedness of it all.

For some reason, Chris Tremlett and Matthew Hoggard are not even considered.

Some people would call this madness. I would call it worse things. Two years of floating, lack of direction, leadership fiascos have taken a heavy toll on the England line-up. And the toll for being crap is quite high.

At least it used to be, now you just get early retirement and a six figure pension.

God. England eh? England!

God.

England’s revolutionary move to appoint a Zimbabwean coach

Breaking into entirely new territory, the ECB have installed a former Zimbabwean player as their glorious leader. Known for his nonplussed demeanour and frog-like appearance, the former Zimbabwean captain promises to bring new steel to the floppy England line-up that has been struggling against even weakened opposition.

His name is Andy Flower. Prepare yourself for a new era of truly unbearable sub-editing.

Asked on his relationship with captain Andrew Strauss, Flower said,

“Yeah, it’s good.”

He later added.

“He gets back from his holiday soon.”

Obviously, the team’s captain leaving the country in protest of the Zimbabwean’s elevation to the highest coaching position in the universe isn’t the best of starts. But, he has more demanding problems ahead: Kevin Pietersen.

That a relationship between a Saffer and a bloke from Zim should be a factor in the future of the England cricket team show’s you just how far we have all come.

From over there, to over here.

The grass always looks greener on the other side; although the flowers always look crap.

Alan Stanford: International Super Villain

Obviously, everyone knew this already. Just look at the teeth.

And his attempt to destroy cricket didn’t win too many fans amongst the cricketing fraternity. Although, it improved his standing in BCCI Towers.

Alan Stanford has been accused on non-transparent practices in dealing with clients' investments. They they thought their investments were being held in liquid assets, but, in fact, they were ploughed into property. Outside the world of finance this is called “lying”. The chief investment officer instructed staff to not inform investors about Stanford’s investment practices, as it “wouldn’t leave an investor with a lot of confidence”.

The classic signs of financial fraud were apparent for all to see: “off-shore financing” is another way of saying “I’m stealing your money”; Stanford has had his banking licence in Montserrat revoked for dubious dealings; smooth year-on-year returns; and law enforcement investigations since the early nineties. Even before the SEC accused him of an $8 billion “massive ongoing fraud” the US tax authorities were trying to recover $104,236,285.85 federal tax lien.

Now there is possible exposure to the Bernard Madoff Ponzi scheme, alleged connections to gulf gangsters and 30,000 investors have unsuccessfully sought to get their money back. Hilariously, he went on the run, and was eventually tracked down to (one of) his girlfriend’s house in Virginia. Which was also the area that Robert E. Lee conducted his last desperate rear-guard action before surrendering to the inevitable encircling of reality.

Stanford’s dad has come out to say that he thinks he’s a good guy, so I suppose that makes it ok.

Of course, it would be a bit smug of me to say that I work for an organisation that constantly vets all those that it works for, and that a simple investigation on well-known internet search programmes are a start in the process of due diligence, which, in itself, is a lengthy, but simple procedure. I won’t say any of these things, though, because, rather like Giles Clarke, I am above the fray. I don’t want the legacy of this post to be about a lying Texan.

The question is: Has the ECB moved on from the 19th century? Well, it still has the shameless appetite for foreign treasure. It still holds archaic bureaucratic practices that strangle the game. But, most pressingly, it is still run by Old Boys.

The problem with Old Boys is that when they look on another male, about a similar age, and with heaps of cash, they welcome the decent old chap into their open bosom.

“Come on in, old bean, put your feet up, relax, lighten the load and leave your cash by the door as you come in, my dear thing.”

Thoughts like “I wonder where that money comes from” would never enter an Old Boy’s cheery, port-soaked brain. Money, of course, is vulgar; necessary but vulgar. That a professional businessman like Clarke didn’t even consider the reputational risk of Stanford is remarkable, but, really, the information is there for all to see.

I’ve been having a little root around Stanford’s site. The news section has not been updated since the 3rd February. Presumably, the Communications team are hiding in their girlfriends' house. Apparently, not only does Sir Poverty inflict his smile upon his staff, but also some “flair”:

“To distinguish the men and women of the Stanford Financial Group of companies, every employee wears an eagle shield representing financial strength, integrity and commitment to our clients.”

This man is to be avoided.

The “eagle shield” is a crappy, tacky, nasty little badge-thing that distinguishes between employees that work for a ghastly boss, and employees that work for a ghastly boss with a horrendous perma-tan. In any case, it’s a shame that the Group’s commitment to its clients extends to giving their money back.

Is nothing sacred?

Bagpuss, not satisfied with taking over London, has now decided to invade English cricket.

Some goon who unashamedly calls himself Lord Marland of Odstock and ran Boris Johnson’s successful campaign for London mayoralty, (although, we all know it was actually some nasty piece of work Aussie that did the dirty, somehow Boris’ old chum was awarded the “Campaign Manager” title) wants to become the new chairman of the ECB.

Boris, flexing his political muscles further, plans to tighten his strangle-hold of the English establishment by sending Oddsocks forth to capture the ECB.

The London Mayor was heard to have said,

“Well, uh, buh buh, it’s kinda, buh, buh, gosh, right! Buh buh. The Johnson house will subjugate the masses through insidious control of its essential institutions, confounding all those who stand against us! Crickey.”

That Giles Clarke, a respected and hard-arsed businessman, has come under challenge from a minion of walking flan, is a sign of troubled times for English cricket.

Clarke hasn’t been a bad chairman. He hasn’t done anything that any other English chairman from the hallowed histories of the ECB wouldn’t have done – with the possible exception of ol’ Lord Bumsoak, whose solutions to administrative problems usually involved large vats of sherry, some well-oiled bats and twelve naked schoolboys.

But, politics is politics, and when the rats smell an opportunity, they begin to talk about strategic leadership and the need to gnaw on the rotting corpses of roadkill.

So, some nobody, whose only claim to fame is an association with the Tory party financial scandal that involved cheating electoral laws by fraud and winning over huge sums of money by misleading the authorities, thinks that he can do a better job than someone with actual abilities.

It’s a bit annoying that English cricket is such a preserve of the political right. I don’t make this objection so much for partisan reasons – my politics is somewhat broken anyhow – but it would be a fantastic addition to the game is so left-wing perspectives were brought into the game.

The Twatford affair would have been considerably more entertaining had (Sir?) Arthur Scargill been at the reins.

“Aye, Twatford lad, let me have a go at they lasses. Hallo love, we’ll keep the red flag flying here. Ooh flippin’ Norah.”

That’s right. We need more communists in English cricket.

ECB shafts players. Again.

I’m quoting cricinfo, here:

“England's cricketers will not be forced to return to India for the two-Test series, Hugh Morris, the ECB's managing director for England cricket, said as the squad arrived back in London on Saturday evening.”

I am considering putting in a Freedom of Information Request to see which tours players are forced to attend. But, although it seems sensible, the response is a typically spineless, confusing and probably the worst possible announcement for the England players.

I strongly suspect that this position was borne out of Captain Fantastic’s recent comments:

“On a cricket field I might ask people to do things in a certain way but I will never tell people to do anything. A man is a man and he can make his own decisions.”

Which is all very good, but leads to a curious overall position. Presumably, if a player wished to withdraw a normal tour, then the ECB would penalise him in some way. Perhaps drop him from consideration from future tours.

But we must assume that if players’ personal perception of the security situation India is unfavourable, then they do not face this penalty.

But, if a player on the margins takes this opportunity to play for his country, then would the established, backer-outter feel obliged to stay on? Oh, I don’t know. But by shifting the responsibility on to the players, the ECB is buggering up with the careers of its most valuable assets.

It’s a mess. The whole thing is a mess.

In fact, just cancel the tour. I, for one, haven’t enjoyed one moment of it. Well, except for its crushing the will of KP. That’s been fantastic.

But generally, this tour has left me numb.

It’s like the emptiness that you’re left with after you’ve failed, for the second year running, to get into Jenny from Account’s pants at work’s Christmas Party, despite the fact that you managed to get her completely plastic.

Isn’t life great?

Kolpaks sent packing

Alright! That’s what I’m talking about!

Finally, people have decided to listen to the BNP, and keep the English county league for the English. Out with those nasty foreigners.

A report in today's Daily Telegraph claims that the ECB is set to eradicate the Kolpaks and throw a tightened overseas player policy into the mix. To quote:

“Pending any unforeseen loopholes in EU law, any player not holding a British or EU passport will need to have played five Tests or 15 one-day internationals in the preceding two years (the final criteria have yet to be agreed, but must not be over-discriminatory) in order to be signed by a county. That way, the quality of imports goes up (counties can still sign overseas stars) while their numbers come down.”

This is an interesting move, and I the Twickeneese Panopticon, didn’t see it coming. This may be a little short sighted: consider the West Indies greats of the old, who learnt a lot of their cricket in an English county. It is not naïve to suggest that England is still an important supplier and polisher of international cricket talent.

It’s a bit like Sandhurst, only with less grooming of blood-thirsty dictators to be.

I have long hated this Kolpak business. It’s cheating, to be honest.

The reason that it was brought about is not due to globalisation or Evil Germans, but the enhancement of county cricket’s quality and the greater intensity that this demands. Given the heaps of counties out there, there is simply no way that weedy bumpkinshires could produce the required number of nut-case, Aussie wannabies.

So they turned to the next available source of bastardliness: South Africa.

But, as with any market, once a shock has been absorbed, the system will be re-structured and, I suspect, some losers will be eaten up, or fall off completely.

The collapse of certain county sides was perhaps the ECB’s original intention when they bisected the championship. It’ll be sad for some. But, I’ll certainly cheer once some of the smaller, more pointless clubs, like Surrey, finally get the chop.

The ECB sinks to new low

Last week the ECB sunk to new depths in my esteem with two pieces of news.

Firstly, they banned that iconic link to the past: the cable-knit jumper. Of course, the ECB is not unafraid of shedding its heritage; cricket has lost what little remains of its uniqueness in a market saturated with the finest American plastics and wheezes of twelve year-olds in suits.

Replacing time-worn, proven elements of the game with the ephemeral fads of blind modernisation is all part of the new feckless strategy of a pro-active, globalised, empowered, service-oriented, ahead of the curve, excellence-focused English administration.

This may, or may not, be something to do with the new chairman: Giles Clarke, who is, by all accounts, a total bastard. Apparently, he can speak about twenty languages, is an enormously successful businessman and is obsessed with cricket statistics. So we can safely assume he knows nothing about cricket.

Look at England’s replacement kit. What really irritates me about this is the whiteness of the whites. Whites are cream; even demented, colour blind mole people know that. Clarke the twat, however, does not. Now our team look like a bunch of unemployable youths, loitering outside the local off licence debating whether they should re-attempt a cider-shoplifting expedition or try to score some scag from their mum.

The ultimate denunciation of this chav-wear came from Kevin Pietersen:

“It feels sensational.”

Secondly, Clarke’s depravity knows no end with his official announcement that the England cricket, after over a hundred years of honourable if modest achievement, is now for sale.

The ECB is currently in talks with “Sir” Allen Stanford over the possibility of England playing a collection of hired goons for a prize $200 million.

Apparently, the justification of this scandelous misuse of a noble instution is to compensate the impoverished players from their unrealised IPL earnings.

I have accepted long ago that the ECB is no longer interested in cricket, but this greedy nadir is simply too much for me to endure. I might just burn down Lords, with all their chequebooks, media contact indices and hip, unstuffy outfits left inside.

Why is usesless Boris Johnson messing around over the London mayoral position – we need a inactive, hopeless head of the ECB and we need one now.

Much needed money granted to Lord’s

The South of England has traditionally been the more disadvantaged area of the country, and London especially has suffered from financial neglect.

Whereas money abounds in the lush green hills of The North, with areas such as Bradford and Darlington boasting wealthy centres of cricketing excellence. But these cash-rich areas aside, the game of cricket in the South has been shamefully overlooked.

Now, at long last, the MCC seek to redress the balance, and invest £200 million in a much needed redevelopment of Lords. Although this is a poultry sum compared with the shed-loads of resources shifted Northwards daily, it is a start.

The plans released so far outline economical and totally worthwhile schemes to erect new floodlights and expand the capacity slightly. There is talk of installing an “academy” although, even though no one is entirely explicit on the meaning of this, experts still believe the project to be a “not at all shit” use of public money.

Indeed, it has been well over a year since the last multi-million project at Lords, and the ground has since fallen into disrepair.

Anyone who has been to Lords will appreciate the poverty of the area, and the desperation of the spectators who shuffle about forlornly in diseased rags, barely able to understand the game such is their malnutrition.

The redevelop is part of the MCC’s bid to secure the Lords’ ground’s hosting of future test matches. Although, this is frankly pie in the sky thinking – how that place can even dream of holding five day events before the dilapidated stands collapse is pitiable.

Although Lord’s considers itself the Home of Cricket, cricket seemed to dislike the wall-paper and moved to Dubai some years ago. Nevertheless, David Batts, MCC’s Masterplan Project Director said:

“Nearly half of MCC’s membership responded and there was overwhelming backing to support the improvement of Lord’s for future generations of cricketers, cricket fans and of course members.”

A Lord’s spokesman responded by saying:

“Ha ha ha. Can you believe these gulliable twats? Wahay! Let’s get pissed on Pimms!”

Cricket: it’s not for girls

Well, apparently, I would be wrong. The MCC, not content in letting in female members, it now allows them to make non-tea-related decisions. The girls, proving that they are not useless stereotypes, took this opportunity to turn cricket balls pink.

This may, or may not, be a crime. I’m not sure how exactly I feel about this one, but I have a vague desire to break into the offices of Heat magazine and transform the back-pages into a nag-hoping form guide for up-and-coming horse races.

Cricket in the UK has experimented with orange balls, blue ones and most recently white balls. None of them really worked. People don’t stop complaining about balls. Especially girls.

Even the traditional red one has come in for some stick. Hundreds of years of successful battering; now batsmen are moaning that they can’t see them. Frankly, I see this as a bonus. It would be a great game if the batsman couldn’t actually see the ball (maybe we could paint it green or overcast grey). Seeing batsman getting hit is a major attraction for spectators.

But I suppose bowlers have it all their own way anyway. It’s only fair.

Mike Gatting, who is expert on talking balls (although, not as much as this bloke), has stated,

“This is a very interesting and a very wise development."

Being a cricket fan I naturally fear change. I oppose this move. Given that the number of runs scored in international matches is greater than ever, I can’t really see a need.

Other than another pointless marketing gimmick than brings in so much…stuff. Yeah, the ECB, great at brining in the stuff.

Fun is banned

The new ECB head, Giles Clarke, has decided to outlaw all fun within the England cricket team.

In a surprising first move, he has acted to attack England's “unprofessionalism” going on to say Andrew Flintoff and Paul Collingwood should have received bans for their moments of madness.

“We're not going to get proper athletes and a decent team if people do not have the right attitude as professionals in their sport.”

This is a bit weird. Professionalism is about acted in a reasonable and respectable manner at work. Outside work time is private time. The professionalism lies in not allowing your private realm of messed up ideas and broken brains to negatively impact upon your plain work persona. Neither Flintoff or Collingwood allowed pedelos or breasts to affect their performance at work.

So what’s the problem?

You might say that a little-known businessman who likes to talk too much may have a publicity problem. Talking nonsense to the press is one way of rectifying that issue.

Ayalac is all for drunken cricketers. There should be more role models like that: people who can’t handle their booze and get stuck in light water-craft; people who pay to see nude wrigglers. That’s the stuff this nation is built upon. And we should be proud.

Twenty bloody 20

So Kent (Kent?!) won the Twenty20 Cup.

Kent?! I’ve bloody been to Kent, and it’s bloody rubbish. You know, the chav was invented in Kent. That tells you all you need to know. (For international readers, "chavs" are teenagers that aimless roam the streets in a threatening manner. They also drink a lot of cider. Do not confuse them with farmers from Somerset.)

I’ve included of a picture of some chavs that I shot whilst driving through Dover. That’s the thing about Kent: you drive through it to get to France. And the thing about France is: you drive through it to get any where else. Just one big motorway to Italy, as far as I’m concerned.

As you can see, the chavs and "larking about" in a intimidating manner. They also wear the hats and helmets and things that they find on the street. They are mostly skinny because their parents can't afford much food, and they are addicted to heroine.

So anyway, the matches on Finals Day were brilliant and exciting and fun and all that rubbish that people usually trot about Twenty20. I once revealed the truth about the format, but the EC-bloody-B chose to ignore me. And not for the first time. It’s no coincidence that the county scene is a shambles and England are losing.

I boycotted the whole tournament. Twenty20 is just too exciting. It should be banned; it’s just not cricket.

I mean look at them. How could you possibly take any sporting team seriously when they waltz about in trackies. Honestly.

Any other cricket news? No. No I don’t think so. Oh wait, apparently, we’ll be “surprised” tomorrow when the selectors announce England’s Twenty20 squad. Expect Jade Goody to be picked.

ECB spills the sour beans

I have been trying to squeeze information out of a faceless ECB bureaucrat over the last few months. Partly about the captaincy situation, but chiefly to badger them to accept the logic of the Matthew Hoggard for Captain campaign.

At the announcement of the ODI vacancy, I naturally upped the ante and insisted on Hoggy’s promotion. I hoped you played your part, too. The response was not good. Sadly, I can officially provide an off-the-record leak and announce that Matthew Hoggard will not be the next England one-day captain.

This is a bitter blow to all those who believe in truth and justice. Therefore, in the best tradition of shamelessly abusing your position of trust, I will publish the entire email correspondence between myself and the ECB lackey. Like most of humanity, I doubt the faceless bureaucrat reads my blog, so I shan’t be at risk of being sued. You might, though, for reading it.

Me: Dear ECB,

Please could you appoint Matthew Hoggard as England's next captain. I think he's really good, and like his hair. I also think he's good at bowling.

Kind regards,

The Atheist

P.S. Would it also be possible if you could make Monty Panesar captain, too?

He: Dear The Atheist,

Hmm, don't think we can make everyone captain. Sure Matthew would appreciate the compliment though!

Kind regards,

Faceless Bureaucrat

Me: Oh yes. I didn't think about that. Well. How about making Matthew Hoggard captain on some days, and Monty Panesar captain on others. Like they do in the army. Hope this helps.

He: Think we might stick with one, hopefully fit, captain for the duration!

Me: OK - But will you promise, when this one falls over his slippers, you will make Matthew Hoggard captain?

He: not my decision, which everyone will be glad to hear! enjoy the summer's cricket

Me: OK. Who do I need to contact to secure this promise?

He: Sorry, The Atheist. no-one is going to promise you that we're going to make Matthew Hoggard captain, or anyone else. Michael Vaughan is England captain. Andrew Strauss is captain for this Test, and Michael will hopefully return next week.

Me: So, you are saying I need to make a case somewhere? That makes sense. I'm a tax-payer, and my taxes go into the England team, so I should have a say in it. That's democracy: no taxation without representation. Who should I talk to state my case? Or should I present a petition?

He: to resolve this one finally; it's a decision taken by the England Selectors, appointed by the ECB Board to select the England team. It's not a democratic decision at all

Some time passes here. I try to use lying to get my way.

Me: Seeing as Hoggard is fit again, will you appoint him as captain? I heard that Vaughan has a tummy bug.

He: Hello. No. Michael Vaughan is captain for the foreseeable future

A little later, Vaughan announces his stepping down from the ODI captaincy. My big chance to make the case for Hoggy. Clearly is it is water-tight.

Me: Now the time is ripe. The moment is here. Surely, the ECB must appoint their most experienced campaigner to the newly available captaincy? Surely, now is the time for Matthew Hoggard?

I have thought long and hard about this. There is no possible reason you could give me that would convince me that Hoggy is not the man for the job. He is a perfect candidate; it makes your life easier; and his leadership will win you lots of games. Even the World Cup. You are lucky that this is going to be a simple decision. There's no contest.

I would be willing to give you advice on a permanent consultancy basis, if would prefer to have my expertise on tap? I could be like Allan Donald. Only cheaper. And better.

He: Thanks for the offer. Think we'll stick with Allan Donald for bowling consultancy for now! New ODI skipper and squad will be announced on Friday morning on the site

Me: Great. So, can you confirm Hoggy's promotion? I promise not to leak it. It'll just be our little secret.

He: Think you may be disappointed on that front.

What a blow! A Sad day. A sad day for us all.

Early season madness.

Normally, the start of the season sees chilly breezes, rusty batsman and dodgy pitches. This year, the Championship has been broached with a bursting stream of runs.

So far, in terms of team performances, I count five 300s, three 400s, three 500s, one 600 and one 800. In just seven matches.

Justin Langer has again scored a triple hundred for Somerset, bagging 315 against Middlesex. Even Jason Gillespie scored 123, at number ten. Strangely, exactly one year ago, he scored a double hundred. 19 April: the Golden Day for Dizzy, clearly.

Anyway, the poor old bowlers. I hope this sort of batting frenzy won’t continue all season, but I have a horrible feeling about the direction of English domestic cricket.

Here’s a quote from the ECB website:

“In one-day cricket, the pitch should be one that allows batsmen to have their day, and thus provide the entertainment that as spectators we have all grown to love.”

I hope that grounds men aren’t applying the same logic to four-day pitches.

The Ayalac news round-up

So much news! So little inclination.

As a blogger, and not a reporter, I must comment on current affairs, not try to present them in some dubious light as “fact”. Therefore, I’ll round up recent “goings on” with a comment and my stance on the issue: for or against.

BONG! Shoaib Malik appointed captain of Pakistan

At the age of only 25 and after only 18 test matches, the reliably prescient Pakistan Cricket Board has backed young Shoaib Malik for the captaincy role. Although he has a test average of only 37, his decent off-spinning and all-round adaptability has meant that this chap is probably going to stick around for a while. This is pretty much the only criterion that the PCB uses, as far as I can tell, considering recent craziness, it’s understandable.

Even though he seems perfectly moulded for ODIs, I’m not sure about his test match ability. Perhaps no one cares? I’m sure he’ll do a grand job. But I’m pleased that Pakistan has picked someone young. Stability is what Pakistan need right now. Bring on the Shoaib era!

He is a bit on the sweaty side, though. Perhaps that makes him more endearing?

So, I’m FOR this one.

BONG! Fletcher not brought back

In a surprise move, the ECB has not begged Duncan Fletcher to return. Instead, the ECB wants an “inspirational leader”. Ayalac happens to think that not such thing exists in the world, but we can let them dream.

Personally, I think we should appoint Ricky Ponting to the position, with immediate effect. Perhaps chuck in Mathew Hayden and the rest of the Ozzies as assistant coaches. This would almost certainly improve England’s chances of winning. Anyway, “moving on” is usually a good thing, especially when you have no choice.

So, I’m FOR this one.

BONG! Brian Lara decides to call it a day.

Brian Lara, the hero of many millions, has resigned from all forms of international cricket. I’m not sure how I feel about this. Although he is the still the best batsman in the world and has a decent claim to the best batsman of all time, he still has great innings left in him. And I was rather looking forward to seeing him play in England this season. Yet, apparently, he’s a bit of a bastard in the dressing room, and his team-mates might be glad that smug bloke with all the runs has gone.

Also, Lara came to Twickenham once. He was signing cricket paraphernalia during the launch of his new cricket bats (they were called “375” and the lusty “501”. Shame they were rubbish. They probably won’t have lasted 375 balls before the handle fell off) I got him to sign my sun hat. That’s right. I met Brian Lara. I looked at him, and he looked at my hat. I said “…” and he signed away. He moved my hat to the far side of the desk, and the next kid pushed me out of the way. It was over. He didn’t even look at me. You couldn’t even read what it said. Maybe “Brlarn” or “Dr Larson” not sure what exactly. Damn you Lara. At the time, I was dwelling vengeance. Little did I know that it could be so easily realised.

So, I’m FOR! Ha! Take that no-job man!

Fletcher arrowed

Well, this morning I was going to write a big post about the English leadership, addressing both the coach and captaincy issue. But such was the momentum of the anti-Fletcher witch-hunt that Duncan Fletcher, the England coach, has finally jumped before he was pushed.

Oddly enough, I was going to identify instability as the main problem in the England camp. I was going to bang on about how the coming and going of captains, and changing of leaders generally was going to make English cricket worse.

Then I decided that I had a lot of work to do, and I’d blog later. When I returned, KA-BLAMMO Fletcher has announced his resignation. I am lost for words. So, I’ll vent what’s left of my spleen tomorrow. But, as a teaser, I’ll just say that the coach, good or bad, won’t make much of a difference.

On a final note, I, for one, will want to see the following features in the new coach.

• Smiles more.
• Is physical fit and even, to some people’s eyes, attractive.
• Makes us win.

Is that so much to ask?

The ump-teenth appeal

OK! So we’re back in business with access to Photoshop and everything. Apologies for the poor headline, I thought of a good pun, but didn’t know how to use it. A condition that has haunted me all my life.

Nevertheless, look at the picture! It really improves the quality of the blog, doesn’t it? It’s got David Shepherd in it. Now he was the man. You tell that young Aussie what for, Shep!

Bugger writing, we like the piccies. I’ve become The Sun of the internet world.

So, first up, an interesting English domestic issue: players will be able to refer all dismissals to the Third Umpire if they disagree with the field umpire’s decision in televised matches of the 50-over Friends Provident Trophy (the former C & G Trophy). This will operate on a trial basis, starting from April 29.

For the fielding team, only the captain may appeal against a decision, whereas any batsman can refer to the Third Umpire. Much has been made of the potential of this to slow down the game and undermine the umpire’s authority on the pitch. One umpire said, “There is the potential for it to be a disaster.” But this is true of anything.

Like powerplays and strategic pinch-hitting, it is likely that this new facility will be integrated into the game to be used as another tactic. I imagine that fielding teams would be loathed to use their appeal initially, but will try to grab the momentum when the middle order breaks into the tail-enders to finish off an inning. Similarly, for batsman, unless they are certain they didn’t nick it, I think they will rarely appeal except in dire situations. Maybe they’ll try to chance their arm to save their best batsman? But, seeing as it will be up to the blokes out there, it depends on how twatish they are – you can bet Kevin Pieterson will be appealing repeatedly.

Interestingly, the ECB has decided not to allow the use of the snickometer or Hawk-eye. Quite what the Third Umpire will bring to proceedings is anyone’s guess. I, for the life of me, cannot detect whether the batsman had nicked it over the television. The background interference and imperfections in technology make it all but impossible to perceive a noticeable difference. However, tedious over-analysis of LBW decisions normally gives a conclusive result either way.

Not only will this act to further undermine the field umpires confidence and authority on the pitch, but it also has the potential to reduce the quality of umpiring in the long-term. If the umpires give a decision based on their immediate thoughts, knowing that poor judgement can be corrected, we might develop a culture of dependence. I doubt it though. More likely, the lowering standards of respect that the umpires are given by professional players (there’s still deference at club level) is probably going to drop lower still.

What is baffling me about this whole issue is whether it is important at all. Much is made of a match changing because of a poor decision. So what? Matches change all the time: that’s cricket. It changes when a few wickets are lost; it changes when quick runs are scored. It is all part of the game.

However, I find it hard to believe how a forensic examination of a passage of play will add to the charm of cricket. Indeed, it stuns me when bowlers display self-righteous indignation when a marginal decision goes against them. The differences we are talking about here are of the slightest degrees: less than an inch one way or the other. Unfortunately, no bowler has this much control over the ball, and this degree of movement is more due to the “unfair” pitch than anything.

In reality, when looking at marginal dismissals we are looking into the world of chance. Skill, knowledge and foresight and hazed out by the unpredictable probabilities that determine the outcome of play. The MCC rules took the most sensible line, on this matter, and put the onus of proof on the fielding time. However, considering the nature of flat pitches these days, we may wish to reconsider this initial principle, yet we can a priori reach some systematic settlement for the lottery moments. The rule change will distabilise this solid scheme of laws that have governed the game so well.