Australia depressingly god-like

Continuing my orgy of spreadsheeting debauchery, I decided to map out Australia’s decade in graphical form. And here we go.

And didn’t they do well. It is clear that the mighty Australians piss on all of us from a great height. England’s naughties peak of +18, and India’s current (world-topping) +13 is eclipsed into the toilet by Australia’s current score of +59. Australia peaked on 6 March 2009, with their win at Durban, with a total of 60.

Australia’s performance over the decade is marked by continual progress. Not the one step forward one step back pattern of England: Australia stride continually forward.

Interestingly, however, their “decline” is apparent in a recent plateau. Since the end of 2006, they have only increased their score by 10. Whereas, India’s last ten points took nearly four years, they were on +3 in March 2005.

In January 2008, however, Australia were on +58. And since that acrimonious home series against India, their scores has stabilised. Indeed, their total has increased by +1 in this two year period. It dropped to +57 in December 2008 in South Africa.

It appears that they were not the force that they once were. But hats off to them on a top decade: 117 matches and 77 won.

Better than Twickenham.

Do we need bowlers?

So. Australia win their series. Coupled with Bangladesh’s recent triumph over Zimbabwe, this series will be remarked as one of the most memorable contests after the Punic Wars.

But it also fuels the argument for dividing the international game into two divisions: with the first division boasting teams like Australia and India and the second division housing everyone else.

This allows the ICC to sweep the deck of all non essential matches, enabling Australia to battle India in a continuous all year circus of fifty-over joy.

In any case, perhaps the most interesting issue in this series was Australia’s crock-ridden bowling attack. Even Clinton McKay (no relation to the famous general, although possibly connected to the infamous intern-fiddler) was called up, after only 18 first class games.

But this didn’t matter. Because bowling doesn’t matter any more.

Take the fifth match. Australia rack up 350. It should be enough. And was. It didn’t matter that the bowling was rubbish, and Sachin Tendulkar streaked his way to yet another fluky huge hundred. Because batsmen win games in the shorted format.

Indeed, because bowlers know that batsmen's time is limited, they know that pressure and aggression is unnecessary, even counter-productive. Best just picking three Chris Harrises and an Ashley Giles and do as you always do: trust in your batters.

Perhaps the more innocuous and the least enchanted by the delusion of wickets your bowlers are, the more successful your team? Can we have finally unearthed the mystery of Kiwi one success?

Clarke irritates all by being Australian

The last time I can remember Australian fielding a stand-in captain for any significant length of time was in 2007 against New Zealand. It was a humiliating experience, that provided much hilarity across the world.

Now, in Dubai, the land where you never change your socks, and the little streams of alcohol come a-trickling down the rocks, Australia looked like losing to a bunch of weekend cricketers.

Now that dream, that distant spark of hope in a gloomy, darkening world, has been stamped out by the Aussie jack-boot of despair.

Ah, Australia.

Australia, a land of rich and varied culture, whose sole culinary contribution to the world has been vegeshite. Once this unassailable delicacy was created, the entire nation sat back and though, “well, bollocks to it, that can’t be bettered.” (Let me pre-empt some ill-informed responses here by highlighting the Yorkshire Pudding. That is all.)

Ah, Australia.

You have given the world much pain, much suffering, and it’s just not getting any better.

Michael Clarke, a man who is rubbish, undeniably rubbish, but still scores effortless fifties and single-handedly wins matches with his useless yet devastatingly effective spinners. WHY?

Why can’t they just implode like a flannel? Why can’t they just die? Or, to express it in the words of that bit-part Asian bloke in Snatch:

“I shoot you Tony you go down. I shoot you good, Tony. Die! Tony, Die.! No! Aaaargh!”

Gilchrist out in style

In a dream farewell match for his country, Adam Gilchrist blitzed a rear-guard century to beat Sri Lanka by 63.

Indeed, once his wicket fell at 206-5, Australia slept to a feeble 236 all out, with Lasith Malinga and Nuwan Kulasekara polishing off the Aussler middle order and tail.

Sadly, the Lankans couldn’t continue this dominant form, and managed only 173. Their uninspiring innings signed off with the familiar story of Kumar Sangakkara being the last man out. The Lions are looking so flimsy at the moment.

Beyond their handful of world-class players, they have no reserve to call upon.

In any case, this was Gilly’s day. Without his pacey knock, the Australians would have lost this match. This is not the first time I have said this but, thank god, it’s going to be the last.

UPDATE: Check out Miss Field's blog for in-person reporting of the game.

What the hell is going on?

In an unexpected move, the world has reportedly “gone mad” today, with the collapsing in the laws of logic.

The integrity of reason first began to disintegrate in the final moments of the second test of the Australia/India series. In a suspicious series of events, Michael Clarke was awarded responsibility in knocking over the last three Indian batsmen with two remaining overs. He decided to stretch the tension, by single-handedly wrapping up the Indian innings in the last over of the match.

During the bad natured game, in which India placed a novel accusation at Australia’s door by calling them “cheats”, Harbhajan Singh allegedly racially abused Andrew Symonds. Mike Procter, the match referee, ruled at the end of a four-hour hearing that Harbhajan had breached Level 3 of the ICC's Code of Conduct. He was consequently served with a three-match ban.

In a mature move, the Indians accused Brad Hogg of “using offensive language” and another hearing is likely.

It was reported by the BBC this morning that, not only is the BCCI appealing against the verdict, but they are also pulling out of the remainder of the tour in protest. I was a little surprised. Hissy fits are not unknown in India, but this was a huge toy ejected from a gargantuan pram.

Now, the Indians claim that these were only “rumours” and that the tour is going ahead. Which means, it’s ok, because someone from the ICL collected the toy and sent it back from whence it came.

Whenever India do anything, really, anything at all, it will be imbued with bonkerness. Nothing seems to be straightforward over there. It’s like the PCB has stapled insanity pants permanently on them.

We could appoint a sensible coach – nah, we’ll pick some bloke who’s once coached his way to Durban. We’re above twenty20 – sod it, we’ll win the world championship. We could have a twenty20 tournament - oh wait, we’ll go mental and divide world cricket instead.

What the hell? WHAT THE HELL!

Australias look at Indians and laugh

In a seemingly relentless barrage of international matches, one blogger picks a game at random and tries to talk about it. Will this blogger make a stand? Well, momentarily.

I did wonder why so many people were complaining about the length of the World Cup. I thought that it was great. It is a WORLD Cup. It should be massive. Like the world.

But this dizzying torrent of ODIs overwhelms even the most fanatical of fans.

Take the England team, for example. After a seven match series against India, they had approximately a day’s rest before heading over to SA for the twenty20 fiasco. A day after this was completed, England’s finest shot off to Sri Lanka to receive another hiding.

Obviously, this constant battering leaves no window to breath, or even hope. It is a continuum of pain, with only a Zimbabwe for rest-bite.

I vaguely remember kingcricket moaning about the specialness of test cricket being removed through over-familiarity. I endorse these sentiments, and suggest they are equally applicable to all areas of international cricket. But it's especially applicable to England, who just lose all the time.

Anyway, moaning aside. Australia won another game. All Indians, except MS Dhoni, crumbled like an under-educated girl in a stock broker’s office. India: pull your socks off. The Aussies must be defeated.

Bang-Lee-dead

Australia are proving to be very good at twenty20, as well as ugly. Bangladesh were battered by 9 wickets, with Australia reaching their target in just 13 overs.

The vomit yellows continued to pin-down the opposition and Brett Lee probing spell was rewarded with a hat-trick, the first in twenty20 history. And even he has a baby Boon belly.

Bangladesh were never in this match. Their tightly organised and disciplined approach to defeat the West Indies dissipated under the Aussie big guns. It was so boring it felt as if I was watching a football match.

Bangladesh really need to pull themselves together. There was some poor captaincy shown, and this is reflective of the lack of leadership in the side. There are few big names, but they are a solid team. Personalities need to come to the fore when you’re playing Australia.

When Matthew Hayden strode out to the crease and started battering them off the park, his physical dominance highlighted Bangladesh’s lack of mental authority. They collectively wilted when the match became difficult. The only thing they are lacking at the moment is steel. They have the skill and ability to beat any side in cricket, they just need the will to get there.

In a much better match, New Zealand beat India by 10 runs. It is difficult to know why India lost this match. It was very close, but both teams lost wickets at regular intervals. No, it was luck, really. Just random events conspiring together to produce a result. Not much point even trying. Everyone should just have a cup of tea in stead. In fact, I’m going to put on a brew now.

Hooray for tea!

England tossed up and eaten in salad

If Zimbabwe are better than Australia and England are better than Zimbabwe, then… Australia are better than England. That’s how crazy twenty20 is, it refutes Leibniz’s law.

England were supremely dispatched by Australia today, in a performance eerily similar to the same drubbing dished out in the other World Cup, held last week. Australia’s bowlers, although never seeming that dangerous, pinned England back to a low total. A score which proved an easy chase.

England’s chances of knocking out the Ausslers from the tournament rested on winning the toss and putting the Canaries into bat. This, Paul Collingwood duly did, but then decided that hara-kiri was the better part of valour, and opted to bat first. Australia obliged to England’s suicidal request, and accordingly put them to the sword.

Interestingly, it was the county twiddlers that proved the weakest component of the English set-up. The apparent experts in handling the demands of the format, crumbled at the first sign pressure.

Luke Wright failed ago, Darren Maddy failed to press on, Dimitri Mascarenhas looked less than intimidating and Chris Schofield reminded us all why he was dropped seven years ago. Rather, it was the international stalwarts that provided the backbone of England’s performance. It would be premature to say that the specialised dibbly-dobbly attack has failed, but it’s not looking dominant.

None of this matters though, because the Australians are wearing...that, that yellow thing. Watching them pranch around like yesterday's manky bananas makes the losing all worth while.

The India-Pakistan match looks good. We need to make sure that India wins, however. Otherwise, Scotland may go through. And that would be like Pol Pot winning the lottery.

Australia and God win World Cup

Well. I suppose I ought to write something about those Ozzie blokes.

Apparently, they won a cricket game the other day. Although, I’m not sure; it was too dark to make out much.

I listened to the fag-end of the Sri Lankan innings on Test Match Special. I was monitoring progress on the internet intermittently whilst watching a rubbishy film on Channel 4. At 100-1, I thought that Sanath Jayasuriya and Kumar Sangakkara were well set to chase down the huge Australian score.

Sadly, I knew all too well what was going to happen. Also, the strange gravity of crap films started to pull. What is it with bad movies? Why must you watch the end? First of all, you don’t care what is going to happen and secondly you already know how it’s going to end.

Anyway, the weather conditions changed. The ball started swinging (which it didn't for the Lankans), clouds came and crucial wickets were lost. Despite the solid platform that Sri Lanka had built, the pressing demands of the Duckworth-Lewis calculations required them up their rate. Resulting in more wickets.

Eventually, night-time came, but the brave little tail-enders continued. Christopher Martin-Jenkins was left with rather ludicrous scenes to describe:

“In comes Clarke, I think it’s Clarke, only I can’t see his head. And he bowls. I’ve lost it. No idea…oh! I think he’s bowled him! Yes! He’s bowled. Oh no, it’s gone for four.”

This match was so stacked against the Sri Lankans I have decided that God must have intervened. This leaves us with the rather troubling corollary that God, therefore, is an Australian. Fortunately, this revelation goes a long way to explain why my socks always seem to be magically stolen.

Look at the picture. Such was the supernatural ability of Adam Gilchrist, that he was able to smash the ball around without a bat.

Grave times for cricket fans. Worse still for atheists.

Rampant canneries eat impotent springboks

The biggest anti-climax to hit the World Cup so far saw Australia thrash pretenders to the throne South Africa by seven wickets.

Useless Saffers totally misread the conditions and decided to go quickly onto the attack after they put themselves in to bat. Ignoring the swinging ball, Glen McGrath’s accurate bowling and all common sense, the South African top order swung merrily away only to lose their wickets repeatedly.

Just Herschelle Gibbs and Justin Kemp showed any steel against the Ozzies. Andre Nel provided some valiant resistance until the end.

Nel is a compulsive competitor. He tried to take the Ozzies on, at eight wickets down. There was slegding between himself and to the world in general. “Bring it on”, he said to the bowler. The Australians just laughed.

This was a pathetic performance and, to be honest, stupid. I think a combination of being labelled “chokers” and Ricky Ponting’s insistence that six-hitting is the way forward in modern cricket saw the end of the Proteas. They were at sea.

A more traditional, slower approach was needed in that innings. The slogging should have waited until the introduction of Shane Watson. There were still seven overs to spare and with a bit of upper-order nurdling, the SA’s could have posted a challenging score. But they were, it seems, totally incapable of changing their strategy.

This, like England's dodgy approach, was daft. One-day cricket is about adaptability and a lightness of foot. The South Africans seemed like a stodgy one-trick pony. And they paid the price.

Now I’m annoyed because only England have pushed the Australians. Let’s hope they get at least one game before they lift the trophy. This is bloody ridiculous. Bloody universe.

British Isles lose

England lose to Australia, and New Zealand beat Ireland.

Seeing as Scotland, Holland and the mighty Canada have all lost their place in the World Cup, it seems as though this is a bad day for the Northern Hemisphere. A Southern Hemisphere domination of world cricket? Crickers is unnervingly becoming more like ruggers everyday It's not all bad, though: at least Australia will lose.

So! The England match! We didn’t lose as badly as everyone thought we would. Oz squeaked home with only three overs and a mere seven wickets to spare. Lucky sods. Kevin Pieterson scored a century, and that made his World Cup. Ian Bell hit an impressive 77, driving Glen McGrath out of the attack. However, spineless England decided to play this rest of the innings, and only Ravi Bopara contributed meaningfully.

A lot has been made of this “collapse”, but Bell and KP built a sufficient foundation to launch an aggressive attack. Risky shots were played, and batsman got out. All the same, we still emerged with a defendable total. A little below par, but a reasonable score nonetheless. The real problem was with the bowling.

Sajid Mahmood conceded for 61 wayward runs off his 9.2 overs, Anderson was ok (going for 4.9 per over) but lacked penetration. Yes, a few umpire decisions went against us, but the truth was that we never looked like getting a wicket. Only Andrew Flintoff held some kind of control over the batsman, even Hero Monty didn’t look dangerous.

Again, one has to ask the question: why is Bopara in the side? He’s an all-rounder; he’s batting at seven. For God’s sake! Make use of him! Chuck in with the openers! Bowl him! Anything!*sigh*

Now, my last point is this: I’m not sure the captaincy was that great in this match. Shock! Horror! Ayalac questions the Great Michael Vaughan?! Well look, only five bowlers were used, all of whom (including nine overs of Colly-wobblers) more or less bowled their maximum allocation. It was obvious that this bowling attack wasn’t firing. Why not experiment with Bopara, KP, Vaughan or even Bell? It can’t harm things.

Anyway, the Kiwis also put in a decent-enough performance against the Irish. The Black Caps posted 263 (three less than the “uninspiring” England total against the same opposition) and they easily finished off Ireland. The batting wasn’t great, but the quicks, spinners and all-rounders did a good job of dispatching the Irish batsman. New Zealand look good. But they still lack that special something, that venom that Australia and South Africa posses. They are not so much a Gary Sobers, more of a Chris Harris on speed.

The giants decide our fate

What a game. The historians will record a substantial Australian victory, but this was a tightly fought match. The Ozzies broke various records to post an intimidating 377 – with Matthew Hayden scoring the fastest century in World Cup history. The South Africans required 7.5 an over to win. A brutal attack by Graeme Smith and AB de Villiers almost made the target look possible. Unfortunately, a freak run-out and cramp saw the SA’s challenge fizzle out, but not before posting a sizable 294.

The most interesting product of this match is the emergence, I think, of a new era in world cricket. Arguably, this process may have started since Johannesburg, but I think this match indicates the existence of a trend. No longer are the Ozzies automatically dominant in all forms of the game. The South Africans now occupy the number one spot in ODIs. Yet, this is not a change of hegemon, it is a duopoly. International cricket has two powerful sides that fight each other as equals, pushing each other forward and ultimately improving the global standard.

This last point is vital. No other Big Fish would have been able to seriously challenge the Australian score as the South Africans did in St. Kitts. Maintaining over seven runs an over throughout the course of an entire innings would have quickly exhausted most batting line-ups. Although the Ozzies did bowl out the South Africans, the steel and determination never left the Proteas’ chase. England would have simply folded without a squeak. Well, maybe a squeak, but nothing more than that. Bloody squeaking is all they do.

Anyway, these two mighty teams are driving each other to achieve greater feats. The performances required for victory are ever bigger in scale. What was impossible is rapidly becoming accepted as standard. The Australians hit 11 sixes in their innings, the SAs only 6. This may not have been the decisive statistic in the match, but it illuminates a change in the nature of modern cricket: exceptional and sustained batting is the norm in the highest level of cricket. At the moment, there is no way that any other nation can compete with either of these sides. Yet, the rivalry between two truly great sides is certainly engrossing. Long may they both continue to improve world cricket.

Whilst I was watching this match, I saw possibly the second-greatest catch of all time. It was a spectator, who, I believe, caught one of Ricky Ponting’s massive sixes. The ball shot from Punter’s bat like teeth from gran’s mouth – a real wizzer. This beer-belly in the crowd was merrily chatting away to his mate, whereupon he saw a missile streaming over his head. In a flash, a pork-pie sized fist jabbed into the air and plucked this rocket from out of the air before it broke the stand behind. Only one hand was available for this deed, as the other was holding a beer. I was stunned by this skill. I was going to put a picture of this accomplishment on my blog, but I think a cartoon will better convey the brilliance and instinct of the moment.

It was like that, only more beautiful.