Finally, people have come to their senses

At last, someone is placing personal interests over collective benefit. Some dodgy company I’ve never heard of, has threatened to bring down the entire Stanford circus, unless it gets its way.

Brilliant.

This company, Dulux, or something, came out of nowhere and insisted that it should receive all the proceeds to the up-and-coming Caribbean shambles. Apparently, they're the official paint of the West Indies team, and got the House of Lords to agree to their insane demands.

Lord Denning, in his judgment, stated,

“There shall be no whitewash in the cricket.”

Previously, Allen Wankford had argued that the Windies’ sponsors were nothing more than weenies. When the Dulux Dog (team mascot and number three) heard this, he was said to be livid.

“I’m livid, me.”

But now things have resolved themselves with the natural ease of most problems in a free market economy. Bastardford held a jubilant press conference after the compromise was hammered out:

“I have wired a huge amount of money to the Dulux Dog. He has accepted this gesture with the kindness with which it was given, and now we will proceed to walk over all those who stand before us.”

What can’t Stanford bugger off and save snooker or something?

Snooker is similar to cricket. It is considered, by those outside the game, a boring and pointless activity. To this sentiment, I generally concur.

Clearly, snooker needs a helping hand.

That is why the new Tell All Texans To Bugger Off And Start Messing About With Snooker starts here.

There’s an obsequious turd of a piece by Simon Wilde in today’s Sunday Times heralding Allen “Sir” Stanford's immanent messianic saving of English cricket.

In the words of a fine and ineffective ex-Prime Minister: “crisis, what crisis?” Forgive me if I’m fucking stupid in the brain, but hasn’t cricket been ticking over quite nicely without the interference of a moneyed yank who finds test cricket “boring”?

Oh wait. I idealistically forgot about cash. That’s the most important thing in cricket, right? I mean, that’s what it’s all about: making some former investment banker who used to keep wicket for Harrow Second XI as a light distraction from his bullying by the older boys and sexual harassment by the teachers, who now fancies a spot of cricket administration when he isn’t crunching on our hard-earned credit like a hungry, hungry hippo through adventerous German tourists.

But, the bankers say, if we set up a super-rich twenty20 competition, then Kevin Pietersen won’t leave us. And if he leaves us, we won’t have that stylised tart poncing about over the celebrity magazines, too concerned with highlighting and brain pedicures to mess about with getting runs for England. Heaven forefend the possibility of allowing in an English player who actually wants to play and try hard for his country.

I MEAN HEAVEN FOREFEND!

The future of the English Premier League is still under debate. We don’t know whether we’re going to get a two division system, or some artificial “regional” structure. Frankly, I don’t care. These discussions are rather like mulling over the fate of the battle’s survivors: should we bayonet them or squish them in a juice press?

Bastards. The lot of them. Why does cricket have to endure this whilst snooker is unmolested? What did we do to deserve this? Is it because we don’t wear snazzy waistcoats?

Official AYALAC line on those Indian leagues

Be warned, this post is angry.

Right, the Indian Premier League (IPL) is rubbish. Let’s get that cleared out of the way. I have kept quiet on these twenty20 competitions because I don’t like twenty20. But now is the time for the noisy minority to speak out.

First came the Indian Cricket League - a rubbishy enterprise that sought to make lots of money from has-been or never-will-be cricketers. “Oh! That’s a terrible idea!” moaned the BCCI, “You’ll ruin cricket.”

But then they saw how much money could be made, and then they thought, “Bugger cricket! Let’s go for the money.”

Of course, this is a perfectly reasonable thought, if you are in a position to realise it, selling out for cash is always a good idea. However, I am not, so I think it’s a rubbish thought.

Now, the BCCI has decided that its raison d'etre is to make money, it is acting like any monopolistic firm would: it is clamping down on its competitors to maximise profits.

You might argue that the world cricket boards are behaving in an oligopolistic fashion – a small number of firms acting as a cartel to control the market. But you would be wrong; damn wrong.

The BCCI is the Big Daddy of the cricketing world, if Daddy wants other boards to ban players for playing in an unsanctioned league, then Daddy gets.

It is at this point that the analogy of sensible mechanisms of a free markets break down. Players are workers (bear with me) just like us; they sell their labour for money. Nothing wrong with that.

In any normal market, you apply to different firms, see who can offer you the most. Oh no, not in the BCCI’s market. The Daddy doesn’t want players to chose. Daddy wants them to be his bitches. AND WHAT DADDY WANTS, DADDY GETS.

Because Daddy wants a piece of the action, the other boards are struggling to pussy-foot their domestic schedules around Daddy. The IPL, generally, does not impact upon many other leagues – all except England’s, of course.

The early season of the English county championship overlaps with the IPL, so some of our more exciting players will be tempted away to the sub-continent. Even touring Kiwis are requesting permission to bugger off.

What that’s, little one-legged, orphan-boy, Jimmy? You want to watch your favourite, Dimitri Mascarenhas play at Hampshire this season? You’ll be saving up for ages for that ticket?

Well tough totty. DADDY WANTS DIMITRI MASCARENHAS.

The worst thing about this whole endeavour is that no-one knows why they are doing it.

The IPL bases itself around English football’s Premier League – the most soulless of all the football leagues. People come from all over the world to play in places like Middlesborough. Adoring fan attempt to scream unprenouceable names as if the centre forward from Burkina Faso was actually their mate Pete who works in the chip shop.

They don’t care they. As long as “their” side wins. They recognise money is necessary for this – everyone else has money, right?

Ah. That’s why we’re doing this. Money. Of course. How incredibly stupid of me. Money is important to have in the game, isn’t it?

Just look at England, historically loaded with government grant after government grant, and look how wisely they have spent it. Look how good our team is.

What! Am I suggesting that there is no evidence that shows that money has improved the game? Surely not! The administrators tell us without money the game would die. If the kiddies playing in the street weren’t sponsored by Arse Ltd., they would literally put down their bats and play golf. Literally.

It’s odd to think how India won the World Cup in 1983, when its Board wasn’t nearly as rich as it is now. Must have been a fluke. Cricket wasn’t as good as it is now. That’s FACT. Just look at the money involved.

Bollocks to you IPL. Bollocks to you twenty20. Bollocks to you BCCI. Bollocks to the cricket administrators. Bollocks to the lot of you.

Right. Well, lets lighten the mood, shall we? (Well done on getting this far.) On a happier note, King Cricket has grown up, and put into print. That’s right, paper!

When you thinking you’re doing OK as a blogger, someone like JRod comes along, and blogs his way into the annuals of legendary bloggers overnight. His excellent site has just started a new podcast series. Well worth a listen to.

Those blogs are happy places.

There is a very interesting article on the Canadian cricket website, about the under-development of cricket in the Americas.

It documents the first overseas tour in 1859, as All-England took on the Americans.

…the tour concluded with the notorious 'Frosty Match' played at Rochester, NY, on October 21, 24, and 25 between Eleven of England and Twenty-two of the United States and Canada. The home side was wrecked by the round-arm bowling of John Wisden (of the Cricket Almanack). But dismissal appeared to come as relief to the half frozen batsmen. "Shiver my timbers, I'm out!" was the relieved cry as they made a dash for the warmth of the pavilion. The home side was beaten, early on the third day, by an innings and 70 runs, but in fact, it was cricket that was defeated on the fields of Rochester.

Cricket simply failed to attract a broader audience that day. A PR disaster; cricket beaten by bad weather. It may have been the first such instance, but it wasn’t the last.

The article goes on to place partial responsibility for the death of cricket, on those that attempted to preserve it, specifically those in Philadelphia:

Indeed, I sometimes think that it was the snobbishness of Philadelphia which was largely responsible for branding cricket as a 'stuck-up' game in popular American perception

Compared to the everyman’s game of baseball, cricket didn’t have a chance. It was seen as exclusive. Which is, in itself, part of the contradictory nature of cricket: its charm lies in its antiquated and rather archaic rules that baffle outsiders. Cricket stops for tea, plays with a straight bat, and have you ever tried to explain a forward defensive to someone who knows nothing about the game? Cricket feeds on these snobberies, and appeals to those who are dissatisfied with American culture.

In another possible world cricket could have survived in America. But imagine the game if the yanks got hold of it. It would be a vulgar spectacle, with unnecessary American rules with silly titles like “power plays”. Games would last no more than twenty overs, and awful music would blare out when boundaries are scored. Ghastly.

Thankfully, this never happened, and cricket remains the better game. Conversely, baseball did catch on over here. Only we call in “rounders” and it is played by children.