If cricket is a game of fine detail and small margins, two incidents defined a Test match which has ended in crushing series defeat for England and the end of the line for one of their greatest captains. One was Vaughan's second innings dismissal: a scorching cover drive which skimmed just inches from the turf and was brilliantly pouched by Hashim Amla. Then, in pursuit of a steep target, his opposite number almost imperceptibly gloved Monty Panesar through to the 'keeper but survived. Providence allowed Graeme Smith to continue on his way to a career-defining achievement; for Vaughan, whose own apogee has begun to look increasingly distant, luck had run out and with it his time as captain.
The Ashes defined Vaughan's international career - as a batsman two tours ago and as captain in 2005. The natural end to his captaincy was against Australia next summer: based on a deeply disappointing second stint as captain, he must have decided that there was no realistic chance his team could be competitive in that series. There will be mixed feelings on his departure: relief that an increasingly torturous period for English cricket is at an end; regret that England have lost a man who epitomised good leadership. Class is the word that best describes Vaughan; it shone from his every action on the field. He has also shown in it the timing of his resignation, before his own position started to become a bigger issue than the team itself.
Well as he has served England, the need to sever the links with Duncan Flethcer's era, which Vaughan never stopped representing, had becoming pressing. The team has not moved forward since the painful Ashes drubbing 18 months ago, and there was little prospect of such an outcome under present circumstances. One feels there was never rapport between Vaughan and Peter Moores, who now has the chance to form a more even-handed relationship with a new captain. That seems likely to be Kevin Pietersen, with the selectors keen to move away from the split-captaincy. If that is the case, they will fervently hope that the effect is not the same as the last time the torch was passed to the team's outstanding batsman.
But before the feeding frenzy begins over the new appointment, it is worth pausing to reflect on the achievements of the outgoing man. Along with Duncan Fletcher he managed the remains of Nasser Hussain's unit well, quickly forging a team which was undoubtedly his own. He helped establish a team ethic which sustained England through to their Ashes victory, albeit which started to become corrosive as that team was dismantled. Many of his achievements chartered territory untouched for a generation or more. The greatest pity was that he never really had the chance to build on the success of 2005: injuries both to himself and other key men crippled the team almost terminally. By the time he returned the connecting thread had been stretched too thin. But he will be remembered for his successes, and, whether or not England fans ever glimpse the perfect cover drive again, his place in history is secure.
Showing posts with label Retirement. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Retirement. Show all posts
Sunday, 3 August 2008
Saturday, 26 January 2008
Changing of the guard
There is a difference between leaving an indelible mark on sport and changing it. One does not necessarily mean the other; but for Adam Gilchrist, who announced his retirement from international cricket the day after taking the record for most dismissals by a wicket-keeper in Tests, they were feats very much united. Pre-Gilchrist, the definition of the ideal wicket-keeper was a top-notch gloveman who could be niggly, aggressive and unconventional with the bat. Take five of the most celebrated post-war examples: Godfrey Evans, Alan Knott, Rodney Marsh, Jeffrey Dujon and Ian Healy. Their averages range from 20.49 (Evans) to 32.75 (Knott); together, they managed 19 Test centuries in 482 Tests. Gilchrist, yet to bat in his farewell game and with a flat Adelaide pitch to look forward to, boasts an average of 47.89, with 17 centuries and a record 414 dismissals from 96 Tests. And those are figures which very much reflect a latter-day slump. As late as his 47th Test match, his average touched 60; 15 of his centuries had been recorded nearly 30 games ago, before he had played 100 Test innings. And that is not to mention one-day cricket.
When the chance arrived, success came quickly for Gilchrist; but the path to international cricket was far from the cakewalk his talent and record might suggest. He could not get a game for his home state NSW, so travelled to the other side of Australia and found a home at Perth, a journey further than London to Cairo. He then suffered the ire of his own fans for replacing the incumbent, something that he was to experience again when he graduated to the Australian Test team. Tim Zoehrer was the darling at the WACA, while he was far from flavour of the month making his Test debut on Ian Healy's patch at Brisbane. He was soon to earn their adulation. His first Test innings almost brought a maiden century, with 81 off not many more deliveries; the next game, he both chalked up his first ton and won a game for Australia, joining with Justin Langer to chase a total of 369 which had seemed impossible from 126-5. That typified Gilchrist; he was not the first wicket-keeper to act as frequent fireman, but it was the manner of his play which set him apart. He dealt not in fighting fifties, rather lacerating centuries; he could turn difficult situations into winning ones within two sessions and often did. Australia might look the deadest of dead dogs, but were never out of it while Gilchrist was yet to have his say.
All the Australian teams Gilchrist played in over a nine-year Test career struck fear into their opposition. With the bat, you could be battered from the off by Slater or Hayden; ground down by Ponting, Steve Waugh or Hussey; regally dismissed by Mark Waugh or Martyn. But not even those stellar names and reputations carried the same aura as Gilchrist. Often he seemed impossible to bowl to, driving and cutting powerfully on the off side; scooping and flicking on the leg. Spinners he swept or charged to bully straight down the ground. It was uninhibited, thrilling and utterly demoralising for bowlers and captains. Well-laid plans and carefully-set fields were frequently rendered meaningless; no better than watching and hoping, the last resort which Gilchrist delighted in bringing about quickly. For an example of his inventiveness, look no further than the first Test of the 2001 Ashes at Edgbaston. Gilchrist, a boundary away from 150, was helping his team reduce England's latest Ashes challenge to rubble just days into the series. Andy Caddick, one ball remaining of his nth over, was determined he would not be the bowler to concede the landmark. He delivered a head high bouncer; Gilchirst stepped inside, and, with a vertical bat, dobbed the ball over Alec Stewart's head for the boundary. One shot that showed all the best attributes of the man: the eye of a hawk, intuitiveness, and a sense of fun which never left him and is one reason he will leave the international stage amongst the most popular players.
If Gilchrist had never gone near the wicket-keeping gloves, he would still be regarded as an amazing cricketer. That he managed such incredible batting feats with the added burden is what places him in the pantheon of the all-timers. Indeed it is probably the recent downturn in his keeping which has brought about what seemed an unlikely decision to retire. He was never a natural, impish gloveman, but at his best he was an extremely capable and reliable one. His athletic diving catches, such as that which dispatched Michael Vaughan at The Oval in 2005, and assured handling of Warne's warheads place him above the class of the artisan, while misses, before the last throes of his career, were infrequent. It is his underplayed wicket-keeping ability which has caused others to flounder while trying to find their own model, England especially. The benefit of a century-scoring batsman at No.7 caused others to ignore the basic Gilchrist brought to the table; wicket-keeping was always the first and last for Gilchrist, as it must be for any gloveman, however crucial the runs.
Adaptability was another feature of the Gilchrist legend. He first fulfilled the opener's role in ODI cricket almost by mistake, but will be remembered as one of the finest ever to play the one-day game. It is unthinkable that any other could hold the gloves in an all-time one-day World XI. With Australia in strife against Sri Lanka in 2004 and Ricky Ponting unable to bat at 3 in the second innings, Gilchrist stepped up and made 144. Australia won by 27 runs. It was Gilchrist, not Ponting, who captained Australia to victory in the 2004-5 series in India, doing what illustrious predecessors Taylor and Waugh had failed to.
It was 2005 when Gilchrist's golden period, along with Australia's, shuddered to a halt. Cramped by the round-the-wicket line of Flintoff and discomfited by the length which made the ball bounce above the flailing blade rather than into its arc, Gilchrist's best in the 5-match series was just 49. Had he been anything like himself with the bat, Australia would have won. Unlike his team, Gilchrist never really recovered, with only two more centuries and an increasing number of chances missed behind the stumps. Occasionally his batting flared, and spectacularly, with stupefying centuries against England, at Perth, and Sri Lanka, in the World Cup final. But they were sparks from a dying light, and it is probably prudent of Gilchrist to end his career now, before the murmurings over his position had a chance to become something more concrete. Perhaps with Brad Haddin's presence in the ODI team alongside him, he has sensed the shadow lengthening, in the same way his own hastened the end for Ian Healy back in 1999. Yet again, Australia can replace the great experience of a Test player with a seasoned pro at domestic level, and Haddin will likely do a very good job. But they have lost another of their golden era, someone whose career spanned both runs of 16 wins. Moreover, cricket has lost a star, a gent, and a player who can be ranked amongst the greatest ever at the very moment he hangs up his gloves for the last time.
When the chance arrived, success came quickly for Gilchrist; but the path to international cricket was far from the cakewalk his talent and record might suggest. He could not get a game for his home state NSW, so travelled to the other side of Australia and found a home at Perth, a journey further than London to Cairo. He then suffered the ire of his own fans for replacing the incumbent, something that he was to experience again when he graduated to the Australian Test team. Tim Zoehrer was the darling at the WACA, while he was far from flavour of the month making his Test debut on Ian Healy's patch at Brisbane. He was soon to earn their adulation. His first Test innings almost brought a maiden century, with 81 off not many more deliveries; the next game, he both chalked up his first ton and won a game for Australia, joining with Justin Langer to chase a total of 369 which had seemed impossible from 126-5. That typified Gilchrist; he was not the first wicket-keeper to act as frequent fireman, but it was the manner of his play which set him apart. He dealt not in fighting fifties, rather lacerating centuries; he could turn difficult situations into winning ones within two sessions and often did. Australia might look the deadest of dead dogs, but were never out of it while Gilchrist was yet to have his say.
All the Australian teams Gilchrist played in over a nine-year Test career struck fear into their opposition. With the bat, you could be battered from the off by Slater or Hayden; ground down by Ponting, Steve Waugh or Hussey; regally dismissed by Mark Waugh or Martyn. But not even those stellar names and reputations carried the same aura as Gilchrist. Often he seemed impossible to bowl to, driving and cutting powerfully on the off side; scooping and flicking on the leg. Spinners he swept or charged to bully straight down the ground. It was uninhibited, thrilling and utterly demoralising for bowlers and captains. Well-laid plans and carefully-set fields were frequently rendered meaningless; no better than watching and hoping, the last resort which Gilchrist delighted in bringing about quickly. For an example of his inventiveness, look no further than the first Test of the 2001 Ashes at Edgbaston. Gilchrist, a boundary away from 150, was helping his team reduce England's latest Ashes challenge to rubble just days into the series. Andy Caddick, one ball remaining of his nth over, was determined he would not be the bowler to concede the landmark. He delivered a head high bouncer; Gilchirst stepped inside, and, with a vertical bat, dobbed the ball over Alec Stewart's head for the boundary. One shot that showed all the best attributes of the man: the eye of a hawk, intuitiveness, and a sense of fun which never left him and is one reason he will leave the international stage amongst the most popular players.
If Gilchrist had never gone near the wicket-keeping gloves, he would still be regarded as an amazing cricketer. That he managed such incredible batting feats with the added burden is what places him in the pantheon of the all-timers. Indeed it is probably the recent downturn in his keeping which has brought about what seemed an unlikely decision to retire. He was never a natural, impish gloveman, but at his best he was an extremely capable and reliable one. His athletic diving catches, such as that which dispatched Michael Vaughan at The Oval in 2005, and assured handling of Warne's warheads place him above the class of the artisan, while misses, before the last throes of his career, were infrequent. It is his underplayed wicket-keeping ability which has caused others to flounder while trying to find their own model, England especially. The benefit of a century-scoring batsman at No.7 caused others to ignore the basic Gilchrist brought to the table; wicket-keeping was always the first and last for Gilchrist, as it must be for any gloveman, however crucial the runs.
Adaptability was another feature of the Gilchrist legend. He first fulfilled the opener's role in ODI cricket almost by mistake, but will be remembered as one of the finest ever to play the one-day game. It is unthinkable that any other could hold the gloves in an all-time one-day World XI. With Australia in strife against Sri Lanka in 2004 and Ricky Ponting unable to bat at 3 in the second innings, Gilchrist stepped up and made 144. Australia won by 27 runs. It was Gilchrist, not Ponting, who captained Australia to victory in the 2004-5 series in India, doing what illustrious predecessors Taylor and Waugh had failed to.
It was 2005 when Gilchrist's golden period, along with Australia's, shuddered to a halt. Cramped by the round-the-wicket line of Flintoff and discomfited by the length which made the ball bounce above the flailing blade rather than into its arc, Gilchrist's best in the 5-match series was just 49. Had he been anything like himself with the bat, Australia would have won. Unlike his team, Gilchrist never really recovered, with only two more centuries and an increasing number of chances missed behind the stumps. Occasionally his batting flared, and spectacularly, with stupefying centuries against England, at Perth, and Sri Lanka, in the World Cup final. But they were sparks from a dying light, and it is probably prudent of Gilchrist to end his career now, before the murmurings over his position had a chance to become something more concrete. Perhaps with Brad Haddin's presence in the ODI team alongside him, he has sensed the shadow lengthening, in the same way his own hastened the end for Ian Healy back in 1999. Yet again, Australia can replace the great experience of a Test player with a seasoned pro at domestic level, and Haddin will likely do a very good job. But they have lost another of their golden era, someone whose career spanned both runs of 16 wins. Moreover, cricket has lost a star, a gent, and a player who can be ranked amongst the greatest ever at the very moment he hangs up his gloves for the last time.
Friday, 7 December 2007
Time for heroes
It will be of little consolation to England that the Test match just gone, which has left them in the invidious position of one down with two to play in the series, was a rare gem, a prescient reminder of the intrigue and excitement the 5-day game can provide following a recent proliferation of dull, one-sided cricket around the world. On a pitch which suited the English seamers on the first day, Murali on the second and batsmen thereafter, England did considerably better than had been expected of them in terms of runs on the last day, doing enough to suggest that better early efforts with both bat and ball in the second innings might have swung the contest their way. They came close to repeating their escape of the last tour here, when Vaughan's century and some doughty resistance from the unlikely duo of Read and Batty prevented Sri Lanka by a single wicket from sealing victory. However, like the roof of the dilapidated Asgiriya stadium, the top order came crashing down on the fifth day, with the first five wickets going down before the first hundred runs had been posted, leaving a task which Bell and Prior came very close to surmounting until stumbling on the final block in form of the second new ball.
Unlike their last visit to Kandy, England were very much in the game, but despite nice efforts from Bell, twice, and Jayasuriya in his last Test innings, only one batsman truly mastered the deceptive conditions, playing the significant and match-deciding innings. Even in the context of the recent achievements of Mohammed Yousuf, who eclipsed Viv Richard's record for Test runs in a year and Michael Hussey, currently making a more concerted effort to deserve the title Bradmanesque than any other since the man himself, the batting exploits of Kumar Sangakkara stand out. Even before his recent rise to the stratosphere of run-scoring, Sangakkara was a highly impressive cricketer - silky batsman, skilled gloveman, and one of the most eloquent players on the international circuit. Now he has handed the gauntlets over to Prasanna Jayawardene, who himself looked an extremely nifty practitioner, one can add the fact that runs flow as freely from his bat as revered utterances from the microphone of Richie Benaud, or sensitive personal details from the Home Office. Unhindered by keeping duties, he averages 96.40 from 22 Tests (Hussey 86.18 from 18 in all, Bradman 102.48 from his first 22); on current form, he should breeze past the 1000 run mark for the calendar year in just his sixth Test, with 4 centuries and an average of 184.20 so far. The rest of the world can but offer a silent prayer of thanks that Gilchrist never considered giving up the gloves.
However, as one career blossoms and writes itself into the annals for perpetuity, another, that of Sanath Jayasuriya, his position in cricketing history long since secured, came to a dignified and fitting ending. That is to say he pummelled the crap out of England's bowlers in the second innings, took an important wicket with his left-arm spin and was generally the main pillar of support for the titanic duo of Sangakkara and Muralitharan. His statistics - Test average flush on 40, ODI one of just over 30 - indicate significant, but not special prowess; his feats however, will be remembered as fondly and seriously as those of the very greatest. Many of them have been against England, yet watching him was always a joy, regardless of the dismantling he would be effecting on your team's bowling attack. He retires as a 38 year-old who still hits the ball as hard and sweet as any player in his prime, with a sackful of memories, legions of fans and basking in the glory of one last thrash, the fitting codicil he penned for himself by slaying all six balls of a James Anderson over for boundaries.
Jayasuriya departs with a job technically only half-done, but one whose completion England can only prevent by functioning at twice their normal level of performance. Crushingly it seems they will be deprived of their slickest bowling practitioner, Matthew Hoggard, whose run of injury woe continued with a recurrence of the back problem which incapacitated him in the summer. In his absence, the England attack looks both green and threadbare. Yet, lurking in the background, remains the one link England still have to the attack which catpulted them to pre-eminence two very long years ago. Sadly since then , Steven Harmison's connection with the bowler he used to be has grown ever fainter. But England have no choice. Neither, in fact, does Harmison, if he really wants his Test career to last much longer. England have supported, nursed and defended Harmison in the face of increasing public indignation since his Ashes debacle last year. Harmison, who can be the big bully but craves the support of his cornermen, must now dig deep and find the ability to lead an attack one would expect in the veteran of 54 Tests. Sidebottom will plug away accurately, something he can be relied on for even when the wickets dry up, as they have and may continue to do here; it is Harmison who must provide the inspiration, aggression and threat. It is time he stopped being afraid of himself and the game and started instilling some fear into his opposition, as he did in his pomp in 2004.
James Anderson was unlucky in the first Test; he also went at 5.5 an over in the second innings and would be fortunate to retain his place. Stuart Broad is champing at the bit for the Test debut he has been close to since the summer; England have already backed youth in this series once by selecting Ravi Bopara, and Broad is a significantly tougher nut than his lithe frame suggests. Unless the wise-men see a pitch at Colombo which merits the inclusion of Graeme Swann as a second spinner, they must unleash twin totems Broad and Harmison. England are left with an ask which could not be much harder if Arjuna Ranatunga himself were pulling the strings of fate; they have won from here before, two tours ago, with sterling performances from the seam bowlers, spin duo and a few doughty batsmen. For Thorpe, read Pietersen; for Croft, Panesar; for Gough and Caddick, Sidebottom and Harmison. For the knowledge of that outcome and its ramifications, substitute hope and apprehension. And pray the English bats hold firm, the bowlers avoid further injury and the umpires' trigger fingers are judicious. Get grafting.
Unlike their last visit to Kandy, England were very much in the game, but despite nice efforts from Bell, twice, and Jayasuriya in his last Test innings, only one batsman truly mastered the deceptive conditions, playing the significant and match-deciding innings. Even in the context of the recent achievements of Mohammed Yousuf, who eclipsed Viv Richard's record for Test runs in a year and Michael Hussey, currently making a more concerted effort to deserve the title Bradmanesque than any other since the man himself, the batting exploits of Kumar Sangakkara stand out. Even before his recent rise to the stratosphere of run-scoring, Sangakkara was a highly impressive cricketer - silky batsman, skilled gloveman, and one of the most eloquent players on the international circuit. Now he has handed the gauntlets over to Prasanna Jayawardene, who himself looked an extremely nifty practitioner, one can add the fact that runs flow as freely from his bat as revered utterances from the microphone of Richie Benaud, or sensitive personal details from the Home Office. Unhindered by keeping duties, he averages 96.40 from 22 Tests (Hussey 86.18 from 18 in all, Bradman 102.48 from his first 22); on current form, he should breeze past the 1000 run mark for the calendar year in just his sixth Test, with 4 centuries and an average of 184.20 so far. The rest of the world can but offer a silent prayer of thanks that Gilchrist never considered giving up the gloves.
However, as one career blossoms and writes itself into the annals for perpetuity, another, that of Sanath Jayasuriya, his position in cricketing history long since secured, came to a dignified and fitting ending. That is to say he pummelled the crap out of England's bowlers in the second innings, took an important wicket with his left-arm spin and was generally the main pillar of support for the titanic duo of Sangakkara and Muralitharan. His statistics - Test average flush on 40, ODI one of just over 30 - indicate significant, but not special prowess; his feats however, will be remembered as fondly and seriously as those of the very greatest. Many of them have been against England, yet watching him was always a joy, regardless of the dismantling he would be effecting on your team's bowling attack. He retires as a 38 year-old who still hits the ball as hard and sweet as any player in his prime, with a sackful of memories, legions of fans and basking in the glory of one last thrash, the fitting codicil he penned for himself by slaying all six balls of a James Anderson over for boundaries.
Jayasuriya departs with a job technically only half-done, but one whose completion England can only prevent by functioning at twice their normal level of performance. Crushingly it seems they will be deprived of their slickest bowling practitioner, Matthew Hoggard, whose run of injury woe continued with a recurrence of the back problem which incapacitated him in the summer. In his absence, the England attack looks both green and threadbare. Yet, lurking in the background, remains the one link England still have to the attack which catpulted them to pre-eminence two very long years ago. Sadly since then , Steven Harmison's connection with the bowler he used to be has grown ever fainter. But England have no choice. Neither, in fact, does Harmison, if he really wants his Test career to last much longer. England have supported, nursed and defended Harmison in the face of increasing public indignation since his Ashes debacle last year. Harmison, who can be the big bully but craves the support of his cornermen, must now dig deep and find the ability to lead an attack one would expect in the veteran of 54 Tests. Sidebottom will plug away accurately, something he can be relied on for even when the wickets dry up, as they have and may continue to do here; it is Harmison who must provide the inspiration, aggression and threat. It is time he stopped being afraid of himself and the game and started instilling some fear into his opposition, as he did in his pomp in 2004.
James Anderson was unlucky in the first Test; he also went at 5.5 an over in the second innings and would be fortunate to retain his place. Stuart Broad is champing at the bit for the Test debut he has been close to since the summer; England have already backed youth in this series once by selecting Ravi Bopara, and Broad is a significantly tougher nut than his lithe frame suggests. Unless the wise-men see a pitch at Colombo which merits the inclusion of Graeme Swann as a second spinner, they must unleash twin totems Broad and Harmison. England are left with an ask which could not be much harder if Arjuna Ranatunga himself were pulling the strings of fate; they have won from here before, two tours ago, with sterling performances from the seam bowlers, spin duo and a few doughty batsmen. For Thorpe, read Pietersen; for Croft, Panesar; for Gough and Caddick, Sidebottom and Harmison. For the knowledge of that outcome and its ramifications, substitute hope and apprehension. And pray the English bats hold firm, the bowlers avoid further injury and the umpires' trigger fingers are judicious. Get grafting.
Saturday, 24 November 2007
The man time should not forget
Australia, and particularly their batsmen, have dominated cricket, international and domestic, for the best part of two decades. The list of Australian batsmen who have been the envy of all other nations from Allan Border on seems endless: since his mid-eighties pomp, they have been able to boast the likes of David Boon, Mark Taylor, Steve and Mark Waugh, Ricky Ponting, Damien Martyn, Langer and Hayden, Adam Gilchrist, and latterly a man who is upstaging even those eminent peers, Michael Hussey. What is more incredible is the number of batsmen who have been unable to force their way into the side due to the weight of talent. English county cricket has been the main beneficiary, accommodating the likes of Stuart Law, Matt Elliott, Michael Bevan, Michael DiVenuto, Brad Hodge and Greg Blewett when Australia could not find room for them, which was often. But good and successful as those batsmen have been for their states and counties, there is one primus inter pares, a man who has scored more runs than any other in Sheffield Shield cricket and possesses a better batting average for Yorkshire than Hutton, Boycott or Sutcliffe - Darren Lehmann.
But while high-class Australian batsmen have been commonplace recently, happy endings have not, a constant throughout cricket history. And that seemed the way Lehmann's career was going to conclude, after he suffered deep-vein thrombosis followed by an Achilles injury which led to him tearfully announcing his retirement last week. But the great champion of modern domestic cricket had one last flourish left, striking joyous centuries in both his final List A and first class games, within days of each other. His state South Australia are in crisis, something which his retirement can only deepen, but he has given them a fitting farewell, just as he did for Yorkshire with 339 in his last game to ensure their survival in Division 1 of the Championship. It is an irony that Lehmann, denied the chance to spend his career lording it with the Australian Test team, has instead devoted himself to salvaging lost causes, not without success, as his key role in Yorkshire's 2001 title-winning side showed.
His statistics speak for themselves yet leave so much unsaid: a first class average of over 57, 82 centuries and trailing only Hick and Ramprakash, over 1500 innings between them, in terms of runs scored. Nevertheless, that was not enough to earn him a long-lease on a spot in the Test side, winning just 27 caps despite an average touching 45, a figure which extended over 50 in his comeback phase in 2002-4, after he had squandered his initial chance in 1998. It was in ODIs where he had more opportunities, notching up over 100 caps and playing in two World-Cup winning sides. His power and adaptability made him perfect for the middle-order and overs in one-day cricket, not to mention the handy left-arm spin, with which he gathered well over 50 wickets, averaging 27 in both Test and ODI cricket. Having stepped aside to allow Michael Clarke the chance, poor form eventually saw the end of his Test career, although the Australian selectors might have been regretting their folly months later, as the Australian batsmen struggled in the conditions which Lehmann had become accustomed to during his time at Yorkshire. Lehmann reinforced the message the next Australian summer, with his best ever season for South Australia.
But it was his personality and character which endeared him to fans on both side of the world as much as his titanic run-scoring feats. One of the dwindling number from the generation for whom fitness was a tertiary concern, Lehmann was definitely a member of the "balanced diet is a pie in each hand" brigade, and could frequently be seen on balconies indulging his nicotine habit. Now we have fitness coaches and a smoking ban - for Lehmann the booze and fags just added to his allure. And that is not to mention the sheer brilliance of his batting; hitting the ball joyously hard, treating the best spinners as he would have his own bowling, the sweetest of slashing square cuts. He managed to twin those oft unhappy bedfellows- scoring runs and entertaining the crowd. Lehmann never bored; he seldom failed.
Yorkshire had, of course, only acquiesced to the idea of overseas players (with overseas concerning the South of England as much as South Australia) in 1992, and had had mixed experiences with Sachin Tendulkar, Richie Richardson and Michael Bevan. Yet after a career short by the standards of Yorkshire legends, not even the most grudging of broad acre curmudgeons could have criticism for him, and he was duly included in a Yorkshire Post greatest ever XI, the native of Gawler standing tall alongside the likes of Geoffrey, Wilfred and Sir Leonard. Having fallen short of George Hirst's 100 year old record for the highest score by a Yorkshireman, his reaction was typical: "George was a better batsman than me anyway." For any other born outside Yorkshire to have made an attempt on the record would have been seen as heresy; yet for Lehmann, an exception would have been made. He had won over the hardest-to-please fans in the world, and for that alone he deserves his place in history.
But while high-class Australian batsmen have been commonplace recently, happy endings have not, a constant throughout cricket history. And that seemed the way Lehmann's career was going to conclude, after he suffered deep-vein thrombosis followed by an Achilles injury which led to him tearfully announcing his retirement last week. But the great champion of modern domestic cricket had one last flourish left, striking joyous centuries in both his final List A and first class games, within days of each other. His state South Australia are in crisis, something which his retirement can only deepen, but he has given them a fitting farewell, just as he did for Yorkshire with 339 in his last game to ensure their survival in Division 1 of the Championship. It is an irony that Lehmann, denied the chance to spend his career lording it with the Australian Test team, has instead devoted himself to salvaging lost causes, not without success, as his key role in Yorkshire's 2001 title-winning side showed.
His statistics speak for themselves yet leave so much unsaid: a first class average of over 57, 82 centuries and trailing only Hick and Ramprakash, over 1500 innings between them, in terms of runs scored. Nevertheless, that was not enough to earn him a long-lease on a spot in the Test side, winning just 27 caps despite an average touching 45, a figure which extended over 50 in his comeback phase in 2002-4, after he had squandered his initial chance in 1998. It was in ODIs where he had more opportunities, notching up over 100 caps and playing in two World-Cup winning sides. His power and adaptability made him perfect for the middle-order and overs in one-day cricket, not to mention the handy left-arm spin, with which he gathered well over 50 wickets, averaging 27 in both Test and ODI cricket. Having stepped aside to allow Michael Clarke the chance, poor form eventually saw the end of his Test career, although the Australian selectors might have been regretting their folly months later, as the Australian batsmen struggled in the conditions which Lehmann had become accustomed to during his time at Yorkshire. Lehmann reinforced the message the next Australian summer, with his best ever season for South Australia.
But it was his personality and character which endeared him to fans on both side of the world as much as his titanic run-scoring feats. One of the dwindling number from the generation for whom fitness was a tertiary concern, Lehmann was definitely a member of the "balanced diet is a pie in each hand" brigade, and could frequently be seen on balconies indulging his nicotine habit. Now we have fitness coaches and a smoking ban - for Lehmann the booze and fags just added to his allure. And that is not to mention the sheer brilliance of his batting; hitting the ball joyously hard, treating the best spinners as he would have his own bowling, the sweetest of slashing square cuts. He managed to twin those oft unhappy bedfellows- scoring runs and entertaining the crowd. Lehmann never bored; he seldom failed.
Yorkshire had, of course, only acquiesced to the idea of overseas players (with overseas concerning the South of England as much as South Australia) in 1992, and had had mixed experiences with Sachin Tendulkar, Richie Richardson and Michael Bevan. Yet after a career short by the standards of Yorkshire legends, not even the most grudging of broad acre curmudgeons could have criticism for him, and he was duly included in a Yorkshire Post greatest ever XI, the native of Gawler standing tall alongside the likes of Geoffrey, Wilfred and Sir Leonard. Having fallen short of George Hirst's 100 year old record for the highest score by a Yorkshireman, his reaction was typical: "George was a better batsman than me anyway." For any other born outside Yorkshire to have made an attempt on the record would have been seen as heresy; yet for Lehmann, an exception would have been made. He had won over the hardest-to-please fans in the world, and for that alone he deserves his place in history.
Monday, 15 October 2007
A game in flux
Exits, farewells, downfalls. These have been the staple of one of the busiest ever years of international cricket, at the end of which it is hard to refute the suggestion that the generational shift which must occur in every cycle has come about, and that a mini golden-age has come to an end. Australia, as they have for the last decade or more, have led the way, both in terms of success and goodbyes. The Ashes whitewash and third consecutive World Cup title were epoch making, while the departure of Warne and McGrath marked the end for two of the supreme practitioners of their respective arts and the cessation of one of the greatest ever bowling partnerships. Other luminaries were denied the glorious ends which their careers and talent deserved; Brian Lara, his batting talent matched by none of his era and few of any, suffered a miserable denouement, a reflection on the decline of West Indies cricket over the course of his international career, which only his genius could transcend. Inzamam Ul Haq, who combined the lifestyle of a 1980s cricketer with the demands of a modern one and whose batting was a unique mixture of bulk and deft touch was given a contrived end to his 120 Test career, but fell 3 runs short of eclipsing Javed Miandad's record. The bell has also begun to toll for Shaun Pollock, dropped for the first time in 107 Tests and 12 years, while for Sanath Jayasuriya and Adam Gilchrist, an opening partnership which would grace any all-time ODI XI, 73 combined years of experience suggest the end is not too far off.
And it is not just great players who are on the way out. Captains have been on the merry-go-round, with India, Pakistan, New Zealand and England all under different leadership in at least one form of the game. Coaches too are in transit after a longish period of continuity: gone are Fletcher, Buchanan, Moody, Chappell and, tragically, Woolmer. In come Moores, Nielsen, Bayliss and Lawson. Household names none, reputations very much to be proved. Even the form of the game being played is under question, especially when one views the respective successes of the 50 and 20 over tournaments.
Perversely, it could be Australia who are hit hardest by the changing of the guard. Gone are Warne and McGrath, the magnitude and greatness of whose efforts cannot be explained ed or rationalised in words. The cold, harsh reality is that their two most consistent matchwinners are no longer available; include the retirement of opener Justin Langer, and it is well over 300 caps which have waltzed off into the sunset. Langer's position should be the easiest to fill, although the identity of his successor is open to question. One option is to promote the next opener in line, probably Phil Jaques. However, were they to reassign Mike Hussey to his original calling at the top of affairs, it would open up a middle order spot whose owner could be chosen from a larger pool, including Brad Hodge and the younger Hussey David. With Hayden probably looking no further than 2009, it might be a shrewd move to promote Hussey to the top, leaving at least one experienced hand when the second half of the modern game's greatest opening partnership calls it a day.
The composition of the bowling arsenal will spark much more debate and is the more vital issue. Warne and McGrath cannot be replaced in kind; the latter a once in a generation bowler, the former a once in a lifetime. But Australia do have formidable seam resources ready to fill the breach. Stuart Clark is at the forefront after a stupendously successful beginning to his Test career; he is not as much a McGrath clone as is generally claimed, but that does not stop him from being an extremely fine bowler, well capable of continuing to take lots of cheap wickets. Brett Lee will also have to make the step-up from support shock bowler to leading man, a role which previous experience has suggested he would be better served acting with guitar rather than ball in hand. If he struggles he could soon find himself cast aside, with his wonderbollocks reputation threatened on two fronts, gunslinger Shaun Tait and scourge of India Mitchell "magic" Johnson. English fans will have happy memories of Tait, who suffered when thrown in at the business end of the 2005 Ashes; his run-leaking spells and Kevin Pietersen's aerial assualt on his fine-leg boundary at The Oval are what will be boorishly recalled, although not to be forgotten the sort of delivery which sent Geraint Jones' off-stump on a walk long enough to warrant sponsorship for Sir Ian Botham's Leukemia Research. Less is known about Johnson, but he has turned in enough matchwinning performances in his short ODI career to put Dennis Lillee's much heralded comments about him in the valley of possibility. Alongside these sleek, flashy new motors is a relative tractor, Tasmanian brickie Ben Hilfenhaus. His state of origin may be less fashionable, the name lent less to an easy headline, but Hilfenhaus could well turn out to be the best of the bunch. His persistent outswing earned him 60 wickets last Australian season and his state Tasmania their maiden Championship, reward mostly achieved on the surfaces at the Bellerive Oval in Hobart, about the most unforgiving in the country.
And that is just the seamers. The question of who would replace Warne has been the most loaded in Australian cricket for a few years now, and still there is no heir apparent. And, conceivably, there will never be, not in this lifetime. Staurt MacGill will do a good job for a few years, or Bradd Hogg if the selectors' patience with MacGill's temperament has finally expired. But beyond the near future, no-one is poised to step into the breach. The two most likely are off-spinner Dan Cullen and leggie Cullen Bailey, both of South Australia, but neither has a particularly flattering First Class record. The simple truth is that bowling spin in Australia is an ever more difficult task, and that the Australian bowling attack will have to recalibrate itself to the setting of pace, with the spinner more an interlude than the symphony Warne continually produced.
Australia are not alone in experiencing a transitional phase. England may be seen by many as the second best Test side, but they have won no real series of note since 2005, victories against Pakistan and West Indies both mitigated by the weakness of the opposition. The attempt to meld the remaining Ashes winners with the new guard has produced a result which still shows the fissure-lines of its formation, and injuries and the absence of key players continues to drag them down. India defeated them away from home, a significant achievement, albeit with England's entire first-string bowling missing. However, the power trio of Tendulkar, Ganguly and Dravid have begun to look tired and out of place. A new Test captain is needed, while the one-day side has really suffered, defeated unexpectedly in England and thumped at home by Australia. Pakistan are similarly struggling to compete in the brave new world without Inzy and Shoaib, while Sri Lanka have glimpsed the future without Muralitharan and with Jayasuriya and Vaas struggling.
The uncertainty does bring some excitement to the international game, and the chance for the first time in a long time to challenge the Australian dominance. However, this will be well achieved; without Warne and McGrath they will win fewer games but defeating them will still be a formidable proposition. But, nevertheless, the new ingredients have been tossed into the melting pot, and it remains to be seen whether this heralds an exciting new dawn, or just longing for what has now been and gone.
And it is not just great players who are on the way out. Captains have been on the merry-go-round, with India, Pakistan, New Zealand and England all under different leadership in at least one form of the game. Coaches too are in transit after a longish period of continuity: gone are Fletcher, Buchanan, Moody, Chappell and, tragically, Woolmer. In come Moores, Nielsen, Bayliss and Lawson. Household names none, reputations very much to be proved. Even the form of the game being played is under question, especially when one views the respective successes of the 50 and 20 over tournaments.
Perversely, it could be Australia who are hit hardest by the changing of the guard. Gone are Warne and McGrath, the magnitude and greatness of whose efforts cannot be explained ed or rationalised in words. The cold, harsh reality is that their two most consistent matchwinners are no longer available; include the retirement of opener Justin Langer, and it is well over 300 caps which have waltzed off into the sunset. Langer's position should be the easiest to fill, although the identity of his successor is open to question. One option is to promote the next opener in line, probably Phil Jaques. However, were they to reassign Mike Hussey to his original calling at the top of affairs, it would open up a middle order spot whose owner could be chosen from a larger pool, including Brad Hodge and the younger Hussey David. With Hayden probably looking no further than 2009, it might be a shrewd move to promote Hussey to the top, leaving at least one experienced hand when the second half of the modern game's greatest opening partnership calls it a day.
The composition of the bowling arsenal will spark much more debate and is the more vital issue. Warne and McGrath cannot be replaced in kind; the latter a once in a generation bowler, the former a once in a lifetime. But Australia do have formidable seam resources ready to fill the breach. Stuart Clark is at the forefront after a stupendously successful beginning to his Test career; he is not as much a McGrath clone as is generally claimed, but that does not stop him from being an extremely fine bowler, well capable of continuing to take lots of cheap wickets. Brett Lee will also have to make the step-up from support shock bowler to leading man, a role which previous experience has suggested he would be better served acting with guitar rather than ball in hand. If he struggles he could soon find himself cast aside, with his wonderbollocks reputation threatened on two fronts, gunslinger Shaun Tait and scourge of India Mitchell "magic" Johnson. English fans will have happy memories of Tait, who suffered when thrown in at the business end of the 2005 Ashes; his run-leaking spells and Kevin Pietersen's aerial assualt on his fine-leg boundary at The Oval are what will be boorishly recalled, although not to be forgotten the sort of delivery which sent Geraint Jones' off-stump on a walk long enough to warrant sponsorship for Sir Ian Botham's Leukemia Research. Less is known about Johnson, but he has turned in enough matchwinning performances in his short ODI career to put Dennis Lillee's much heralded comments about him in the valley of possibility. Alongside these sleek, flashy new motors is a relative tractor, Tasmanian brickie Ben Hilfenhaus. His state of origin may be less fashionable, the name lent less to an easy headline, but Hilfenhaus could well turn out to be the best of the bunch. His persistent outswing earned him 60 wickets last Australian season and his state Tasmania their maiden Championship, reward mostly achieved on the surfaces at the Bellerive Oval in Hobart, about the most unforgiving in the country.
And that is just the seamers. The question of who would replace Warne has been the most loaded in Australian cricket for a few years now, and still there is no heir apparent. And, conceivably, there will never be, not in this lifetime. Staurt MacGill will do a good job for a few years, or Bradd Hogg if the selectors' patience with MacGill's temperament has finally expired. But beyond the near future, no-one is poised to step into the breach. The two most likely are off-spinner Dan Cullen and leggie Cullen Bailey, both of South Australia, but neither has a particularly flattering First Class record. The simple truth is that bowling spin in Australia is an ever more difficult task, and that the Australian bowling attack will have to recalibrate itself to the setting of pace, with the spinner more an interlude than the symphony Warne continually produced.
Australia are not alone in experiencing a transitional phase. England may be seen by many as the second best Test side, but they have won no real series of note since 2005, victories against Pakistan and West Indies both mitigated by the weakness of the opposition. The attempt to meld the remaining Ashes winners with the new guard has produced a result which still shows the fissure-lines of its formation, and injuries and the absence of key players continues to drag them down. India defeated them away from home, a significant achievement, albeit with England's entire first-string bowling missing. However, the power trio of Tendulkar, Ganguly and Dravid have begun to look tired and out of place. A new Test captain is needed, while the one-day side has really suffered, defeated unexpectedly in England and thumped at home by Australia. Pakistan are similarly struggling to compete in the brave new world without Inzy and Shoaib, while Sri Lanka have glimpsed the future without Muralitharan and with Jayasuriya and Vaas struggling.
The uncertainty does bring some excitement to the international game, and the chance for the first time in a long time to challenge the Australian dominance. However, this will be well achieved; without Warne and McGrath they will win fewer games but defeating them will still be a formidable proposition. But, nevertheless, the new ingredients have been tossed into the melting pot, and it remains to be seen whether this heralds an exciting new dawn, or just longing for what has now been and gone.
Thursday, 9 August 2007
Achievement within achievement
Hidden amongst the impassioned outpourings about England's loosening grip on a 6 year unbeaten run and the continuing rumbles about boorish sledging and jelly-bean related activities came another announcement. As with many of his greatest achievements in a distinguished international career, it was significant yet swamped under a mound of more trumpeted stories. The retirement of Ashley Giles from all cricket had been largely anticipated after a degenerative hip problem allowed him only two batches of two Tests following the 2005 Ashes had been largely anticipated and almost a decade after he made his Test debut alongside the likes of Atherton, Hussain, Knight and Fraser, he is now set to join them in the commentary and press boxes.
England's last two long-serving left-arm spinners were very much peas in a pod; highly talented, maverick, Middlesex men, Edmonds and Tufnell were the best slow bowlers of their time, but both managed to upset the establishment and were never firmly ensconced in the fold. Giles came as a polar opposite: less naturally gifted, his all round talents, steady slow left-arm supplemented by trenchant batting and safe-as houses gully fielding, found him favour in Duncan Fletcher's Team England. You wouldn't expect to find Giles relieving his boredom by reading a newspaper on the field, or being accused of smoking weed in a New Zealand cafe.
Another fact which differentiated Giles from his predecessors is that his career coincided with one of England's most successful periods in Test cricket for quite some time. And while that sentence seems fairly anonymous, in fact the wording of it is extremely loaded and is the nub of the argument which raged - boringly as do most sagas related to English cricket - throughout his 52 Test career. His detractors always argued that he was a passenger: untalented and utilised only to fill a hole in an otherwise seamless XI. The favourite paradigm of the naysayer was that he maintained his place only because there was no-one better, while he did little to fight their principal doubt regarding his effectiveness by pursuing a consistent over-the-wicket line of attack.
Yet a brief perusal of the greatest successes of that glory period, now seemingly at an end, reveals the name of Giles to be a constant recurrence at all the most important stages. The series victory in Pakistan seven years ago, the first major triumph of the Fletcher-Hussain axis, featured an impressive 17 wickets from the man in question, while his fellow spinner Ian Salisbury managed just 1 in the 3 Tests. And while the Karachi Test will be forever remembered for its dramatic conclusion, too easily forgotten is the the crucial contribution of Giles, namely dismissing the often immovable feast Inzamam with a peach of a delivery, the sort which he replicated several times in later years, pitching outside leg and spinning past the bat to hit off. This sparked a frenzied Pakistan collapse, paving the way for England's twilight run-chase after Mike Atherton's painstaking 9 hour century had given England first-innings parity.
As with every cricketer who played that summer, the 2005 Ashes was his crowning achievement, one which went not without his own significant influence. The reason why England will not win the Ashes is because while Australia have Shane Warne, England can only present Ashley Giles as their best spin option. That was the line most cognoscenti were trotting out while England were sweeping up each of the 7 Tests in the 2004 summer. If England could just find a really top-drawer spinner, they might have a chance. And the comparison between the two is somewhat stark: indeed Giles took exactly a quarter of Warne's monumental haul that summer, and in the previous home Ashes series, Simon Hughes became a laughing stock amongst his Channel 4 colleagues just for the intimation that Giles and Warne were similar, in that they turned the ball the same way. But England did not need Giles to be like Warne; granted, they would have gladly accepted a superior attacking leg-spinner, but Giles' role was markedly different from the Australian's. As for much of his career, he plugged away gamely at one end, restricting the scoring and creating pressure for the formidable pace attack to capitalise on. Bowlers, like batsmen, work in pairs, and while Giles may not have bagged so many scalps for his own collection, a measure of wickets he helped bring about at the other end would have him in healthy credit. And while Kevin Pietersen is rightly hailed as the hero of the hour at The Oval, acting as England's Horatius in the face of the Australian onslaught, the contribution of Giles, with a patient half-century, ensured absolute safety and the recapture of the urn. Yet again, he was playing a small yet important and ultimately overshadowed role in a major team triumph.
Between times, he showed himself more than capable of making some headlines of his own, capturing 22 wickets in the 4 match series against West Indies in 2004, including the wicket of Brian Lara memorably at Lord's, with one of his ripsnorting specials. But it was not always for his own success that Giles became front-page news. On a difficult tour of India in 2001, his bowling attack depleted, Nasser Hussain was forced to test the boundaries of his formidable inventiveness; part of this involved Giles eschewing the traditional left-arm spinner's line of attack and bowl over the wicket into the deep rough which had developed. It succeeded in locating a depth to the patience of Tedulkar, stumped for the first time in his career in an attempt to break the shackles. It also caused a hue and cry in the press and from some fans: Hussain fit the bill nicely as the villain of the piece, being probably the most determined English captain since Douglas Jardine, although the mob found it hard to place Giles as successor to Larwood. So they settled for calling him boring, bland and ineffective, a far easier pigeon hole to stuff him in
Quite where Giles truly fits in between the extremist summaries of the adoring and the atheists is hard to say. A bowling average in excess of 40 in a Test career which stretched beyond 50 games is a slight anomaly and betrays the truth that Giles was no exceptional bowler, barely even excellent. There were also occasions on which he was expected to perform in favourable conditions and failed, such as on the last day of the Old Trafford Ashes Test in 2005, where he erred constantly in both length and line and went wicketless. A batting mark of over 20 goes some way to explaining his durability, as does the continued assertion that he was a good team-man, something which is easy to discredit from the outside, but which was valued highly by his fellows.
England have been fortunate that the tailing off of Giles' career has coincided with the emergence of a greater bowling talent in Monty Panesar. Panesar is without doubt the better bowler; he imparts greater turn and is an equal of Giles in terms of control. Therefore the uproar which followed the senior man's selection for the first two Ashes Tests last winter was somewhat understandable. In the end, it helped nobody: Giles had not played any sort of cricket for a year, and had remodelled his action into an ungainly trot, a shadow of the formerly graceful wheeling approach, and indicative of his slide into sporting infirmity. Below his best, he managed just two wickets in as many games before he was forced to return home to care for his wife, suffering from a brain tumour. Sadly, the abiding memory of his tour will be the dropped catch off Ricky Ponting in the first innings at Adelaide, which time has shown was an excruciatingly costly miss. In a rather ironic reflection of his earlier career, England's fortunes spiralled with his own, just as they had flourished with him in the first part of the decade. And for a man derided as a passenger throughout his career, perhaps the greatest compliment that can now be paid is that England are struggling without him.
England's last two long-serving left-arm spinners were very much peas in a pod; highly talented, maverick, Middlesex men, Edmonds and Tufnell were the best slow bowlers of their time, but both managed to upset the establishment and were never firmly ensconced in the fold. Giles came as a polar opposite: less naturally gifted, his all round talents, steady slow left-arm supplemented by trenchant batting and safe-as houses gully fielding, found him favour in Duncan Fletcher's Team England. You wouldn't expect to find Giles relieving his boredom by reading a newspaper on the field, or being accused of smoking weed in a New Zealand cafe.
Another fact which differentiated Giles from his predecessors is that his career coincided with one of England's most successful periods in Test cricket for quite some time. And while that sentence seems fairly anonymous, in fact the wording of it is extremely loaded and is the nub of the argument which raged - boringly as do most sagas related to English cricket - throughout his 52 Test career. His detractors always argued that he was a passenger: untalented and utilised only to fill a hole in an otherwise seamless XI. The favourite paradigm of the naysayer was that he maintained his place only because there was no-one better, while he did little to fight their principal doubt regarding his effectiveness by pursuing a consistent over-the-wicket line of attack.
Yet a brief perusal of the greatest successes of that glory period, now seemingly at an end, reveals the name of Giles to be a constant recurrence at all the most important stages. The series victory in Pakistan seven years ago, the first major triumph of the Fletcher-Hussain axis, featured an impressive 17 wickets from the man in question, while his fellow spinner Ian Salisbury managed just 1 in the 3 Tests. And while the Karachi Test will be forever remembered for its dramatic conclusion, too easily forgotten is the the crucial contribution of Giles, namely dismissing the often immovable feast Inzamam with a peach of a delivery, the sort which he replicated several times in later years, pitching outside leg and spinning past the bat to hit off. This sparked a frenzied Pakistan collapse, paving the way for England's twilight run-chase after Mike Atherton's painstaking 9 hour century had given England first-innings parity.
As with every cricketer who played that summer, the 2005 Ashes was his crowning achievement, one which went not without his own significant influence. The reason why England will not win the Ashes is because while Australia have Shane Warne, England can only present Ashley Giles as their best spin option. That was the line most cognoscenti were trotting out while England were sweeping up each of the 7 Tests in the 2004 summer. If England could just find a really top-drawer spinner, they might have a chance. And the comparison between the two is somewhat stark: indeed Giles took exactly a quarter of Warne's monumental haul that summer, and in the previous home Ashes series, Simon Hughes became a laughing stock amongst his Channel 4 colleagues just for the intimation that Giles and Warne were similar, in that they turned the ball the same way. But England did not need Giles to be like Warne; granted, they would have gladly accepted a superior attacking leg-spinner, but Giles' role was markedly different from the Australian's. As for much of his career, he plugged away gamely at one end, restricting the scoring and creating pressure for the formidable pace attack to capitalise on. Bowlers, like batsmen, work in pairs, and while Giles may not have bagged so many scalps for his own collection, a measure of wickets he helped bring about at the other end would have him in healthy credit. And while Kevin Pietersen is rightly hailed as the hero of the hour at The Oval, acting as England's Horatius in the face of the Australian onslaught, the contribution of Giles, with a patient half-century, ensured absolute safety and the recapture of the urn. Yet again, he was playing a small yet important and ultimately overshadowed role in a major team triumph.
Between times, he showed himself more than capable of making some headlines of his own, capturing 22 wickets in the 4 match series against West Indies in 2004, including the wicket of Brian Lara memorably at Lord's, with one of his ripsnorting specials. But it was not always for his own success that Giles became front-page news. On a difficult tour of India in 2001, his bowling attack depleted, Nasser Hussain was forced to test the boundaries of his formidable inventiveness; part of this involved Giles eschewing the traditional left-arm spinner's line of attack and bowl over the wicket into the deep rough which had developed. It succeeded in locating a depth to the patience of Tedulkar, stumped for the first time in his career in an attempt to break the shackles. It also caused a hue and cry in the press and from some fans: Hussain fit the bill nicely as the villain of the piece, being probably the most determined English captain since Douglas Jardine, although the mob found it hard to place Giles as successor to Larwood. So they settled for calling him boring, bland and ineffective, a far easier pigeon hole to stuff him in
Quite where Giles truly fits in between the extremist summaries of the adoring and the atheists is hard to say. A bowling average in excess of 40 in a Test career which stretched beyond 50 games is a slight anomaly and betrays the truth that Giles was no exceptional bowler, barely even excellent. There were also occasions on which he was expected to perform in favourable conditions and failed, such as on the last day of the Old Trafford Ashes Test in 2005, where he erred constantly in both length and line and went wicketless. A batting mark of over 20 goes some way to explaining his durability, as does the continued assertion that he was a good team-man, something which is easy to discredit from the outside, but which was valued highly by his fellows.
England have been fortunate that the tailing off of Giles' career has coincided with the emergence of a greater bowling talent in Monty Panesar. Panesar is without doubt the better bowler; he imparts greater turn and is an equal of Giles in terms of control. Therefore the uproar which followed the senior man's selection for the first two Ashes Tests last winter was somewhat understandable. In the end, it helped nobody: Giles had not played any sort of cricket for a year, and had remodelled his action into an ungainly trot, a shadow of the formerly graceful wheeling approach, and indicative of his slide into sporting infirmity. Below his best, he managed just two wickets in as many games before he was forced to return home to care for his wife, suffering from a brain tumour. Sadly, the abiding memory of his tour will be the dropped catch off Ricky Ponting in the first innings at Adelaide, which time has shown was an excruciatingly costly miss. In a rather ironic reflection of his earlier career, England's fortunes spiralled with his own, just as they had flourished with him in the first part of the decade. And for a man derided as a passenger throughout his career, perhaps the greatest compliment that can now be paid is that England are struggling without him.
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