The regular Monday column in which Steven Lynch answers your questions about (almost) any aspect of cricket:

Steven Lynch08-Jan-2007The regular Monday column in which Steven Lynch answers your questions about (almost) any aspect of cricket:

The victor and the vanquished – Warwick Armstrong and Johnny Douglas © The Cricketer International
We’ve heard a lot about this embarrassing 5-0 “whitewash” that England have suffered. But how often has it happened in Tests? asked Daniel Robertson from Coventry
As nearly everyone has written, this was the first 5-0 result in an Ashes series since 1920-21, when Warwick Armstrong’s powerful Australian side overwhelmed England, captained by Johnny Douglas, in the first series after the First World War. Rather like Andrew Flintoff, Douglas was something of a stand-in captain: the Lancashire amateur Reggie Spooner was the original choice, but withdrew for personal reasons. The next five-Test whitewash was also in Australia, in 1931-32, when South Africa were the sufferers. Since then India have lost all five Tests in England (1959) and West Indies (1961-62); England lost all five Tests to West Indies in 1984 – the only instance a home side has been blanked – and in the Caribbean in 1985-86 (David Gower became the only captain to be whitewashed twice); and West Indies lost all five Tests in South Africa (1998-99) and Australia (2000-01). For a full list of whitewashes, including four-, three- and two-Test series, click here.Andrew Flintoff’s problems as captain bring to mind another great England allrounder in Ian Botham. What was his captaincy record? asked Steve Durrant from Worcester
Ian Botham captained England in 12 Test matches, and didn’t win any of them – four were lost and eight drawn. The first ten were all against West Indies, the strongest team of the period, and since Botham emerged with seven draws from those it’s possible that his captaincy skills have been under-estimated over the years (as mentioned above, David Gower captained in ten Tests against the Windies and lost the lot). Botham also skippered in two Tests against Australia in 1981, resigning shortly before he was sacked – and famously returned to form to win that Ashes series almost single-handedly under Mike Brearley’s leadership. Andrew Flintoff has now skippered in 11 Tests, and has two wins and two draws to go with seven defeats.There were loads of books published after the 2005 Ashes series. How many will there be this time? And was there a book about the previous Ashes whitewash, in 1920-21? asked Ken Baldwin from Reading
You’re right: there were at least 15 books published after the 2005 Ashes series, which threatened the record set after Len Hutton’s Ashes victory in 1954-55. Several were planned for this series – by the well-known Ashes authors David Frith and Gideon Haigh, to name but two – and most of those will go ahead, as the agreements would have been signed before the series. I can’t imagine the UK sales will be quite as high as for the 2005 books though! I’m only aware of one tour account of the 1920-21 Ashes series, and it will set you back quite a lot of money if you can track it down: the former Surrey captain Percy Fender, a member of the England team, wrote a book called Defending the Ashes which was published by Chapman & Hall. The last one I saw advertised would have cost well over £100.Is Mark Benson the only current international umpire who also played in Tests? asked Mark Davidson from Tunbridge Wells
Kent’s Mark Benson, who won one cap for England against India at Edgbastonin 1986, is the only current member of the ICC’s elite panel of umpires – from which most of the Test appointments are made – who also played Test cricket. However, the international panel (the next rung down from the elite list) includes Asoka de Silva, the former Sri Lankan legspinner who won ten Test caps, and a pair of slow left-armers: Bangladesh’s Enamul Haque, who also played ten Tests, and Nadeem Ghauri, who played one Test for Pakistan in 1989-90. Asoka de Silva has stood in 33 Tests, the most recent being the match between Pakistan and West Indies at Lahore in November 2006, and Nadeem Ghauri in five. Enamul Haque is still awaiting his Test umpiring debut, although he has stood in one-day internationals.Is it true that Milkha Singh, the famous Indian athlete, also played Test cricket? asked Anuj Chauhan from the United States
AG Milkha Singh was a talented batsman from Madras who played four Tests for India in 1960 and 1961, all before he had turned 21. He continued in the Ranji Trophy until 1968-69, finishing with eight centuries and a batting average of 35.44, with a highest score of 151 for South Zone in 1961-62. However, as far as I am aware he is not related to the Indian athlete Milkha Singh (born 1935), who just missed out on a medal in the Rome Olympics, when he finished fourth in the 400 metres.Jacques Kallis has scored seven Test centuries against West Indies – has anyone ever made more? asked Jean-Pierre de Rosnay
Jacques Kallis has indeed scored seven Test hundreds against West Indies, equalling the number made by Steve Waugh and Mohammad Yousuf. But they are all a long way behind the record-holder – Sunil Gavaskar, whose 2749 runs against them at an average of 65.45, including an amazing 13 centuries. For a full list of the leading Test century-makers, with a country-by-country breakdown, click here. Steven Lynch’s new book, The Cricinfo Guide to International Cricket 2007, is out now. Click here for more details, or here for our review.

Before today, it had been over 17 months, 10 Tests and 17 innings – the longest interval in terms of chances to bat – since Sachin Tendulkar’s last Test century

Sidharth Monga in Chittagong19-May-2007

“After 17 years, I don’t think I have a point to prove,” Sachin Tendulkar said at the end of a rain-marred second day at Chittagong. He may just be wrong. Before today, it had been over 17 months, 10 Tests and 17 innings – the longest interval in terms of chances to bat – since his last Test century, against Sri Lanka at New Delhi. His highest score in that duration was 64. Tendulkar also missed a full tour of the West Indies due to injury last summer. The critics sharpened their knives with each passing day, and then Tendulkar, who has always been boyishly enthusiastic for cricket, was “rested” for the one-day leg of this tour.Today, in a brief spell of play, Tendulkar reached his 36th Test century, and it was more than just another addition to his burgeoning numbers. The lack of runs in the recent past made this effort more special, but there was another reason which gave it more meaning – he started this innings yesterday, exactly eight years from the day his father, Ramesh Tendulkar, died when his son was playing in the 1999 World Cup in England. “I would dedicate this to my father,” Tendulkar said, “as it was his eighth death anniversary yesterday. So, this one was pretty emotional.” Tendulkar had dedicated his last century to his father as well; clearly he misses him a lot. He had been criticised for plenty of things throughout his illustrious career, some fair, some unreasonable. What he can’t be faulted for, surely, is his timing.Was it difficult to come back after the way India were grilled after a dismal World Cup? “We were disappointed at not having played well at the World Cup,” Tendulkar said. “People’s demonstrations didn’t matter. It was a huge disappointment [to have done badly at the World Cup], but whatever else happened didn’t matter.”Tendulkar has also been criticised in the past for going slow when the team needed quick runs to push for a result. When he came in yesterday, and saw Rahul Dravid get out soon after, he and Sourav Ganguly had a mini crisis on their hands. India were playing only five specialist batsmen, of which they were the last two, and there were only 132 runs on the board. The pitch was flat and the bowlers needed all the time to take 20 wickets here, so going slow to consolidate would not have been the best option.But Tendulkar and Ganguly, who scored his 13th Test century today, paced their innings perfectly – consolidating and yet scoring at a brisk rate. Tendulkar had words of praise for his partner, with whom he forged together perhaps the best opening combination in ODI history. “It’s always a pleasure to bat with him [Ganguly],” said Tendulkar. “We have been together for so many years now. Sourav is a wonderful player. He knows how to make runs and pace his innings. We had fun in the middle. We tried to keep each other going. The conditions were tough, [but] you have to encourage each other.”That the two gave their wickets away immediately after reaching their hundreds suggested the advantage had been squandered somewhat, but their 189-run stand has given India the opportunity to post a significant first-innings total. The focus now shifts to the bowlers, and, of course, the weather.

A picture is worth a thousand words, especially when it has been sourced and selected as exquisitely as those in Boria Majumdar’s superb 256-page magnum opus, The Illustrated History of Indian Cricket.

Andrew Miller04-Nov-2006The Illustrated History of Indian Cricket Boria Majumdar (Tempus Publishing, 256pp) £8.99

© Tempus Publishing Ltd
A picture is worth a thousand words, especially when it has been sourced and selected as exquisitely as those in Boria Majumdar’s superb 256-page magnum opus, The Illustrated History of Indian Cricket. This is an extraordinary work of scholarship masquerading as a coffee-table flick-book. A sticky-dog century condensed to a ten-over slog, yet somehow retaining the virtues of each.A Rhodes Scholar and fellow of Latrobe University, Melbourne, Majumdar is a man with a doctorate in cricket, a fact that must place him among the most envied men in the subcontinent. He has already published a much weightier tome on his specialist subject, the , but this time he has decided to convey the same gravitas as succinctly as possible. His fellow dons might sniff at such a populist approach and accuse him of dumbing down, but not a bit of it. What is cricket, after all, if it is not, first and foremost, a game to be enjoyed?Well, in fact, it is several things, as a billion people know and proclaim loudly every time India takes the field of play. It is a quasi-religion and an instrument of social change. It is secularism and tolerance, a voice for the voiceless, and an inspiration to a vast and diverse nation in search of an identity. It’s not a topic to be addressed lightly, in other words. The paradox of this erudite yet accessible book mirrors the paradox of the Indian game, and in doing so, helps in some small way to demystify it.”The land of contrasts” is how India tends to be described in glib travel-agent’s blurbs, and in the wrong hands, The Illustrated History of Indian Cricket could have ended up as something similar – a colourful jumble of unrelated events, cynically compiled to sell a certain viewpoint. But Majumdar avoids such traps with a thrilling array of photographs, some of which have never before been seen in print, underscored by a prose style that is patient but never patronising.Decade by decade, he traces the development of the Indian game, from its earliest colonial origins right up until the end of England’s Test tour this March. A fascinating match report from 1845, just one of a plethora of original documents that Majumdar has unearthed, tells of a scratch game involving Bengali sepoys in the garrisons of Sylhet – “The most enthusiastic European cricketers could not have played with more energy and cheerfulness,” waxes an enraptured scribe, unwittingly capturing the origins of a modern-day obsession.The source documents are arguably the book’s most compelling feature, as the book’s glossy lay-out lends itself to private investigation of historical gems, such as the bewildered newspaper cuttings from All-India’s maiden tour of England in 1932, when Holmes, Sutcliffe and Woolley were skittled on the first morning of the Lord’s Test, or Thomas Moult’s whimsical bulletin four years later, lamenting India’s collapse to 147 – “What miserable news it must have been to the cricket-lovers in Bombay and Calcutta who are taking Indian cricket so much to heart”.Understandably, India’s love-hate relationship with the British is a principle theme of the book, but this is more than just a rags to riches, Lagaan-style awakening. The highs and lows are faithfully documented throughout, from the factions that ripped through the 1946 tour of England (reported first-hand by Mushtaq Ali in a fascinating handwritten letter to his mentor CK Nayudu), to the conquering of Lord’s in the 1983 World Cup final and again, 19 years later, in a memorable NatWest Series final.A picture really is worth a thousand words. By the end of the book, it is entrancing simply to flick from the earliest sepia stills to the latest logo-emblazoned photoshoots and marvel at the scale of this transformation. Majumdar’s narrative joins the dots as he describes the power-shift that has turned South Asia into the powerhouse of the game, acknowledging that corruption, politics and dirty-money deals are sadly a part of the process. The match-fixing scandal, he concedes, has left “a dark doubt … fester[ing] in some corner of the Indian cricket fan’s mind”. And yet, “Indians buy more motorcycles and soft drinks and widgets than any other population on the planet just because their cricketers tell them to.””No hyperbole is sufficient to capture the importance of cricket in country’s national life,” he concludes. And the evidence he presents in support of this statement is overwhelming.Click here to buy

Selectors will tell you that he was a player who could toy with domestic attacks but struggle at a higher level. Sridharan Sharath respects their judgment; all he wished for was a fair trial

Siddhartha Vaidyanathan in Chennai13-Jan-2007

c Martin b Bhoite 0. Seven balls, thirteen minutes, offbreak padded away, bat nowhere in the picture, umpire raises finger, end of a 15-year career. It wasn’t the best way to bid adieu, but it was probably the most symbolic. For nearly a minute, Sridharan Sharath stood transfixed, glaring at the umpire and repeated a question that’s haunted him through his career: ‘What did I do to deserve that?’Just five were needed for victory, one that would ensure that Tamil Nadu, pitted against Baroda at Chennai, escaped the ignominy of relegation. It made for an ideal script – Sharath, a rock-solid presence in the side for the last decade and a half walks in, calms the nerves, shrugs off the mini-collapse and guides Tamil Nadu home. The early signals were promising: he judged the devilish pitch and was comfortably negotiating the vicious turn. But it took one dubious decision, one fatal error of judgment that ruined the plan.At the end of the game, one where Tamil Nadu scampered home, Sharath didn’t hide his displeasure at the decision; yet he wasn’t willing to dwell too much on it. He’d turned up for the last time in a first-class game – his 102nd match for Tamil Nadu – and he wished to savour the moment.”I’d like to be remembered as someone who was consistent, someone who never let his team down,” he told Cricinfo. Surrounded by a few admirers who reminisced about his fine innings, he looked back on a career where he proved himself to be a domestic giant, yet never got the chances at the higher level. “It was tough being an Indian middle-order batsman in the last decade. We had so much of talent – Rahul Dravid, VVS Laxman, Sachin Tendulkar, Sourav Ganguly, Mohammad Azharuddin, Vinod Kambli – that the competition for spots was too intense. I was not as talented a player as any of those I’ve mentioned but I think I had the scores to get a few more chances.”Sharath wasn’t as flamboyant as few of the names he’d mentioned but mastered the art of putting runs on the board. He didn’t possess an immaculate technique, was disproportionately built – with clumps jutting out at the waist – and made batting look like hard work. In many ways he was Indian domestic cricket’s Arjuna Ranatunga – the man for a crisis, the cool head under pressure, the hardworking artisan in a side packed with artists. But what an artisan!For 15 seasons since 1992, he had amassed 8390 runs at an average close to 52. In seven seasons he’d averaged more than 50 – most first-class cricketers would be delighted with two or three – and acted as the cement in a talented but fickle middle order.Sharath will probably look back at three games where he missed out – the tour game against the South Africans in 1996, when he managed 26, the tour game against the visiting Sri Lankans the next year, when he fell for a duck, and the Irani Trophy against Karnataka in 1998, when he endured another 26. Selectors will tell you that he was a player who could toy with domestic attacks but struggle at a higher level. Sharath respects their judgment; all he wished for was a fair trial. “It was always a case of one match, one innings. It’s very tough for a player to go into a game knowing it might be his last chance. Even a player of the quality of Dravid took 14 innings before he notched up a Duleep Trophy hundred. It’s not easy, people must realise.”I think I deserved a few more A tours. That was what really shocked me – I might have not been good enough for internationals but I cannot accept the fact that I wasn’t good enough for India A. I’m happy I could contribute for Tamil Nadu, though I couldn’t manage a Ranji Trophy title. It’s nice to see talent coming through and there’s no point in hanging around much longer. I also want to spend some time with my newly-born daughter.”A veteran scorer at TNCA – Shankara Subramanium – once christened a spot in the old press box at the Chidamabaram Stadium as ‘Sharath’s corner’. He’d insisted on sitting there and scoring when Sharath walked in, convinced that his shift played a role in Sharath’s big knocks. Sharath’s corner will be vacant from tomorrow but Subramanium will have no regrets. Because Sharath did enough and much more. His legacy will live on.

In the first part of our investigation into cricket inside Zimbabwe, a look at what’s happening in the schools

Steven Price03-Feb-2008
Yuvraj Singh jogs with a local child during India’s tour of Zimbabwe in 2005 © Getty Images
Finding out what is happening in any walk of life inside Zimbabwe is getting harder by the day, and cricket is no exception. Foreign journalists are rarely permitted to enter the country, and few local reporters are still working – those that remain write for outlets vigorously policed by the state.The only exposure cricket gets is when the national side plays. Outside that, the government-controlled Herald newspaper covers some local matches, but more often than not its reports are provided by Zimbabwe Cricket (ZC).In the aftermath of the World Cup, it was well publicised that Zimbabwe received approximately US$ 11 million from the ICC, and questions were inevitably raised as to how that sum was being spent, given the relatively few matches played by the team – they remain in self-imposed suspension from Test cricket – and the small number of players inside the country.The board, and Peter Chingoka, its chairman, countered the queries with bullish rhetoric about the state of school and club cricket and the investment being made in those areas. But for all the confident talk there remained rumours all was not well, and so I decided to find out for myself.I started at the bottom, schools cricket. Historically, private schools have provided the core of Zimbabwe’s provincial and national players – Chingoka himself was educated at the prestigious St George’s College – and given the money they have been able to spend on basics such as grounds and equipment, that was not surprising.The story in many of the schools was surprisingly good. “All the traditional junior and high schools are still playing cricket and the structures still seem to be there,” one administrator told me. “All the age groups are still running.” There was also good news among the government schools in high-density areas, where some were lucky enough to have ZC-funded coaches and many were still playing competitive cricket.But there were claims that the distribution was not necessarily even. “Many school grounds are not being used due to the high cost of maintaining the facilities,” one local player/coach admitted. “Only a few selected schools who are prepared to toe the line get funding from ZC for tractors and mowers to cut the outfields.”The increasing lack of good coaches is a growing problem, and one that is affecting even the private schools. “The current teachers require a second income to survive and can’t afford the time to coach in the afternoons,” said one former Test cricketer who helps out when he can. “It’s been a pleasure coaching a young side that is so keen, but without an experienced coach who has played the game at some level, how is any sport going to grow in this country?”The other big difference between government and private schools is equipment, which has always been scarce but now, as the economic crisis worsens, has become almost impossible to get hold of without foreign currency. Kit is shared between players – sides often have only one or two bats between them – and there are also growing issues with maintaining anything approaching reasonable surfaces for them to play on. Parents desire to have their children involved in the game, but then with the spiralling cost of basics such as food, transport, and school fees, cricket isn’t one of the priorities To its credit, ZC has a scholarship programme that enables talented players at junior schools to be sent to traditional cricket-playing private schools, such as Prince Edward School, Churchill Boys High School, and Milton High School. Exact numbers are hard to obtain but one master reckoned that at any one time there were around 25 boys on the scheme. Several of the current national side – for example, Tatenda Taibu, Hamilton Masakadza, Stuart Matsikenyeri, Chamu Chibhabha, Elton Chigumbura and Vusi Sibanda – have benefited from this programme.The downside is that the Zimbabwe Academy, which Chingoka recently claimed was operational and which takes in “youngsters between the ages of 17 and 23″, does not appear to have had an intake for at least two years. The buildings were burned down in late 2006, though the practice facilities remain.Outside Harare the picture is gloomier, and the lack of players means that many schoolboys are fast-tracked into senior sides, purely to keep the clubs functioning. In Manicaland it is estimated that as many as three quarters of those playing for clubs are still at school.”There’s just a little bit going on as there are only two schools that had a cricket culture on the school curriculum,” a local player said. Although he said there were attempts to spread the game, it was failing through a lack of investment. “Equipment for those taking up the game should be made available free, which isn’t happening,” he said. “The parents desire to have their children involved in the game, but then with the spiralling cost of basics such as food, transport, and school fees, cricket isn’t one of the priorities.”
Harare schoolchildren play an impromptu game © Getty Images
In Matabeleland, the private schools, such as Falcon College outside Bulawayo, still function. “The standard of play at school level is good … it’s really competitive,” one local said. “I know at High School they play two-day cricket, which is good in preparing the boys for the longer version of the game.” But outside the elite institutions things are not as rosy, and the coaching is a problem. “The board has got coaches at some of the schools in Bulawayo … but not all of them because many of them have left for South Africa. The private schools do have their own full-time coaches who are qualified enough.”What is of concern, and an observation that kept cropping up, is the perception that standards have fallen markedly in the last five years, a natural knock-on of deteriorating facilities, and as one headmaster told me, of the fact that for an increasing number of Zimbabweans survival is the priority and not sport. And only this week the United Nations reported that an increasing number of teachers are deserting their schools as they have not been paid.”Once they leave school they are on their own to fend for themselves. After school one has to get a job immediately to cope with inflation,” a coach said. “Half of them end up working and can’t afford the time to play cricket.”The falling standards in the schools and the drop in the numbers of those who continue to play the game is having an impact. One source close to the Under-19 side stated that man for man, the current side is weaker than the one that did so well at the 2006 U-19 World Cup, and that is also reflected across the age groups. Given that many of the current full side have come from the U-19s in the last two or three years, that more than anything should concern the administrators.Clearly, there is little ZC can do about the general malaise, but it does seem to be offering support where it can. There is a suspicion that Harare is much better catered for than some of the other centres; ZC would counter that the bulk of cricket is played there. It’s a chicken-and-egg situation.What is heartening is that despite all the hardships, cricket in schools is surviving, and that offers some hope for the future. The worry is that maintaining the structures gets harder with every passing day.Next week: Club cricket in Zimbabwe

Captains keeping and scoring hundreds; and most runs scored in the first and last 10 overs

Steven Lynch09-Oct-2007The regular Tuesday column in which Steven Lynch answers your questions about (almost) any aspect of cricket.

Both captains in the first two ODIs between India and Australia were wicketkeepers. How often has this happened in international cricket? asked Sriram from the United States, and many others
Last week’s games involving Mahendra Singh Dhoni and Adam Gilchrist were the 11th and 12th occasions in ODIs in which both captains were wicketkeepers. The first three were in 1995-96, when the rival captains in the New Zealand-Zimbabwe series were Lee Germon and Andy Flower, and Flower was half of the equation on the next four occasions too, all of them in 2000 – twice against Pakistan (captained by Moin Khan) and twice in England (captained by Alec Stewart). The last three instances came in the Bangladesh-West Indies series late in 2002, when Khaled Mashud faced Ridley Jacobs in three matches. There have been only five Test matches in which both sides were captained by their wicketkeeper: two involving Germon and Flower in New Zealand in 1995-96, and two involving Mashud and Jacobs in 2002-03. The other instance was also in 2002-03, when Mark Boucher stood in as South Africa’s captain against Bangladesh (led by Mashud) in East London.In a recent ODI between Zimbabwe and South Africa, both wicketkeepers scored centuries. Has this happened before? asked Hans Eric Paree from the Netherlands
That match in Harare was only the second time both wicketkeepers had scored centuries in the same ODI. The first one was the game between India and Sri Lanka in Jaipur in 2005-06, when Dhoni answered Kumar Sangakkara’s ton with an amazing 183 not out.I was stumped by a quiz question recently: which record was set in the very first Test of all, and still stands? asked Vijay Bhosle from Kolkata
The record set in the inaugural Test match, in Melbourne in 1876-77, that still stands concerns the highest percentage of runs scored by an individual player in a completed innings. Charles Bannerman, who scored the first run and went on to the first century in Test cricket, retired hurt with 165 towards the end of Australia’s innings of 245, which represents 67.35% of the total. More than 130 years later, that percentage has never been beaten: the closest was by another Australian opener, Michael Slater, with 123 out of 184 (66.85%) against England in Sydney in 1998-99. In all, 14 batsmen have made more than 60% of the runs in a completed innings of a Test.

What’s the highest score in Tests by a right-hander? asked Tom Bowman from Canterbury
That record changed hands last year after belonging to England’s Len Hutton (364 against Australia at The Oval) since 1938. The man who broke it was Sri Lanka’s captain Mahela Jayawardene, who made 374 against South Africa in Colombo, in the match in which he and Sangakkara broke the world record for any partnership with a stand of 624 for the third wicket. Of the top seven individual scores in Tests, five have been by left-handers – Brian Lara’s 400 not out and 375, Matthew Hayden’s 380, Garry Sobers’ undefeated 365, and Sanath Jayasuriya’s 340.Which team holds the record for hitting the most runs in the first ten overs, and which team has made the most in the last ten? asked Sandeep from India
We can’t be definitive here, as we are missing a lot of the over-by-over scores – particularly from Sri Lanka’s record score of 443 for 7 against Holland in Amstelveen in 2006, which obviously must have seen some very quick scoring – but Cricinfo’s own Travis Basevi, the man who built Statsguru, has dug out two instances which it would be hard to better. When Sri Lanka beat England at Headingley in 2006, they had reached 133 for 0 after 10 overs. And when New Zealand slaughtered the United States at The Oval during the 2004 Champions Trophy, they scored 142 (for the loss of two wickets) in the last 10 overs, including an amazing 110 runs in the last five.Whose autobiography was called I’ll Spin You a Tale? asked Robin Ritchie from Cambridge
This was Eric Hollies, the Warwickshire and England legspinner, whose life story was published by the Museum Press in 1955. Hollies had an unusual career: he played his first three Tests on tour in the West Indies in 1934-35, then (not helped by the War) didn’t win another cap for more than 12 years, at the end of which he was recalled to play South Africa in 1947 and took 5 for 123 in his first innings back, at Trent Bridge. But Hollies made his indelible mark on Test history the following year, at The Oval in 1948, when he bowled Don Bradman for a duck in his final Test innings, when Bradman needed just four runs to finish with a Test average of 100. Hollies took 44 wickets in 13 Tests in all, at an average of 30.27. A famously inept batsman, he ended up with many more first-class wickets (2323) than runs (1673) in his long career, which stretched from 1932 to 1957. He died in 1981.

From just another item of kit to an emblem of Australian excellence – the baggy green cap has come a long way

Gideon Haigh16-Jun-2008

You ratty beauty: the cult of the baggy green grew immeasurably under Steve Waugh, but his own cap was a famously distressed-looking specimen © Getty Images
Twenty years ago, when somebody at an auction bought the baggy green in which Clarrie Grimmett played the Bodyline series, for A$1200, it probably seemed a lot of money. “You spent what?” you can hear his wife saying. “On a cap?” Pleas that it was an “investment” would hardly have placated her – why, the damn thing wasn’t even fashionable.Twenty years later, one can only dip one’s own metaphorical lid. The 121 caps sold at auction since have fetched an average $17,254, and selling that Grimmett green would knock a fair dint in any family’s school fees. Particular windfalls have awaited custodians of Don Bradman baggies: five have fetched an average $160,000.In Bowral last Friday night the Bradman Museum hosted a function to celebrate that capital appreciation, and also to ponder its meanings. An audience of 200 heard Mark Taylor speak in honour of an excellent new book, , a joint project of memorabilia entrepreneur Michael Fahey and veteran cricket writer Mike Coward, and a fascinating exhibition grouping 28 caps, no two of which are alike. For a symbol so storied, the Australian cap has been subject to relatively little historical inquiry; this book and exhibition fill the gap both snugly and appealingly.Taylor, who is shaping steadily and surely as the next chairman of Cricket Australia, introduced himself cheerfully as a “cap tragic”, sharing some samples from his collection of 100, including the distinctive headgear of the Lake Albert CC from Wagga Wagga, and of the Riverina Secondary Schools Sports Association, to illustrate his point that a cap is a repository of memories, of games and places and people. He is well placed to testify: Fahey and Coward speculate that he is one of only two 100-Test veterans to have played their whole career in the one cap. Justin Langer, to whom the cap was as his blanket to Linus, is the other.Two other Australian captains, Brian Booth and Ian Craig, and former Test men Gordon Rorke, Grahame Thomas and Greg Matthews chimed in with their own reflections. Having consulted his diary of the journey, Booth was able to report that he was presented with his cap in the Launceston hotel room of Australian team manager Sydney Webb QC on 14 March 1961. “It’s a bit hard to remember back that far,” he commented. “I did well to remember to come along tonight.”In interviewing 45 past and present Australian players, however, Coward has refreshed the memories of others. Ian Chappell, for instance, divulges the origin of his habit of removing his cap while on the way back to pavilion: the experience of having his headgear snatched at the Wanderers in February 1970 as he ascended the steps. A couple of years ago, he adds, he met the cap’s current Zimbabwean owner. “You’re not the bastard who took it off my head?” Chappell asked. “No,” came the reply. “But I might have bought it from the bloke who did!” At current exchange rates, it is probably worth 500 billion Zimbabwean dollars. Hitherto there has been a synergy between the advance of the baggy green cult and the rise of the players as commercial commodities. But is the time coming when the cap will be a brand in competition with the players’ , restricting their commercial freedom, scrambling their individual messages? The exhibition, meanwhile, is comfortably the most complete of its kind, gathering caps as antique as Victor Trumper’s, as recent as Adam Gilchrist’s and as ugly as Tony Dodemaide’s from the Bicentennial Test 20 years ago – a white cap ribboned in green which looks better suited to a Dairy Queen dispensary. The exhibition, brainchild of the industrious cricket collector and publisher Ron Cardwell, gives the lie to the idea of the cap’s precise historical continuity, while actually making it a richer historical artefact.This is overdue. In his speech, Fahey described the baggy green, rather artfully, as “an icon and a sacred cow”. For despite the fashion for lachrymose expressions of loyalty to it, the cap belongs less to the world of antiquity than to the realm of what Eric Hobsbawm called “invented tradition”: a set of practices which “seek to inculcate certain values and norms of behaviour by repetition, which automatically implies continuity with the past”. So it is that faithfully reports the evolution not just of the symbol but of the reverence inhering in it – to the extent where, under Steve Waugh, it became like the Round Table to Australian cricket’s Camelot.We learn not only of the rituals established by recent Australian XIs – the numbers, the tattoos, the corroborees – but those indulged in by their forebears. “In my day, they were just caps and flung into our bags,” Bill Brown muses; like his fellow Invincibles Sir Donald Bradman and Arthur Morris, he gave all his away. Neither Richie Benaud nor Ian Chappell owns a cap between them. “I don’t ever remember having one discussion about the cap during my playing days,” Chappell insists. His contemporary John Inverarity, in fact, recalls an apathy about the cap that occasionally shaded into hostility. When he donned a baggy for the traditional Duchess of Norfolk’s XI game at Arundel, he found he was the only player wearing it. “I felt a little self-conscious,” he recalls, “but felt I wasn’t in a position to share that thought for it was a little too earnest or conscientious.”It’s not as though the players’ elders taught them much differently either. Ken Eastwood recounts how before his Test debut in February 1971 he was asked to try on caps by Australian Cricket Board secretary Alan Barnes. The first one didn’t fit; the second did; he was allowed to keep both, thus obtaining the unique record of one Test for two caps. Similarly, veteran administrator Bob Merriman recalls Barnes scattering caps among the team on its way to tour India almost 30 years ago “as though he was delivering newspapers from a moving vehicle”. No wonder then that when Len Pascoe found a mislaid cap in an Australian dressing room at Lord’s during his career, nobody claimed it.These brisk and practical reflections are seasoned with some regrets – Doug Walters laments not having worn his more often – and some surprising differences of opinion. Incongruously, Steve Waugh comes in for as much blame as praise, especially his consecration of a cap in what, had it been a fashion accessory, would have been described as “distressed felt”. Waugh’s former captain Geoff Lawson says it was “disrespectful not respectful” for Waugh to wear his cap until it was so battered, his erstwhile coach Bob Simpson that the cap should always “be in pristine condition”. Keith Stackpole expresses bafflement: “I can’t understand why they mean that much when they don’t bat in the things.”

Former Australian women cricketers are honoured with baggy greens in 2004 © Getty Images
Deliciously, the players are now having reflected back to them their own public avowals of unswerving allegiance. When the Australians wore a sponsor’s blue practice caps into the field against a Jamaican Select XI last month in the pipe-opener to their Caribbean tour, it must have been one of the few occasions in sports marketing where a corporation has been embarrassed at their logo’s visibility. In a typically trenchant column in the , Greg Baum saw CUB as muscling in where corporates should fear to tread: “Plainly, they [the Australian team] were playing not for us, but for yet another franchise. This was a breathtaking contempt, not just morally, because of the campaign against binge-drinking, and not just aesthetically, because it made the Australian team look like a pack of Sunday afternoon pub players.” Tabloid headlines reverberated; talkback radio hummed for days. There might not have been the same fuss had the players turned up in identical rainbow tams.Even by the eccentric standards of Australian cricket controversies, this was a most peculiar incident. Team protests that they were simply acting out of solidarity with Brad Haddin, not yet capped at Test level, cut no ice: you tamper at your peril even with the totems you help create. Yet nobody seemed much bothered by the publication in April of an Australian Cricket Association survey revealing that almost half of Australia’s contracted players would consider retiring prematurely from international cricket in order to maximise their IPL earnings potential. No wonder players are confused if the substance of change no longer bothers Australians so much as its symbols.Perhaps, then, we are at a historic hinge point. Hitherto there has been a synergy between the advance of the baggy green cult and the rise of the players as commercial commodities. But is the time coming when the cap will be a brand in competition with the players’ , restricting their commercial freedom, scrambling their individual messages? A survey last week by polling company Sweeney Research reported that six of the ten most “marketable” Australian sportsmen were cricketers: Ricky Ponting (1), Adam Gilchrist (2), Brett Lee (5), Glenn McGrath (6), Steve Waugh (9) and Andrew Symonds (10). How readily does a backward-looking symbol of collective purpose reconcile with the forward-looking promotion of standalone stars? All the more reason to check out , to check on where we’ve come from in readiness for where we’re going.

Even when AB de VIlliers reached his century today, the packed Western Terrace of Headingley still hadn’t forgiven him for his first-day non-catch

Andrew McGlashan at Headingley20-Jul-2008

The Western Terrace at Headingley is notorious for its atmosphere and they made their feelings known when AB de Villiers walked in on the second day. A chorus of boos rang around the ground following de Villiers’ non-catch against Andrew Strauss on Thursday, and even when he reached his century today the packed stand still hadn’t forgiven him.It was a new experience for de Villiers, one he found difficult to accept, but when he finally departed for 174 the roars of discontent had subsided to a lower level. “It was the first time I’d ever been booed walking out and that was very disappointing. It hurt quite a lot,” he said. “But if anything it motivated me and I’m very satisfied to be sitting here right now with a hundred.”de Villiers’ century came on the back of being given a piece of Michael Vaughan’s mind at lunch on the opening day, following his claiming of a catch against Strauss. It looked an ugly moment on TV, the ball clearly being grassed, but de Villiers had tried to calm the issue by apologising straight away.”The truth of what happened [with the catch] was the ball hit my right hand and went straight into my left hand,” he explained. “I was pretty sure I’d taken the catch although I went straight to [Graeme Smith] and said I’m not 100% sure. He said don’t worry, it’s being referred. There was no way I was going to let Straussy walk off without telling the umpires I wasn’t sure.”I’m very happy it was referred and given not out, because I would never have been able to go to bed at night if I’d known he had to walk off the field. When I walked past Andrew I told him I wasn’t sure because I never had my own chance to go to the umpires. That’s the end of the story and it was very sorry to be booed onto the field. I didn’t feel I deserved that.”As well as receiving a heated reception from the crowd there were the predictable chirps from the England players. He was then stuck on 99 for more than 40 minutes, surviving a huge appeal for caught behind off Andrew Flintoff, who was less than impressed. “I wasn’t expecting anything less,” said de Villiers. “I did get my fair share of words when I walked on, but that’s part of the game. If anything it played into my hands and motivated me to stay there for as long as possible.”I was under quite a lot of pressure on 99, we couldn’t afford to lose a wicket, and Freddie was bowling unbelievably well. I actually thought, gee that’s too good, and I was smiling. That’s when Freddie had a go because he thought I was laughing at him. That’s where the little misunderstanding came from.”However, when he reached three figures there was acknowledgement from most of the England players and de Villiers holds no grudges about anything that has happened between teams. “I’m not going to take any offence from their players. Whatever is said on the field or in the dressing room is alright. I really respect that and thank the boys for clapping for a hundred.”

But through all the boos and stares, de Villiers stood firm. He has changed as a batsman from the dashing, ultra-aggressive figure who made his debut against England in 2005-06. That series was a microcosm of his early career as he was shunted up and down the order (and even kept wicket). However, he has now found his home at No. 6, so much so that if Neil McKenzie had failed his fitness test JP Duminy would have opened, rather than disrupting de Villiers in the middle order. He has adapted his play and this was the slowest of his six Test centuries, taking 264 balls, showing a new level of maturity.”It’s important on any English wicket to leave well. Myself and Ash [Ashwell Prince] discussed it and said it’s one of those wickets where we are going to have to be patient,” he said. “You have to know where your off stump is and where you want to score. I was lucky at stages and played and missed a bit, but that’s part of the game.”His effort has put South Africa firmly on course for a 1-0 series lead. However, three days into the previous Test, the visitors were in a similarly dire predicament as England now find themselves so de Villiers is prepared for a hard slog. “It’s going to take a lot of patience and guts. As a batter you have to be patient, but we are going to have to be even more patient with the ball and take our chances. If we stick to out disciplines, there’s no reason we shouldn’t win the Test.”The difference is that confidence is now oozing from a team which has settled into conditions. As Makhaya Ntini showed in the final session the bowlers are finding their groove after a slow start, and the same also applies to the batting. With de Villiers’ marathon innings following Ashwell Prince’s elegant 149 it means that the only member of the top six not to reach three figures is Jacques Kallis. With the series not yet at the halfway mark, that’s a pretty sobering thought for England’s battle-weary bowlers.

In winter Delhi often hosts multiple first-class matches at the same time. Can one fan watch them all? Our intrepid correspondent gives it a shot

Sidharth Monga07-Dec-2008

Concrete horror: the new Kotla takes shape, in early 2006 © Getty Images
The locals sometimes don’t realise it, but with three teams based in the capital Delhi is the place to be for a cricket fan in winter.You can take your pick: a Delhi or Railways game, or perhaps a Services one. If you know the place, you can shuttle between three matches in a day. If you don’t want to miss any action, you can hope for a round like the one that concluded this week, when Delhi and Orissa finished their game in two days, allowing the focus to shift to the other matches.Feroz Shah Kotla was my first stop for two reasons: Virender Sehwag, GautamGambhir and Ishant Sharma had returned to help Delhi out of the rut theyfound themselves in. Also, the track that was laid out, a green carpet because Delhi desperately need an outright win, promised a lot of action.The Kotla could be a beautiful ground. It’s located in the walled citadel of the emperor Feroz Shah Tughlaq, with fortified gates, barbican towers, and open spaces all around. But for years the stadium has been neglected by administrators. When they recently rebuilt it, they got it even more wrong. The massively ugly concrete Jaypee Stand (named after a local cement manufacturer) has a feel of the industrial areas on the outskirts of Delhi rather than the peaceful immediate surroundings. During international matches, supremely vulgar advertisements adorn the concrete, for, among other products, indigestion pills and mouth freshener – the ads for the latter featuring lots of cleavage. The players’ balcony is situated at extra cover. An open toilet welcomes one at the point beyond which police won’t let vehicles pass.It’s different during a Ranji match. There are no advertisements, no police, and at least no users of the toilet. The press box does not function during this game because the scorers want to sit in the sun.The first day of the match happens to be election day in Delhi. That’s close to 20 fewer votes cast: everyone in the Delhi team is eligible to vote – apart from Pradeep Sangwan, perhaps, who turned 18 only a month ago. Polling day is a holiday, so there is quite a first-day crowd – that’s about 200 people. Some are even able to sit on the grass between the boundary rope and the boundary boards. It’s the closest one can get to watching cricket from grass banks in India. With the winter sun, and tea, it is quite an experience.The scoreboard operator at the Kotla sits in the scoreboard, a wheeled unit, which affords him some shelter as he goes about his work, watching the game from the window-like slots for the scores.Sunil Dev, the secretary of the sports committee that runs Delhi cricket, is a businessman who always makes time to watch Delhi play. On this pitch, where if you blink you miss a wicket, he gets restive if a wicket doesn’t fall for ten minutes – when Delhi are fielding that is. He doesn’t rest easy until Ishant Sharma has clean-bowled Orissa’s No. 11, Dhiraj Singh, just after tea on the second day to get Delhi a 52-run win. That after Delhi managed 78 in the first innings. The transition is seamless: from the crowd outside New Delhi railway to ticket touts to shops selling fake sunglasses to cheap hotels to other frauds looking for tourists heading to the Karnail Singh stadium The early finish takes me to my next stop, the Karnail Singh Stadium, aboutseven kilometres away, next to the New Delhi railway station. Having lived in Delhi, I never imagined there could be a first-class ground just outside the chaos of the rail station. The transition is seamless: from the station crowd to ticket touts to shops selling fake sunglasses to cheap hotels to other frauds looking for tourists heading to the stadium.At the stadium what you see is what you get, unlike at the other establishments on the road. It is a humble ground, but quaint, and almost beautiful. It is a multi-sport venue and there are trees around the ground, broken up by the boxing hall, the badminton hall and the gymnasium. Akhil Kumar, the maverick boxer who almost won India a medal at the Beijing Olympics, is training at the ground. His physio, Heath Matthews, is a cricket buff. Is boxing the tougher sport? Matthews points out how, in comparison to cricket, boxing bouts, in airconditioned indoor rings, finish in half an hour.When UP are in town, quaintness takes a back seat. At 8.45am loud music blares just outside their dressing room. At the end of the match I realise that the music system is Praveen Kumar’s: he carries it back. Ferociously funny leg-pulling – most of it unprintable – is the UP players’ favourite pastime, and they treat team-mates and opponents alike to it.The scoreboard at the Karnail Singh is the old wooden green-boards type, withnails to hang the score digits on – also wooden. The operator sits near the board and gets up to change scores every time a run is scored, unlike at some grounds where scores on manual boards change in multiples of ten. Diwan Singh has been doing the job here for close to 30 years. He gave up a good bank job to work as an announcer with the Railways so he could get days off to watch cricket. He remembers the celebrations here in 2001-02 when Railways won the Ranji Trophy – avenging their loss to Baroda in the final the previous season. He distributed sweets worth Rs 2000 that day. He makes Rs 100 a day managing the scoreboard.The proceedings are slow, with Yere Goud playing a typically painstaking innings to save the follow-on. Diwan will recover by watching some Australian domestic Twenty20 at home. “I watch just about any cricket on TV.”A Railways fanatic, a fixture of sorts at the ground, wants to sit near the players, almost each of whom he knows. Security doesn’t let him in, but he tries to run through. The officials catch him and start beating him up. Maninder Singh, who happens to be there, intervenes, saves the young man, embraces him, and convinces him that nobody is allowed near the players. “See, they all know me,” the fan, who wears a Railways tracksuit, boasts to the security men.On the final day UP give themselves close to three sessions to bowl Railways out. It seems like too much time when Railways slip to 33 for 6 quickly. The probability of a facile result gives me time to move on to the third match, at the faraway Air Force Station, where no journalist goes. The reasons are not tough to find: on my way, I am made to divert from the direct route, which is off limits to the press because it passes through a defence area. Even if one manages to get to the ground, there is no conveyance back.When I finally reach the ground, less than a kilometre from the airport, I see, for the first time, a first-class match not being watched by anybody. Not a single party not directly involved with the teams. The only two “spectators” are from Modern Office Systems, the company contracted to move the cameras (for the umpire review), the laptops and computers required, and to look after the power requirements at the ground. These two gentlemen are seen at the Kotla too. They say they wouldn’t come to watch the game at the Palam A Stadium if it wasn’t part of their job, but they are interested enough in cricket to remember the warm-up game South Africa played here before the 1996 World Cup – about the only remotely high-profile game at the ground.

The Palam A ground, which blurs into the B ground © Cricinfo Ltd
It is a scenic ground, with plenty of trees about, but the frequent noise of planes taking off spoils things a bit. The only other problem is the “A” in the name. It means there is a “B” ground too, right next to A. There are no boundaries between the two, so midwicket is where you want a fielder all the time. If the ball goes through there, there’s no stopping it from going as far as it can on its momentum.Services have four wickets left, and have to bat out two sessions to draw and get on the board this season. Madhya Pradesh have controlled the game throughout, but on abenign pitch they can’t eke out a result. Jasvir Singh scores a four-and-a-half hour unbeaten century to take Services home.A call to another journalist at the Karnail Singh tells me I have to rush back.Mahesh Rawat and Sanjay Bangar have got a partnership going, and the gamethere seems headed towards a thrilling draw. When I get there Suresh Rainapulls off a stunning catch to dismiss Rawat – who has scored 80 despite viral fever – and bring UP back into the game. That’s as far as they get,though: led by the broad bat of Bangar, and a courageous Anureet Singh,playing in his first season, Railways survive the remaining 47 minutes. Bangarhas batted through the 87 overs of the innings for 70 runs and a point.UP are disappointed they haven’t slammed the door shut. Five minutes later,though, loud Punjabi music emanates from their dressing room. That’show they play their cricket. It is a good note on which to end a satisfyingweek of cricket.

He knows exactly when his batting average dipped below his dad’s, he knows he is England’s 638th Test player, and he can swing the ball pretty fast and accurately as well

Edward Craig25-Sep-2008Stuart Broad is a science nerd. “He knows more about one area of physics than I did – force and pressure, anything to do with swing. Broady is very clued up on all this.” Frank Hayes, one-time England batsman, now physics teacher and cricket master at Oakham School, spills the beans.Broad, England’s freshest face in a young squad (30-year-old Andrew Flintoff was the oldest player in the first one-dayer against South Africa at Headingley), may have appeared naked in , have floppy, blond hair, boy-band looks and a love of fast cars, but for all that he is a cricket geek.He is at Silverstone for a driving day laid on by Volkswagen, one of England’s sponsors. He spots a copy of the on the table in the briefing room, and ignoring all the sexy car magazines, starts flicking through, looking at pictures and statistics. He knows his stats.”I look at Ashley Giles. He averaged just over 20 with four 50s in his Test career, and he was renowned as a good No. 8,” he says. “If I can be around that 25-mark, I would certainly be able to do the business with the bat. Freddie [Flintoff] is one of the best bowlers in the world, and he averages 32. Anything near 30 and you are doing your bit for the team.”Numbers are important to him. They measure success. And he is very competitive and very proud. “I am 638. Only 638 people in 100-plus years of Test cricket have played for England. It is not many, so I am in a privileged club. My ODI number is 197.”This competitive streak emerges during his VW driving experience. Not only is he driving off-road in a brand new 4×4. He is also giving an F4 racing car a spin round the Silverstone circuit. The weather is atrocious, so both trips are fraught, but Broad knows only one way: attack. An ashen-faced instructor stumbles out of the 4×4 once Broad has finished his run. “He wanted to see how fast it goes,” the instructor explains, “and this is a course for accuracy not speed.”Ravi Bopara overturned a 4×4 during a similar session last year, and Broad has admitted in the past to causing damage to these tough machines. When he gets on the racing circuit the story is the same: “I am more aggressive than others, being a sportsman. I spun the F4 three times and got aggressive on the track. I wanted to test it out. As a sportsman you are always testing your limits.”Broad knows no other way and this trait is genetic. Everyone remembers his father Chris, Ashes winner in 1986-87, as a short-tempered opener who became a match referee. But what is his relationship with his dad like? Stuart says it is good, but it is clearly fiery.

On Twenty20

It will be sad to hear eight-year-olds saying, ‘I want to be a Twenty20 player for England.’

On the Stanford millions
It happens in other sports. Golfers can win £1m for a week’s work. The money is shocking in cricket terms but not sport terms.

On KP’s captaincy
It was enjoyable to play under him. He is supportive, lets you place the field. He is inventive and he enjoys captaining.

On Kolpaks
Used sensibly, they enrich the sport. The best youngsters will always come through and they are playing against better players

Dad likes to keep son in check: “He was the first to text me when we won at Old Trafford against New Zealand. He played 25 Tests and won two. I had played five and won three, beating him after just five Tests. I think he is happy I scored 1 at The Oval [against South Africa] because now my batting average is below his again. But he’s delighted. He loves watching me play, though he gets a bit nervous.”Does Stuart have any of his father’s temperament or his temper? “Yes. But I have only kicked down stumps in the back garden. I have his passion for it. I love winning, I love playing to win. You need some of that to be a bowler. You need to have a hatred for the batsman to make sure you have that real fire to perform.”Before Stuart’s Test debut Chris said his son would not make it through his career without being fined his entire match fee at least once. And Stuart says he sees the irony of his father’s poacher-turned-gamekeeper situation. “He is always on at me about little things I do wrong. He knows all the ins and outs, so if I don’t turn round [to the umpire] for an appeal he asks why. He’s good at his job because he’s not afraid to make decisions. He’s not afraid to speak his mind, which got him in trouble in the past. He’s not there to sit in the background and let people get away with it. He is there to say, ‘Look, you’ve done wrong. I’m going to fine you.'”It was Broad’s mother Carole who nurtured his young love of the game. His parents split up when he was six and she shipped the eager boy from youth matches to practice and even helped out herself: “My mum was always the one that took me to all the matches, sat there watching in the school holidays – she’s a teacher as well – then drove me home and talked about the game. She saw a lot more cricket than my dad. I’d be in the back garden playing and I’d want 50 catches thrown at me, so she’d be out there throwing catches. She was key in letting me enjoy my cricket. I was never forced to play. I just loved the sport and always played.”

Big, bad, better than his dad: but his mum played a bigger role in his development as a cricketer

The paternal influence is never far away, though, and when it was deemed that England were messing around with Stuart’s bowling action, it was Chris who went public. In November 2006 he said on radio: “I don’t believe you should have a whole host of clones playing in an England side so that they don’t get injured. Stuart’s is a very natural action, it’s a very easy action, and it’s a wicket-taking action. Injury is part and parcel of any game. A coach should work with the talent he has got in front of him.”Hayes and David Steele, the former England batsman who was Oakham School’s professional, as well as numerous coaches at Leicestershire, were frustrated when they saw a new chest-on version of Stuart. Hayes explains: “With England his action was changed so that he was told to bowl chest-on. He is now getting back to how he was a couple of years ago and starting to swing the ball again. He actually lost his ability to swing it.” Broad now works closely with Ottis Gibson, England’s newish bowling coach and an old Leicestershire colleague.Hayes says that Broad’s most impressive attribute at school, whether in cricket, hockey or physics, was his remarkable ability to absorb information and heed advice. Broad believes he has learned from every single moment in his international career, good and bad. When he was dropped after the Headingley Test this year he did not mope but hurried back to Trent Bridge for a Championship match and took wickets. It made him realise how big a deal being a Test cricketer was. He explains: “When you are involved in the Test you are always doing your thing, preparing, playing. You can get in your own bubble and not realise how much support and love there is for it – but when you are out of the England side, everyone is watching it, everyone is talking about it. You realise how enthralled everyone is by it. Sometimes you forget how massive it is. I really missed it.”His embryonic career has already had its highs – and a historic low when India’s Yuvraj Singh hit him for six sixes in one over in a World Twenty20 match. He winces when reminded. Does he have nightmares about it? “No, not at all. I forgot about it quickly. I went straight to Sri Lanka to play. I took 11 wickets at 19 each and enjoyed it. It was a bad over by me, very well punished. I did not get a ball where I wanted to. It is very rare that a player can strike it as well as he did. I can’t remember what was going through my mind. I was trying to bowl wide outside off stump and that probably freed his arms. In Twenty20 batsmen can play without pressure or fear and just slog it. Bowlers have to accept they will go for runs sometimes.”And, as ever, he has learned from that moment: “A lot has happened since then. I have made my Test debut, I played 20-odd one-dayers. It has made me a better bowler, the way I practise and go about things. It wouldn’t happen again. My stats since then are good.”Broad seems level-headed, neither carried away by success nor despondent at failure. He is only 22, and clearly enjoys the trappings of being an international sportsman, but there is a maturity and intelligence that, fingers crossed, bodes well. He says he seeks not pace but accuracy and movement – more Shaun Pollock, less Shoaib Akhtar. “I am not trying to bowl quicker,” he says. “I can improve my pace and bowl in the high-80s but it is important not to chase pace because you can lose what you do well, such as putting the ball in the right areas. It is like driving a car: if you try to drive round corners at 90mph, you are going to crash more times than if you drive at 75mph.” Speed is not everything, even for a 22-year-old pin-up.