pitter-patter of tiny puppy feet

Verbatim from the Daily Telegraph, so it must be true!
Other reports suggest a HUUUUUUUUGE five carat diamond ring.
How long until there’s the pitter-patter of tiny puppy feet??

“Is it possible that Michael Clarke and Lara Bingle are about to take cricket's most glamorous partnership to the next level?
Clarke's manager denies it but there was a hot rumour circulating yesterday that the glamour couple are preparing to announce their engagement just over a year after they got together.
They were pictured shopping in Brisbane yesterday soon after the Australian team checked into a hotel.
Walking hand in hand, they looked every bit the happy couple.
See pics of Lara and Michael here.
Clarke had plenty to smile about after captaining Australia to a Twenty20 win over India in front of 84,000 spectators at the MCG on Friday night.
His leadership skills caught the eye of regular skipper Ricky Ponting, who missed the match with a back injury.”

...and then...in a crazy week...the Tait kiddie goes mad

Trick cyclists,

Spent last Sunday in an interesting exercise of watching two very similar games of cricket in a kind of parallax view.
Attended the SCG for day three of the Milk Cup match NSW v WA.
Two old ladies, who must have been in their 70’s, somehow found themselves a pair of chairs and installed them in the air-conditioned comfort of Monty”s Bar in the MA Noble Stand, pretty much with a perfect view of the ground behind the bowlers arm at the Paddington end, and just over their shoulders was a telly with the test match on it, with the Channel Nine commentary gently piped throughout the bar.
They got themselves a schooner each at 11am, and settled in for the day.
A class act.
There is no other player in the first class caper at the moment who can take imperious command of the centre square like Simon Katich does.
It’s as if everyone is out there for the sole purpose of serving up runs on a platter.
Like when he stands up to the quicks on the back foot and plays an immaculate defensive shot, and the ball just rolls away to mid on for a single.
Has all the answers for the spinners and scored most of his 25+ boundaries off them,
Thinking that he must take slow bowlers for idiots, or at least the ones that aren’t very good at it.
Would have been disappointed to be out for 189, with the double looming, but you can hardly blame him – one of those lazy shots that creep into your game after hours and hour and hours at the crease, that you would normally get away with nine times out ten.
And in any case it wasn’t about personal scores on the day anyway.
The Kat knew all too well that someone had to make a big score to try and run down the first inning points and then take whatever lead you can get, as the first innings lead in any game is worth its weight in gold.
And with Haddin out early, he knew it was all down to him.
Some Beau Casson fireworks extended the lead to about 90, which was more than enough in the end, but we missed the four quick wickets very late in the day with Doug “Champagne” Bollinger on fire yet again [closing in on 50 first class wickets for the season] as me and me mate Trev had by then retired to the comforts of a beer garden near Central station, to tell more lies and talk more nonsense.
Katich – now here’s a bloke who has already scored a thousand first class runs this summer at an average of about 118, with four big tons [including the triple] and a string of 50’s to win/save games etc.
Here’s a bloke who has now scored a thousand first class runs against every state except NSW [and he scored a few when he was playing against us for WA!].
Here’s a bloke who averages about 55 in all first class cricket [and he’s played a helluva lot of county cricket] -- there aint many of them that do that.
And here’s a bloke who can’t get a game for Australia, let alone a Cricket Australia contract!
Go figure?
At least NSW has had the decency and sense to look after him as captain guaranteed for the next four years, on a fair whack.
Meantime, at the test match in Adelaide, MJ Clarke was doing nothing more or less than was expected of him by his captain – score a big hundred on a deck that lets face it your grandmother could have scored a big hundred on, after nursing Punter through to his own hundred.
Interesting that he adapted well to the circumstances - well in on a dead pitch against some pretty good bowling; put away about half your usual shots, and concentrate, concentrate, concentrate.
I haven’t had a look at the score card, but I think you’ll find about 50 of the hundred was scored in singles and you could count the number of boundaries on the fingers of one hand.
And jeez he’s pretty to watch against spin, the footwork is balletic and he worked a bit more off the backfoot in this innings trying to negate the irresistible urge to go dancing and find yourself out of your ground.
Wouldn’t have been disappointed to get out to an absolute screamer at 2nd slip - just ran out of luck at the end.
Something of a worry though in the field.
Dropped a couple of howlers in both Perth and Adelaide.
Should spend more time behind the slips machine.
But you can hardly blame him; Pup doesn’t know whether he’s Arthur or Martha fielding at first and second slip.
Someone needs to decide where he’s going to stand, and leave him alone.
Or perhaps he could be like Steve Waugh of recent memory, and become a prowling specialist cover point.
I’m sure The Iceman would tell you it’s a pretty good spot from which to move the cattle about.
Nice spell of bowling too in tandem with Roy, with Taity out of favour, and Hoggy getting hit.
A couple of excellent wickets to stash away in the kit.
Some mention should be made in passing of the retirement of the great Adam Gilchrist.
Always rated Gilly as best all rounder of his generation – possibly the best all rounder in living memory [ie since Keith Miller] – even though he never bowled a single ball in first class cricket
Always a batsman first and a wicket keeper second, he changed the way test cricket is played forever almost single-handedly with his flamboyant, aggressive line in batting, to the point where scoring slowly in test matches is now considered un-Australian!
A scholar and a gentleman to boot -- and there aren’t many of us left – and a genuine ornament to the game, who’s ears will be sorely missed.
And then…in a crazy week…the Tait kiddie…goes mad!
Where will it all end?
Certainly hope he doesn’t do a Johnny Briggs.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Johnny_Briggs_%28cricketer%29

a gigantic tusk up the runter

Fellow Disappointees.

Consider this scenario:
You are 81 not out in a test match after playing all the shots and you are seeing the ball like a watermelon; starring down the barrel of a famous hundred as you fight a rearguard action in a seemingly hopeless, losing cause.
Then suddenly a major fuse in your brain explodes.
You dance down the pitch to a well flighted, well pitched ball, you miss the thing by a proverbial country mile, and only have time to look back over your shoulder to see the best stumper in the game pull the ball down from shoulder height and clinically remove the bails.
What’s the sponsor’s slogan? “Keep on walking”.
Clarkey, Clarkey, Clarkey, what were you thinking?
The kiddie still has a lot to learn about test cricket.
Given what the tail did very late in the piece and the Raj’s winning margin, Pup in fact missed the chance to become an overnight national hero just by keeping an end together and scoring a big hundred.
In a match won by India simply by bowling well in both innings, it might be instructive to have a look at the match batting aggregates in game where no century was scored.
VVS Laxman 106
MJ Clarke 104
R Dravid 96
SR Tendulkar 84
A Symonds 78
IK Pathan 74
RT Ponting 65
Seems fairly obvious Clarke scored his runs in the wrong innings, whereas the Indians popped up where it mattered in both.
But from the off, Straya was always in more trouble than the early settlers when you consider the opener’s match aggregates:
PA Jaques 24
CJL Rogers 19
[From that effort, you’d think that CJL Rogers would join MJ Nicholson in the exclusive One Test Wonder Club].
But the inescapable upshot is that Straya copped a gigantic tusk up the runter to the tune of 72 runs; never mind records going out with the bath water.
I blame the Captain.
Punter looked and acted like his head had been done in by Sydney and its aftermath, made a couple of blunders, and always had your scratching your head.
Interesting that on interview after the game he said “now we won’t be making any excuses for losing the match”, and then proceeded to trot out the list of excuses for losing the match, as if making a powerpoint presentation.
In my book, the Captain has to take responsibility, on account of the buck always stops at the desk of the chief executive officer.
Another shocker in Adelaide, and I may have to give Roebuck a ring re the timing of the gold watch presentation.

I have seen the future

Purists,

I have seen the future.
Very happy indeed to count myself, along with the good lady wife, among the 23,737 punters in attendance at the Olympic Stadium last night for the T20 game NSW v QLD which was billed as Ohh Aah’s Last Hurrah.
Some bright spark at the NSW Cricket Association had figured out that Glenn McGrath had retired from test cricket a full twelve months ago and still went on to play in the World Cup, but had never really had a proper send off wearing the Blue Bag.
Sydney cricket fans voted with their feet.
First got wind that something was up when I got to Lidcombe station from Strathfield and found the Olympic Park platform absolutely jammed packed.
Thankfully Shitty Rail had the decency and sense to put on a train every ten minutes to shift the crowds.
When I got to the Novotel bar it was like a Sydney Swans match crowd – except they were in either blue or maroon state of origin style – one bloke had contrived to dress up like Marcel Marceu, a couple of refugees from the Sydney test match had slipped on colourful summer frocks over their hairy manboobs, and I was expecting to see people in monkey/gorilla suits – but there were none that I saw.
And a crowd of that size can make some noise in that fishbowl!
Cold, full strength beer and hot pies were on tap; something unheard of in this day and age.
There was even a mob of speed daters in on the middle deck.
Whenever a wicket fell or a six was scored , the boys moved along one seat to the next girl, and all repaired to the Cauldron Bar for some shitfacedness after the game.
The game itself was a quite curios affair on an even curiouser drop in pitch that made scoring difficult.
When NSW found themselves five wickets down for not many on the board, Katich sent out the edict that there would be no heroics under any circumstances, and the aim of the game was to bunt singles and make sure you scored off every ball.
Queensland pretty much tried the same tactic in the conditions and only fell just short in reply.
The great McGrath had an excellent game with one wicket and two catches, although he thought he’d lost the game for the Mighty Bleeeeews when he grassed a sitter late in the QLD innings.
Moped around at third man slapping his thigh
Not to matter.
Had them all out on the last ball of the match anyway.
Ooh Ahh would be hurting this morning – he’s been in a good paddock since retirement.
SPD Smith, a hitherto unknown NSW 18 year old right arm leggie, known to his mother as “Steven”, to his team mates as “Junior”, and to everyone else as “Smiffy”, took four wickets late in the piece to snare the man-of-the match award
Smiffy has the weirdest run up in world cricket for mine.
He takes three small steps then literally stops [!!] mid stride, then somehow gets going again by dragging his left foot and then three more sort of strange loping steps to the crease and then he’s into his delivery stride.
No one could have possibly coached him to do it that way.
Any batsman seeing that would be going “What the…?”
Trades on the surprise factor.
On interview after game:
Ground Announcer: “that would have been the biggest crowd you’ve ever played in front of”
Smiffy: “oh, yeah, right, yeah, it was”
GA: “you must have been pretty happy with your own performance”
Smiffy “um, yeah, I was just happy to get a game”
GA: “must have been great playing with Glenn McGrath”
Smiffy: “oh, yeah, erm, yeah, a fantastic legend”
End of interview.
Dave Warner from the Suburbs also turned out for NSW and the nickname in pink on the back of his shirt read “Wee Man”.
I couldn’t help wondering if he is related to the late, great “Trough Man” of Oxford Street fame?
The more you look at it, the more it becomes apparent that it is a fielder’s game, best played by kiddies.
Whoever is best at short sprints and accurate throws do the best.
While I consider myself something of a purist, I fell in love with T20 from the moment I first witnessed it at Hurstville Oval, maybe four or five seasons backs now.
I am sure it would simply horrify the good folks who invented the caper, particularly the blokes from the Hambledon CC who perfected the art in Hampshire all those years ago.
They imagined the game as a long, languid, liquid pursuit that was frequently punctuated by long breaks in play for drinks and meals, something still reflected in the long form of the game today.
Very happy when not much happened.
But Hambledon’s utter refusal to change ultimately led to the club’s oblivion, and the control of the game being thieved off them.
They would take one look at T20 and say “What the!! You haven’t even got time to fart!”
Strangely, the game was played in the spirit of the game, and I thought the umpires swarthy GA Abood and the fat boy RD Goodger both put in creditable exhibitions.
Especially the Abood, who gave a very close run out decision against Queensland – the Bamford was crouched like a close in catcher and had his hands on his knees taking a close look at the action from a shortish square leg, and when the appeal went up in a flurry of arms, legs, bat, ball and flying bails, he had no hesitation in jumping to his feet and raising the finger.
Respect.

a golden duck, golden bollocks and a gold watch

Denizens of the bleachers,

What a test match!
Had everything.
No less than five fine centuries, including an absolute sparkler from The Little Master, spectacular batting failures, some top notch seam and spin bowling, some bowling that could hardly be considered even first class standard, a wicketkeeper with a fit of the iron gloves, dropped catches, grassed catches claimed as fair, the worst and most appalling exhibition of umpiring seen this century, rain delays, pitch hammering by the ground staff, foul play, foul language, bald-faced cheating, sledging, racial vilification, petulant captains, and they even had a monkey roaming about the field unharrassed by security!
Just a pity that for various reasons I was unable to attend the ground for the test match for the first time in more than a decade, particularly as I am the sort of bloke who doesn’t mind a drink in a crisis.
After MJ Clarke’s first innings failure, he fronted a sportsman’s breakfast the next day and described the shot as an “aberration” [nope, not a lapse in judgement].
You’d certainly hope it’s not a harbinger of the bad old days when he was getting himself out leg before on a regular basis due to a technical deficiency.
Remarkably, up until the second innings, MJ Clarke over the course of 46 innings had never made a test match duck, so it was only fitting that he should go the whole hog and score a golden duck, and do his bit for charity.
Just when I was about to write off the kiddie‘s contribution to the match as absolutely zero, what happens?
Ponting [labeled by a Sky News sports producer who shall remain nameless as “a little cockhead” for ‘declaring too late’ on the fifth day] pulled out the last trick in the bag - after Pup had been asking to bowl all day mind you - and put on his left arm dibbly-dobblers, and he goes right ahead and wins the match singlehandedly in a matter of minutes after more than 33 hours of play!
Never mind that his second wicket was patently not out.
On interview after the match he quipped that he had taken more wickets than made runs, but was gracious enough to admit that his match winning effort involved “more arse than class”.
Captain Cockhead said after the game that Pup is now being called “Golden Bollocks” by his team mates – a moniker that may well stick.
After telling them that they are fools to themselves and a burden on the community, the powers-that-be should see to it that the Bamfords are punted for Perth [preferably with Stevie “Wonder” Bucknor sensibly taking the gold watch option] and The Turbinator rubbed out for three matches, perhaps we can now just forget all the nonsense of the past couple of days and start afresh with a clean slate in the west?
Somehow, I think not.
More like going for each other’s jugulars from the off.

which side their bread is buttered on

Pooch pamperers,

Another very tidy test match performance from MJ Clarke.
You can’t argue with a match aggregate of 93 runs on a dreadfully woeful pitch.
His first innings 20 was too cautious for mine, if you spend 82 minutes scratching around the crease trying to get your eye in.
Was checking a few of his shots and eventually got out to an absolutely awful stroke that would have had him kicking himself all the way back to the pavilion.
The second innings 73 was as good as it gets, considering as the kiddie explained on interview after the days play that he had a lot trouble reading the reverse swing.
Certainly had the dancing shoes on to the slow men, and pulled out a few cracking trade mark off cuts and cover drives.
Thankfully, I was fast asleep on the lounge when he got out, but if you are using the twinkle toes, there’s always the risk of missing the ball, in which case you will almost certainly be out stumped.
Take the $6.50 currently on offer about Pup making the highest Australian first innings score on a decent deck [read four lane highway] in Sydney.
Has to be a certainty, surely?
On the coverage on the crystal bucket, also noticed from time to time that Punter was giving Pup a few tips in the slips on the fine art of field placings.
More grooming?
No sign of Our Lara in the stands – she was probably on Xmas duties in the Shire.

By no means surprised to see the Great Gilly overtake Heals record for the most number of wickets snared with the gloves.
I’ve always rated Gilly as one of the best, if not the best, all rounder in the modern game.
It’s always had me puzzled that for years that the Chairman and the Three Wise Men have been on this futile and ultimately fruitless search for a “genuine all rounder”, when they’ve got Gilly batting at number seven, for chrissake!
And while we are at it, what’s the point of having the finest cricket stadium in the world, when the pitch is no where near up to test standard?
First grade suburban cricketers would have been within their rights to complain about it.
Maybe they should reinstall the permanent wicket square, and make the footballers suffer like they did in the olden days?
Too much to ask; footballers are precious little things, and the fools who purport to run the MCG would be the first to tell you that they know only too well which side their bread is buttered on, and that the AFL does all the buttering.

a cheeky shiraz from the Scoreboard Bar

Canine fanciers,

The kiddie can do no wrong…
In his first game as captain of a senior Strayan team what does he do?
Wins the toss and sensibly elects to bat, opens the batting himself with his Vice-Captain, clubs a boundary off his first scoring shot, then bangs away perhaps the best six of the match, decides to get out to allow Roy to get on with the job, like he’d told him he should, then spends the rest of innings on the sideline benches clapping and cheering with the crowd, as the boys do the business for him in the middle.
Then presides over some very useful first up fast bowling, sees the opposition top order back in the sheds in quick smart time due to some fine catching including an absolute dead set screamer by his V-C behind the stumps, and finishes off the night with an easy as you like victory next to his name in the column headed “wins as Captain”.
He must be thinking there’s nothing to this Twenty20 caper!

Thought the advent of the dunking machine at the WACA was an excellent innovation.
Few things better than Kiwi fans copping it in the drink.
What else was going on?
Did they have Wolf Blass Wenches to fetch you a cheeky shiraz from the Scoreboard Bar?
Would have gone down a treat with the “gourmet” hot dog
Did notice on the crystal bucket; various clowns, wandering minstrels, a fire stick juggler, and a brass band!

Right up into the 1930’s at the Sydney Cricket Ground, there used to be brass bands at either end of the ground playing during the test matches.
And they didn’t just do some polite oom-pa-pa work during the intervals, on no siree, they thundered on all day; the competition was fierce as they tried to out do the opposing band for repertoire and stamina.
Stitch that sound into the cacophony of a large, well lubricated partisan crowd watching a hard fought game – now that’s my idea of fun!