What Has Happened To English Cricket?

Something has happened to English cricket. I'm not sure when it happened, but something has definitely changed. Nobody warned me that this was going to happen and I'm simply not prepared. I don't know how to deal with this new version of being an England cricket supporter.

Perhaps if I were more than a casual supporter of cricket I would have recognised the signs that things were changing. However, I am not a serious supporter and I have developed a coping mechanism for supporting England. This coping mechanism has served me well for nearly thirty years of offering my casual, armchair support. The process was very simple. I got excited about the start of a new test series, I started watching that test series, I watched as hope turned into disappointment, I convinced myself that it was only cricket and that it didn't really matter and then I switched off. Life resumed as normal and the cricket armchair was vacated - replaced by a quick visit to Ceefax later in the day to see just how bad the disappointment was. It worked!

There were of course occasional blips of success that threatened this model of support but they were few and far between. It never took long for normal business to resume and life to fit the parameters that I expected. Current events appear to be more than a blip though, and it is challenging my whole approach to my armchair support.

The development of my trusted coping mechanism can almost certainly be traced back to my cricketing education. In the dim and distant past, like many other armchair fans, my cricketing education took place on the school cricket pitch. I batted number five for the school team (the passage of time allows me not to mention that it was the school B team) and my memories of school cricket are fond ones. I remember being someone who could bat a bit and who enjoyed helping his team gain success. Flashing boundaries and glorious sixes live long in the memory.

The reality, of course, was far removed from the rose-tinted view of nostalgia. Cricket was a game of fear. Fielding involved standing on the boundary hoping that the ball never came anywhere near me. I didn't want to show off my inability to throw a ball. When the ball did head in my general direction I became very religious. I would pray that the ball would bounce before reaching me - my throwing was better than my catching! Fielding was a tortuous affair that couldn't end soon enough. Batting was little better. Far from wanting to help the team achieve success, I spent the beginning of every innings sat in the pavilion hoping for wickets. I didn't care about the score. I just wanted to bat. Nothing was worse than a victory achieved with only two wickets down. When I did bat it was of the 'hit and hope' style of batting. A defensive shot was what you called a mis-hit to protect your dignity. The flashing boundaries may have looked good but I wouldn't know - I had my eyes closed for most of them! Those were the days.

As awful as those cricket experiences were, they were the perfect training for following England. I learned that cricket was a game of fear. I learned that the score was nowhere near as important as protecting dignity and avoiding embarrassment. I also learned that all you really needed was the occasional moment of success to hold onto while conveniently avoiding the less enjoyable reality of a situation. So my coping mechanism was born.

It is very difficult to get upset over defeat when you are mentally prepared to lose. No matter what the score of any given test, my mentality was always one of 'we'll still lose this.' Very often we did. England had a very good track record of snatching defeat from the jaws of victory. Yes, we did have some great players, but they never seemed to have that winning mentality. They would have fitted in very well into my school cricket team in terms of their approach to the game. They never quite developed that Australian refusal to lose or the West Indies ability to strike fear into the opposition - no matter how good their individual players were.

Then, in July 2009, something happened in Cardiff. In a game where defeat was a certainty England refused to lose. It may not have been a victory, but no cricket fan will ever forget the doggedness of Collingwood or the tenth wicket stand of Anderson and Panesar. What is more, England went on to build on that achievement by winning the Ashes. It may not have been perfect, and it may not yet have established itself as more than one of those blips of success, but I noticed a change in my mentality. Instead of thinking 'we will still lose' my attitude had changed to one of 'we could still lose.' A subtle change perhaps, but a change nontheless.

The events of the past seven months have gone even further. Outstanding performances and victory down under have been followed up by another memorable final day in Cardiff against Sri Lanka. England are developing a winning habit. The blip is turning into a trend. I noticed the effect that this had on me during the second test against Sri Lanka at Lords. In a game that seemed to be a certain draw I found myself thinking 'we could still win this.' That the game finally ended in that inevitable draw didn't matter. The change had taken place. Optimism had replaced pessimism and I'm not sure how to deal with it. Optimism opens the door to disappointment and pain. I'm on a far more dangerous path now.

Luckily for me, it seems that the change in my attitude stems from a change in attitude of the team itself. There is no doubt that this England team believes in its own abilities. While it may be a little unfair on previous teams, players and captains to suggest that this is a new phenomenon, the results speak for themselves. England ae developing a ruthlessness that I have not witnessed in the thirty odd years that I have been following them. Ability - which was often there - is now being augmented with a desire and belief that is sweeping aside the opposition. Andrew Strauss and the England hierarchy are shaping a team that refuses to lose on the test arena. England didn't just win in Australia because they were better. They won because they wanted to win more than Australia did. A very un-English trait.

England have made no secret of he fact that their aim is to become the number one test side in the world. Their refusal to lose is certainly a big step in that direction. They have created hope amongst their supporters. The next step will be for them to become a team that the opposition is fearful of facing. We wait to see if they make that next step. The 'we can still win this' mentality may be a dangerous one, but expect it to be an exciting one too in the coming years.

Looking For A Steal

June has arrived with rain which can only mean one thing: we’re once again on the verge of Murray mania. As the world’s elite prepare to descend on the lawns of Wimbledon in the coming weeks, we can be quietly confident that once again the nation’s optimists – from north and south of the border – are preparing to descend on the grass of Murray Mound, ready to cheer on their champion elect.

We can be just as sure that the nation’s cynics are also making their preparations. If you listen carefully you can already hear them sharpening their pencils and jostling for position to be the first to tear Murray to shreds, ready to scapegoat him for the failure of a generation and to castigate him for his careless handling of the nation’s hopes year after year. God forbid he should actually win – how disappointing that would be for the hacks when they find they cannot just copy and paste from yesteryear’s articles.

In fairness, when it comes to tennis there does seem to be a perennial sense of déjà-vu. Although – in fairness – much of that stems from the majestic tennis that has been played over the past decade by a new cohort of stars who have combined pace and power with a deft touch and a vision of the game that had seemed to elude their immediate predecessors (the match-up in the final this weekend just gone a case in point). There were of course stars in the 90s; players who rose to become not just giants of tennis but of sport as a whole. Together they introduced a new ferocity to the sport, exemplified by serves of awesome power that pushed titles out of the reach of previous champions who had triumphed through a more delicate, perhaps craftier style of play.

But today, a new breed of tennis player led by Messrs Federer and Nadal can claim to have brought the craft back – only with the power still turned up to ten. The sport’s headlines may have become somewhat predictable with the near strangle-hold that Roger and Rafael have placed upon the Grand Slam events in recent years, but the action itself has remained captivating and anything but routine.

Andy Murray should rightly be considered part of that cohort that has rekindled levels of interest, beauty and excitement in the men’s game. He’s not been right at the forefront, admittedly, but has certainly played more than a bit part in the drama which has unfolded in recent years. The tag of precocious talent ready to upstage the masters may be shorn, but his credentials as a serious player remain intact and he will almost certainly have further opportunities to steal the show on the main stage.

‘Steal it’ is what you feel he will need to do – certainly the company he keeps at the top of the game renders the unbridled optimism and expectation placed upon his shoulders rather unfair. It’s not going to be handed to him on a plate. Equally, that same esteemed company makes the regular criticism he faces seem somewhat unreasonable too.

Somewhat unreasonable. I dislike the lazy journalism that loves to make a story by waiting for someone to trip up and then shoot them when they are down and I am an admirer of what Murray has managed to achieve so far – but I do wonder, as a lot of the criticism seems to focus on, whether he has it within his character to go out and ‘steal’ a major title.

We’ll have another chance to find out over the next month. I may not be taking my place with the faithful fans on Murray Mound, but I do know who I will be cheering for. Come on, Andy!

Defend The Indefensible: Hamilton Had A Point!

In true Fighting Talk style, the challenge is to claim that Lewis Hamilton had a point when he made his post race comments which have seen him castigated by all and sundry, following last Sunday's Monaco Grand Prix.

At first glance this is not an easy task. It appears that the brakes on Hamilton's tongue are not carbon fibre as he struggled to slow down his over-heated tongue from spouting forth every random, frustrated thought going through his brain. You could see the battle between brain and tongue being played out live to the television cameras. He knew he probably shouldn't be saying what he was, but at the same time could not stop himself. So what exactly did this momentary loss of reason teach us?

The first, and biggest, lesson was that Lewis Hamilton is a better racing driver than he is a stand up comedian. While the Monaco stewards, and in turn the governing body, may well have taken issue with both of these skills, his references to 'is it cos I is black?' is unlikely to have won him any friends in the paddock, halls of power or even among the fans watching. It may have been said in jest, but Lewis has rightly now apologised for remarks that were certainly in bad taste. In light of the genuine struggles that many people still have to overcome because of the colour of their skin, such remarks from a privileged racing driver were hard to swallow.

His comments that his fellow drivers were 'frickin stupid' should make for an interesting reception for Hamilton at the Canadian Grand Prix from those fellow drivers. Although we can safely assume that those comments were aimed primarily at Felipe Massa and Pastor Maldonado, they will be comments that will not gain favour with any of his colleagues. There are only 24 drivers in the elite world of Formula 1 racing, and following those remarks Lewis may well find that it is a lonelier world once you have alienated yourself from your fellow drivers. Nobody has a divine right to win, or even to successfully overtake. Claiming that drivers were stupid for not giving way just because Lewis wanted to pass shows a poor lack of judgement.

Then there is the issue of the race stewards. Putting aside the fact that references to being persecuted because he is black were a joke, there was no hiding the fact that Lewis feels genuinely angry and hard done by because of the amount of times he is being called to explain himself to the stewards. Claiming that the actions of the stewards (not just the Monaco stewards) were a 'frickin joke' was another step towards alienating himself from those he has to deal with as he carries out his beloved passion for racing. Questioning either their integrity or abilities is unlikely to help him in these dealings. As Martin Brundle pointed out in commentary, Lewis has a mindset that looks to blame everybody but himself in these situations. It is a mindset that will need to be dealt with for the sake of Lewis' career.

But wait a minute. I'm not doing very well at this fighting talk lark. I'm meant to be defending Lewis - not adding to the criticisms. Luckily for me, the challenge was to claim that Lewis had a point. I only need to find one aspect of what he said that made some sense, and I can find two.

The first is so obvious that it leaves no room for argument. Lewis was asked how he felt. That his comments were an accurate description of how he felt is beyond dispute. They may not have been the best thought through comments ever made in a post race interview, but they were brutally honest. In an age when we can predict most of the words that are about to come out of a drivers mouth at any given time, there was a refreshing quality to hearing a driver speak his mind. Toeing the party line has become a skill that most drivers are as adept at as they are at driving their cars. Corporate sponsors need to be satisfied and that means giving safe, banal answers to any question faced. Don't rock the boat (especially at Monaco - its a deep harbour!).

David Coulthard has warned that we (both fans, and in particular the media) cannot have it both ways. We long for drivers to give honest, insightful answers to questions. We want the low down on what is really going on. However, when we receive those insights and honest feedback we are quick to criticise when the answers are not politically correct. Despite some of the comments being inadvisable, we should at least appreciate the honesty of his answers. Don't expect it to last though. The reaction to his comments will probably ensure that Lewis will be playing it safe from now on. Expect the remainder of the season to be filled with Lewis Hamilton making Kimi Raikonen's interviews look exciting!

The other, perhaps more significant, area where Lewis had a point is in the general concept that fans want to see overtaking and wheel to wheel racing. We do not want to see processions of cars lapping our racing circuits. It is of course in Lewis' interest to promote this style of racing as it is where he excels. However, this does not dilute the point.

The response to this year's rule changes, which have undoubtedly led to more overtaking and excitement, has been very positive. Increased overtaking opportunities inevitably lead to the more exciting drivers, such as Hamilton, being involved in more incidents. Hamilton's aggression is part of what makes him such an exciting driver. There is no doubt that this adds to the spectacle on offer. However, it is also a risky strategy. At times it will win him races - at others it will cost him races. This is no different than it is for 'boring' safety first drivers. At times their desire to avoid incidents will cost them races when they miss opportunities for success. At other times it will win them races as others fall away in front of them. This is just part and parcel of racing.

Monaco, however, is unique. It presents a dilemma to the Formula 1 world. If the circuit was removed from its location, it would never be allowed a place on the racing calendar. It fails in terms of safety, track length and overtaking opportunities. However, it is not removed from its location. This is Monaco and it is special. Nobody wants to see it removed from the calendar. The place is steeped in motor racing history and has a special place in any Formula 1 fan's heart. And there is the dilemma.

We want exciting races, but we also want safe races. As a result of this rules have been drawn up that stewards must follow to decide what is safe racing and what is not. These rules, while not perfect, work well at every circuit - every circuit except Monaco! At Monaco no overtaking manoeuvres are risk free. There is no point on the circuit where two evenly matched cars, on the same lap, can pass without risk of incident. Each overtake relies upon both drivers co-operating to avoid incident. Everytime a driver attempts an overtake they risk causing a collision. These collisions would certainly be avoidable as the driver could have chosen not to overtake. Nobody wants to see a race where the only passing takes place in the pit lane though.

Lewis Hamilton is able to claim some moral high ground on this point. Despite the fact that he is an extremely competitive racer, he allowed Micheal Schumacher room when overtaken at the hairpin. Yes, contact was made - but it was not even an incident that required consideration from the stewards. It can be argued that the only difference between that manoeuvre and the manoeuvre Hamilton attempted on Massa was the room given by the other car. I am not arguing that Massa was in the wrong - he wasn't. However, perhaps it is time for the stewards to adopt a more flexible approach to Monaco.

We are already more than happy to offer an element of leeway when it comes to other aspects such as safety or track layout. Why not offer some leeway in what qualifies as a racing incident? I am not pretending to have the answers to this dilemma. We want to see racing, yet we don't want to see a race where only a few cars avoid being knocked off the track. Lewis Hamilton's outburst may not have provided any answers to this dilemma either, but he definately had a point in raising the question.

Jump! How high?

So, who has booked their place in the Olympic Stadium next summer? It’s a question many of us will have been pondering in recent weeks, eager to find out whether we have struck lucky in the ballot and placed successful ticket applications. It’s not often that you wait in hopeful expectation of seeing your bank balance decimated, but that’s precisely what most of us have been doing of late – “What, still no exorbitant charge has hit my account?! Come on Lord Coe, take my money goddamit!”

In theory we should now know by now. Perhaps not the precise details such as which sports, which days, which venues and which seats – have some patience people, this is a big event after all – but at least whether we have got tickets to something. In reality I think it’s going to take a little bit longer to get clear on even that, but at least within the next month or so we should all know our destinies.

If the ticketing experience has felt slightly drawn-out, spare a thought for the athletes themselves: they will have to wait a fair while longer before knowing whether they have managed to book their place in the stadium next summer.

Quite fittingly, the day the application process for tickets closed back in April was the same day the Olympic selection policy for track and field athletes from Great Britain and Northern Ireland was published by the sport’s governing body, UKA. If the last minute scramble to get applications in as the website crashed seems like a life-time ago now, you can be sure that for many athletes themselves the intervening time will have sped by: with the selection policy crystallising the task ahead of them in order to earn a place in TeamGB, the time to achieve the required marks and criteria will have started to start feel preciously short for more than just a few of the Olympic hopefuls.

Many reading this may view the selection policy as an irrelevance. You don’t need to read or understand it to be confident that, all things going to plan, athletes such as Jessica Ennis and Phillips Idowu will be lining up to go for gold in London. But dig a little deeper beyond the household names and you’ll uncover a whole host of fascinating stories, sub-plots and rivalries.

At the heart of most of these stories are relatively modest people with extraordinary dreams of being an Olympian in London. And with lives and careers put on hold and families and friends bled dry of money and favours in order to pursue their goals, understanding the selection policy suddenly matters to the aspiring athletes. As it was with the ticketing process, the hope and expectation for the selection process is relatively simple: that it is clear, transparent, and, above all, provides everyone with a fair crack of the whip. As we now well know, there are some doubts as to whether the ticketing process has stood up to these criteria. Will the selection process fair any better?

On the face of it, selection for athletics teams should be relatively straight forward given the objective nature of times, distances and heights. However, previous selection controversies would suggest it’s most certainly not foolproof.

Typically the issues emerge along two fault lines. The first is how to decide between two athletes with competing claims for selection where there is only one spot in an event left remaining. Who do you take? The athlete who has performed averagely all season but has pulled out one amazing performance to place them high up the rankings and demonstrate great potential; or the athlete who is slightly lower-ranked but who has a far better head-to-head record? The relative merits of each approach can be debated ad nauseum, with strong arguments and counter-arguments easily presented. In reality, this only becomes an issue in the few cases where the UK will have more than three ‘world-class’ athletes who have exceeded the ‘A’ qualification standard. Where this is the case, the published process reveals that this will be handled as for previous events: the top two athletes in the Olympic trials will automatically be selected and the third athlete will be selected at the discretion of the selectors, with some guidelines for how this will be judged. Invariably this will lead to some disappointment, but I struggle to see a better solution. Some have argued that the ruthless US style of first-three-past-the-post in the trials should be used to get around the issue of subjectivity for that third spot. It shouldn’t. Relatively few events are affected in this way and for a country like the UK – unlike the USA – where genuine medal chances are few and far between, it’s important to retain the ‘insurance policy’ that will allow some athletes to be selected regardless of their performance (or potential non-appearance) at the trials event.

The second area of controversy is whether to fill a spot at all, even if there are qualified athletes. At the last Olympics in Beijing, as well as at other major championships in recent years, a number of athletes were left at home despite having fulfilled the criteria laid out by the IOC or IAAF. This was on the basis that, while they had achieved the minimum qualifying standards, they were not deemed to be truly competitive by UKA at the relevant championship level. Indeed, the trend in recent years has been increasingly to ‘raise the bar’ in terms of standards, forcing athletes to push themselves harder and to meet more stringent qualifying criteria before being considered for selection. Reading the 2012 selection policy it is not clear which way UKA will go in this regard – certainly it would appear to indicate that someone in possession of a solitary ‘B’ standard is unlikely to make the cut.

This time around, I feel that would be a mistake. There are strong arguments for why it should be the case – a winning mentality in the camp is better preserved through a smaller, more elite team undiluted by people just pleased to be there being one which is typically presented and which may have some legitimacy – but, for reasons I’m not sure I can explain, an ‘exclusionist’ policy just doesn’t quite seem right. I envisage the Games being a festival and based on what we are hearing about the ticketing demand, it appears that even the athletics qualification sessions are going to be packed to the rafters. The fans will want British athletes in British vests in as many events as possible and will cheer loudly during every heat and for every jump and throw. It is not rewarding mediocrity to include athletes who will do well to make it through the first round: their achievement in reaching that level is still immense. For the long-term health of the sport – which in my view only benefits from having active Olympians across as many events as possible – as well as the excitement to be created at Games time in a packed Olympic stadium, I really hope that size of TeamGB is maximised.

There is of course a third issue in relation to selection – what to do with people who have served drug bans, such as Dwain Chambers. But let’s leave that for another day…