Peter Moores, the England coach, does exactly what he is told to do by the TV crew and comes with a candid and well-judged interview, writes Ted Corbett.
July 7: What a wonderful weekend for British sport. Louis Hamilton wins the British Grand Prix by a minute and five hours later we are still in the dark — pun absolutely intended — about the result of that magnificent Wimble don final between Roger Federer and Rafa Nadal. Justin Rose, a tip in this very column 10 years ago, leads the European golf championship, Graham Napier lays waste to the Yorkshire attack to prove that his blitz on Sussex is no fluke — and hits his 23rd six in two innings — and a bright young 14-year-old called Laura Robson wins the girls’ title at Wimbledon and demands a dinner date with Marat Safin who most politely declines. And then in marches good old fumbling, bumbling English cricket and presents the world with an image beyond common sense. It seems Yorkshire play a lad called Azeem Rafiq, once the England under-15 captain, in their Twenty20 match against Notts and somehow the paperwork is botched. He is not eligible but Yorkshire’s place against Durham in the quarterfinals depends on the result and — not just at the last minute but after the crowd sit waiting for the start — the game is postponed. The damage to the game’s image is enormous. Spectators will have a refund for their tickets, but what about their travel costs? And there can be no refund on the tiny hint that cricket cannot organise a party in a pub.
July 8: In my drive to find the nice guys in cricket I spend all day and half the night watching television and overhear a conversation between umpire Peter Hartley and a batsman just completing what the crowd imagine to be a leg bye. “Did you get some bat on that?” asks Hartley. “Yes, I did,” is the reply. “All right,” says Hartley and puts the hand that is poised to signal a leg bye back in his pocket. That is the way cricket in this country deals with its problems for a century or two and so I make Peter Hartley one of the nice guys for continuing that tradition.
July 9: While Kevin Pietersen is making his colourful century at Lord’s a small group of former players gather at Trent Bridge, where Pietersen begins his career in this country, to celebrate the most famous feat by Gary Sobers, just about the finest all-rounder who ever lives. It is 50 years later next month since he hits six sixes in an over bowled by Malcolm Nash. Sobers does not know it as he strikes the ball miles into an adjacent road but the press box is empty at the time. Well, tea is about to be held so I suppose the local reporters reckon they are in for a quiet few minutes. Now the full details are to be reviewed in a Welsh radio programme and the Notts players who are closely connected with this historic event manage to tell their side of the story despite the passage of so many years. How do they remember Sobers all these years later? “A great man,” says one of them. “He makes life so simple. If you are batting with him all you have to remember is that you must not run him out.”
July 10: The ECB disciplinary committee saves the face of the collective masters by drumming Yorkshire out of the Twenty20 competition. As I write Yorkshire are planning an appeal, Nottinghamshire are given a place in the quarterfinal against Durham and Glamorgan, who also think they have a claim to a quarterfinal, already raise a protest. The disgrace of Yorkshire is difficult to take for long term supporters like me. Once they are the greatest county side in anyone’s orbit. Now they are asked to leave a competition because they field an ineligible player. Odd, too, that the local paper is so disenchanted with cricket in a county that lives, breathes and cherishes the game still, that they have their man at Lord’s rather than covering the biggest story in the county’s recent history.
July 11: A whole bunch of the famous and notorious visit the press box high above the best known ground in the world. There is Rory Bremner, the comedian and mimic, the South African author Andre Odendaal, best known for his history of apartheid, and Vincent van der Bijl, also a South African who helped Middlesex win the championship and the Gillette Cup — a 60 overs knock-out cup — in 1981. The biggest coup by BBC’s Test Match Special is to have David Cameron, the leader of the opposition in the House of Commons, behind the microphone for a spell of not-too-serious commentary. “He’s a lot of fun,” says Jon Agnew, the chief commentator. Just as well to know because he may be Prime Minister in a couple of years. So “does he know his cricket?” Agnew is very gracious. “Ish,” he says, a posh way of saying “yes, but not at a high level.” Can he run the country? We will see.
July 12: A friend of mine finds he has a nasty disease but thanks to the careful intervention of a doctor from Nepal he is fit and well again and very grateful. During the course of his treatment he discovers this doctor is a cricket fan with a big interest in Twenty20 games. Well, no one is perfect. My friend persuades the doctor that a day out at Lord’s for one of the world Twenty20 games is a perfect way to enjoy life and asks me to get him tickets. Lord’s give me a web address and a phone number but my friend, an old-fashioned man, prefers tickets bought from a person rather than a voice and asks me to buy them for him. But, no, this is not possible. “For the first time in our history,” says the media lady at Lord’s, “we are staging a match for which we have no control over the tickets. I am afraid you will have to go online or phone.” It is not just a question of how skilful you are with a keyboard but the cost seems to rise every time you try to buy. Is this method really necessary? I suggest not.
July 13: Television interviews are not always quite what they seem. Last night Mark Nicholas is waiting for Stuart Broad to say his piece when word comes that Broad is having a massage and will take some time. But Channel Five do not have much time before their highlights package goes out. Nicholas turns round and sees Peter Moores, the coach, walking past. “Hey, Peter, step into the breach and help us out. Put down that water bottle, and leave that towel with the production assistant; yes and turn slightly to your left and we will be filming in five.” Not only does Moores do exactly what he is told but comes across with a bright, candid and well-judged interview and, standing still just as he is told, smiles as Nicholas makes his farewells. Oh, the blessings of media training.
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