Mike Atherton, not the batsman to go around inventing new shots when he can use a forward defensive stroke, says that he misjudges Pietersen who he thinks is “not the sharpest tool in the box” but who is helping to redefine the way we think about the game, writes Ted Corbett.
June 16: We hold a big party at our house and drink a couple of magnums of champagne for a significant birthday in November and since then I win a couple more magnums, most recently by showing my skill and knowledge in forecasting the aggregate score in the one-day match at Chester-le-Street. Happiness all round but a few minutes after the presentation ceremony I am walking out of the ground with the bottle tucked in the crook of my elbow — and, I have to admit, acknowledging the cheers of admiring onlookers — when we run into a phalanx of security men at the exit gate. Why they wish to impede spectators on their way out no one can tell me but one demands to know “is there alcohol in that bottle.” I tell him I hope so and that I just win it in a competition. Instead of congratulating me he calls his boss who threatens to confiscate the bottle. “There are policemen watching and we cannot allow them to see that there is alcohol in the ground,” he says. My quick-witted friend grabs the bottle and stuffs it under her raincoat and the boss, says: “OK, then, off you go.” As one may speak to a boy you find stealing apples. Later Durham apologise and the sponsors NatWest express their regrets.
June 17: Kevin Pietersen’s switch hits for six are the talk of the town. There is a lot of negative debate about how unfair it is to bowlers, an esoteric discussion on whether it is possible for the umpires to give an lbw decision because no one is sure which is the leg side and the problems involved with a number of fielders behind square on the leg side. It just so happens that an MCC committee is due to talk about this problem and they issue a statement which not only says the stroke is perfectly legal but suggest it is exciting and good for the game. Well, well, if the men from the 18th century approve it must be all right. Mike Atherton, not the batsman to go around inventing new shots when he can use a forward defensive stroke, says in his new clothes as cricket correspondent of The Times that he misjudges Pietersen who he thinks is “not the sharpest tool in the box” but who is helping to redefine the way we think about the game. The academic — MA Cambs and all that — Atherton concludes: “That in itself is a definition of greatness.”
June 18: The devil makes play for idle hands, we say in the days when work on a tabloid is less than all-consuming so I feel I know everything that is necessary to solve the problems posed by Kevin Pietersen’s switch. Having seen some thousands of replays of the shots I note how clearly the middle stump is to be seen between the batsman’s legs. I suggest that the sight will enthral a professional footballer and that he will push the ball between his opponent’s legs to achieve what they call a “nutmeg.” It is wide open for a bowler to do the same and produce a nutmeg ball as soon as he sees Pietersen move. I put the idea to an England bowler who nods thoughtfully and rushes off, presumably to practise this novel approach.
June 19: Three cricket writers lay claim to the title of the nicest men in cricket, no doubt in response to my suggestion that there are very few. As soon as this summer ends Colin Bateman of the Daily Express, David Lloyd of The Standard and Ian Todd, the now retired former cricket correspondent of The Sun, will cycle round the country to raise money for two charities — one set up by Matthew Engel, twice editor of Wisden, when his son Laurie dies of cancer. Their ride is nominally from Lord’s to the Oval but they will visit every major county ground on the way and expect to cover 2,000 miles in three weeks and raise up to £2,000. It’s a noble idea and a contradiction to those who think that reporters have no soul. I wish them well, particularly when Colin Bateman — we are friends since the David Gower tour of India back in 1985 — tells me that he cycles from Chester-le-Street to Hawes — a mid-point in their journey — where I go to school. “Beautiful part of the world,” he says. “Not in winter when the snow is driven along, often parallel to the ground, by 60 mile an hour gales,” I say with a shiver. I hope it is not like that in September because these nice lads deserve a sunny ride through the Yorkshire Dales.
June 20: The best time is now. I think that as I watch — not for the first time — Tiger Woods win the U.S. Open golf, in pain and with style. That makes 14 majors and he is not yet 33. Heaven alone knows what he will leave as a legacy for the next generation except for a memory of his greatness and for me a marvel that in a long life I see the best of sport. Mohammad Ali, the most-gifted boxer, yet courageous in his political stances; Brian Lara, the finest batsman the world has seen, even if he cannot equal Don Bradman’s figures; Bob Beamon, leaping from here to eternity, Bobby Charlton, moving through the late years of his career “like a Rolls Royce with 200,000 miles on the clock.” I wish that is my phrase or that I can remember who first writes such a wonderful tribute. So I have no regrets that I never see The Don or Larwood or Wilfred Rhodes; only that I cannot ask Jesse Owens what motivates his defiance of Hitler; as if I cannot guess. You will notice how many of these athletes are black which brings me, two years after his death, back to Fred Trueman, another cricketer who has the touch of genius. “Wonderful thing sport,” he says. “Fifty years ago 40 men chasing a black American is a lynching. Today it is golf.” Never mind the jokes, let us hope that the Tiger makes a quick recovery from his knee problems and returns to complete our enjoyment of a magnificent career.
June 21: Clearly there is a difference between the traditionalists who think that only Tests are worth watching, understand the nuances of every law and believe that there ought to be compulsory life sentences for anyone who plays with a cross bat and the happy-go-lucky souls who take their young sons to a Twenty20 match and shout at the top of their voices. A steward sums it all up this way: “Spectators at Twenty20 games do not fill in scorecards.”
June 22: Finally, it is good to see that ICC react to all the criticism of the umpires who fail to wring a result from the second one-day match and allow a 10-minute interval when rain interrupts play. Perhaps they will now address such subjects as Twenty20, ICL and IPL, Sir Allen Stanford’s many millions and what the future holds for a game that is close to anarchy.
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