Neunundneunzig runs

When it comes to batting tragedies (or comedies, or tragi-comedies, take your pick) there is nothing quite like a 99. The first one I ever saw was the one inflicted on Javed Miandad. I still remember the fielder: Srikkanth. But not the bowler (Cricinfo tells me it was Madan Lal!). In those days, Miandad was quite a favorite of mine, and I was keen to see him get his ton. He dithered in the 90s, got stuck on 99, and then incredibly, was gone, to a scooped-off-the-shoelaces catch by Cheeka. I had heard about 99s but didn't think I would ever see one or that it would happen to a batsman whose success I was invested in (a few years later, I would have rejoiced on seeing Miandad dismissed on 99).

Since then, incredibly, I've never seen a 99 live again in test cricket. I've seen plenty on highlights I missed Ricky Ponting's 99 last year against South Africa because I was called away for a cup of tea by my sis-in-law. I was visiting India at the time and a beautiful Delhi morning beckoned. I wasn't feeling too fond of Ricky at that time so there is a good chance I would have cheered.

For a good example of the kind of reaction that a 99 dismissal can engender, check out this one from the now-sadly-defunct Outside the Line. What made Ponting's dismissal particularly catastrophic was that he had scored 101 in the first innings. Still, a nice round 200 for the game. Not a bad return, and one that every single batsman in the world would envy.

I have, however, borne witness to a Tendulkar 99, which was a pretty painful experience. (If I remember correctly, it was one of the three he picked up in one-day internationals in 2007, probably against England).

The most painful 99 for me, however, was one I read about in a newspaper: Kim Hughes' dismissal against England in the non-Ashes series of 1979-80. I'll never forget the horror of that morning. I had eagerly run out to get the paper to check the first day's scores and still remember thinking there must have been a mistake when I read the score. It turned out to be a match-winning score, because without his 99 out of a first-innings 244, Australia would have been in much worse shape in that game. But that was no consolation for me. My hero had come so close and yet had been cruelly denied. (Someday I need to write a post about my Kim Hughes obsession, which would put my reaction into some perspective.)

So, how do I feel about the Pietersen dismissal yesterday? Strangely indifferent. There was a time when KP did get under my skin and my reactions might have been akin to those of DS Henry's above. But KP has become more human recently, perhaps lost a bit of his swagger and so concomitantly has lost his ability to get under my skin as well. Schadenfreude isn't that much fun in those circumstances. Still, bully for the Bangers; it must have lifted their spirits a bit.

Kim Hughes: Golden Boy

A review of Christian Ryan's book, Golden Boy: Kim Hughes and the Bad Old Days of Australian Cricket is up at Different Strokes.

Why like Freddie?

Over at the Guardian, Lawrence Booth has an interesting piece on Andrew Flintoff in an attempt to establish a “The Emperor Has No Clothes” thesis (to wit, he hasn’t been in great form since 2005, and in fact, England have a better win-loss record when he doesn’t play).

Just a few days ago, I had noted that Flintoff was the first English cricketer since Botham and Gower to lay claim to my loyalty and affection. And Tifosi Guy had shown up to make claims similar to those of Lawrence.

So I think I’m compelled at this point to say something more about why I said what I did. Well, its not really that complicated. We all like cricketers whose numbers indicate they aren’t very talented or that they are not doing justice to whatever talent they do have. Carl Hooper might fall into the latter category for instance. And perhaps Kim Hughes falls into the first (for some Aussie fans who absolutely despise him, though for me he falls into the latter). Sometimes it’s hard to tell the difference – is “talent” after all, part of being able to make use of your skills? And so on.

But I think it can be made even simpler. We just like watching some cricketers – and it doesn’t matter for how long they are in the middle, or how well they do out there, whether numerically or otherwise. Quite simply, by the way they play or try to play, they bring us pleasure. Sometimes it’s because they play one shot which we replay again and again in our heads. Or perhaps it’s because they, to use a cliché, try their hearts out. Or sometimes it’s because they represent something else that we’ve been hankering for; like, for instance, a fan tired of the silly sledging wars between India and Australia, might take a shine to a honest journeyman who does his bit, keeps a low profile, and doesn’t get caught up in all the nastiness.

I think this is how my “affection” for Flintoff might be best understood. I enjoy watching him bowl; he tries hard, he is hostile most of the time; he often represents a wicket-taking threat even if he doesn’t always get one; because he is a talisman for the Barmy Army, his presence fires up the crowds as well; and when he gets stuck into the opposition, he doesn’t descend into nastiness, but manages to walk a fine line between aggression and humor. What’s not to like? The fact that his numbers are mediocre is simply irrelevant for me.

I watch cricket matches for a lot of reasons. One of them is to be transported, to get the feeling that I’m watching something out of the ordinary. And if some player shows up and promises that, I’m willing to forgive his failures, or at least, make more allowances for him. It might be that Flintoff’s best days are over. It’s entirely possible. His ankle injury, the failed captaincy stint, the tensions with KP, all of these might have just added up to too much. But right now, even as he plays, he threatens, and no one takes him lightly. And sometimes the presence of the threat can be enough to make his presence on the field enjoyable for the fan like me. I used the word “affection” advisedly; it’s not an entirely rational emotion. (And as for "loyalty" I like to see him get out as soon as possible when he plays India)