The CricInfo years: 1999-2000

In 1999 I turned 40. It seemed as venerable then as it does youthful now. I had lived in New Zealand for two years, a big jump that had paid off royally. It was time to take another. I resigned from my teaching job to have a go at making my living more creatively, particularly through writing.

I bought a computer, complete with TV-sized monitor, and connected it to the new wonder of the time, the internet. My email address was simply my initials, pph@... There are plenty of things in my past that show how much the world has changed in my lifetime. When I was a child I had measles. Learning to drive involved mastering the choke if you wanted the car to start on a cold morning. And, when I moved to New Zealand in 1997, if I wanted to know how Kent had got on overnight I had either to ring my mother and wait for her to find the right page on Ceefax or hold fast for 24 hours for the potted scores in the New Zealand Herald. The full scorecard was not available until the following Thursday when I would buy (and in itself this shows how a desperation for information can erode all standards of decency) the international edition of the Daily Express.

So the first website I looked at was CricInfo. I had heard about this. A place where you could access the latest scores of matches around the world, sometimes ball-by-ball as they were played and run by cricket enthusiasts much like myself. It was almost time travel. I noted that the daily global email newsletter contained little or no New Zealand content and saw an opportunity as I strove to conjure up a freelance existence.

Over the next few months I sent in articles on domestic cricket such as regular round-ups of domestic matches, relying heavily on the comprehensive radio coverage then (but no longer) provided by Radio Sport. Of the pieces that survive online, the earliest is this one, an untypical contribution putting the possibility of an Indian victory after a low first innings score in the test match being played at Chandigarh in historical context. It may be surmised that the bar for accepting contributions was set barely off the ground. There is also a piece reflecting the “outrage”, real or imagined, of the South Island at being denied international fixtures in the forthcoming season. 

The West Indians toured in December and January. I submitted a preview. They were to play New Zealand A at Owen Delany Park, Taupo, an hour south of Rotorua where I lived. My offer to provide a daily report (unpaid, as was all my work that summer) was accepted. So began my career as a cricket reporter. In the following years I joined the rest of the media in the press area at the back of the stand at Owen Delany Park, and was appreciative of the free lunch, perhaps the finest on the circuit. But in December ‘99 I was unaccredited and still apprehensive about masquerading as a journalist in the company of professionals, so I wrote from the anonymity of a garden chair on the grass bank that surrounded most of the field. The same diffidence inhibited me from approaching Viv Richards, briefly West Indies’ coach, when he paused close by as he prowled the boundary. I was yet to appreciate the credibility, deserved or otherwise, that a byline could bestow.

“Wrote” is a precise description too. Wifi was not in anybody’s vocabulary and laptops were as exotic and expensive as they were unreliable, so the reports were compiled with pen on paper, constructed in fragments during the day, and stitched together in the last hour, the aim being for the last full stop to coincide with the final delivery of the day. Then it was into the car for the drive against the clock back home, where I would key the piece into Word, click on the internet connection, hoping for the reassuring four notes followed by white noise, and off it would go at 56kb/s, if I was lucky. Several hours later the daily CricInfo newsletter would make the return journey with my name over the report. I found this unreasonably exciting. Each day’s report is still listed on CricInfo but all the links lead to that for the second day (which reads as if it is incomplete). They were also carried by the Barbados Nation, whose reply to my invoice I still await. 

The match was dominated by a double hundred by Shiv Chanderpaul. It was not so much the work of an artist as that of an efficient painter of walls and ceilings. Of batters since, only Steve Smith has equalled Chanderpaul in scoring massive amounts of runs in such an aesthetically unsatisfying manner. 

It was a pleasure to once again watch Courtney Walsh, having done so throughout his Gloucestershire years. With the possible exception of his predecessor Mike Procter, nobody has offered more value as an overseas player than Walsh. There is an excellent interview with him in the latest County Cricket Matters by the wonderful Annie Chave (subscribe if you haven’t already). He speaks of the value to West Indian cricket that the county game offered and of his enjoyment of the “family” of Gloucestershire. Another time. 

I watched most of the first test, played in Hamilton just before Christmas, though I wasn’t reporting. It was a good match, mostly remembered for the statistical anomoly of the highest first-wicket partnership for a losing team: 276 by Adrian Griffiths and Sherwin Campbell in the first innings. That this was so was largely down to Chris Cairns. He top-scored with 72 in the first innings, coming in at No 8 with New Zealand 107 behind, out when the lead had been achieved. This was followed by one of the finest bowling performances in test cricket for this country: seven for 27 to rout West Indies for 97 to set up a comfortable nine-wicket victory. Cairns is the forgotten man of New Zealand’s cricket history, but is our greatest all-rounder, capable of seizing any match of whatever format and transforming it with bat or ball, or, in this case, both.

The only other match that wrote a report on that summer was the second of five ODIs against the visiting England women in Hamilton, once again composed from a garden chair on the bank followed by a foot-down drive back to Rotorua and more frantic typing. 

The best thing that has happened to cricket in the intervening quarter-century is the revolution in the funding and status of women’s cricket. There was no TV coverage of this series and radio coverage, at a time when there was extensive commentary on men’s domestic matches in New Zealand, was limited to brief reports. There was no English media presence (apart from me, I suppose). Women’s cricket was making its first tentative steps into the professional era. England had Paul Farbrace and Graham Dilley as coaches. I had come across New Zealand’s bowler of the day, Rachel Pullar, a year or so before when she and Chris Harris visited the school I was teaching at, both employed to run a series of coaching sessions, one of the first opportunities that women players had to earn a living within the game (and showing that the men were not rolling in it either). Pullar and Harris were both superb, by the way. None of those playing in Hamilton that day would get rich from playing cricket at that time. 

Both teams had suffered a clean sweep in ODIs in Australia before this series. England’s response was to change captains mid-tour, reportedly in response to a threatened mutiny against Karen Smithies, who quit, handing over to Clare Connor. My most prominent memory of that game in Hamilton is not of the play, but Smithies walking a lonely, forlorn circuit of the ground having been dropped from the playing XI. New Zealand’s resounding win was the fourth in a five-match sweep, led by Emily Drumm, one of those leaders who you could tell was in charge from her demeanour even if you were looking down from space. Drumm, together with her predecessor as skipper Debbie Hockley, were among the initial inductees to the New Zealand Cricket Hall of Fame recently. She led New Zealand to victory in the World Cup later in 2000, a team that contained eight of the players in the XI at Hamilton. 

The other international visitors that season were the Australians, who played three tests, six ODIs and two other first-class games. I did not report on any of these contests, but did provide a preview or two, which have not survived on CricInfo’s database. Chris Rosie, a very nice guy who had recently retired from the New Zealand Herald, but who had not been a sportswriter, covered the test series and the game against Northern Districts, but there are no reports on the ODIs. Apparently, it did not occur to me to offer to write reports while watching the TV coverage. Not the done thing at all. Now (and starting only two or three years after that) most CricInfo content is written by people watching the telly.

I was there for most of the test match and provincial game at Seddon Park, Hamilton (though it was then masquerading as WestPac Park). By the turn of the century warm-up games for tourists had lost their allure in most parts of the world. When we lament their disappearance from the schedule it should be remembered that the failure of home teams to provide the best available opposition was a factor in their decline. Not so in New Zealand at that time. Northern Districts put out their strongest team, one that contained nine past,  present or future internationals. Justin Langer and Damien Martyn put on 197 to set up a comfortable five-wicket win. 

Two memories from that game. Brett Lee, presumably at the receiving end of an untypically churlish remark from one of the batters, went “through the crease” and unleashed one of his thunderbolts from about three yards short of the traditional 22. Colin “Funky” Miller, he of the electric blue hair, bowled off spin to the left-handers and seam up to the right-handers, swapping as many times as was necessary in the course of an over. Maybe this was not unprecedented; but it would have taken a Sobers or Barnes to do it, and it was the first time I had seen it. 

Australia returned to Hamilton a few weeks later with the series already in the bag after two wins. Though culturally disinclined to remove the foot from the Kiwi  throat, they teetered at 29 for five in reply to New Zealand’s first innings 232. Adam Gilchrist was next in and ignored completely the constraints that the situation would conventionally impose. His 75—64 of them in boundaries—took just 80 balls, secured a first-innings lead and provided the basis of Australia’s for a six-wicket win. Bazball is really Gillyball recycled. McGrath and Lee took 14 of New Zealand’s wickets between them and Langer made another Hamilton century. 

In May 2000, Dave Crowe, father of Martin and Jeff, passed away. He was the New Zealand correspondent of The Cricketer at the time, so, with my freelancer’s instinct to sniff out possible work overcoming natural reticence, I emailed the magazine to offer my services. They replied thanking me for my message, saying that they were wondering why they hadn’t received Crowe’s copy for the next edition. Bryan Waddle was appointed as his successor. However, the dotcom boom was on and CricInfo was taking a greater interest in New Zealand…

Sri Lanka Shivers

 New Zealand v Sri Lanka, ODI, Basin Reserve, 5 January 2025

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Mrs Scorecards is in Toronto, Canada on grandma duty. The temperature rarely pokes its head above freezing point there at this time of year. Yesterday, a blanket that she put out to dry moulded itself into the shape of the chair it was placed upon, an instant ice sculpture. Yet, it would be valid to have a conversation about whether it would have been less pleasant watching cricket there or at the Basin Reserve for this ODI. The New Zealand summer, often a hard dog to keep on the porch, has absconded completely over the holiday period. Elsewhere on the North Island there has been fresh snow on both Mt Taranaki and the Desert Road, which should not happen at this time of year. 

Readers concerned for the welfare of My Life in Cricket Scorecards need not be. I was in the safety and warmth of the Long Room, along with all other sensible people. I did not share the view of my Petone and Brooklyn correspondents—the Scott and Oates of the Basin Reserve—that true supporters should put their lives on the line in the cause of sport by facing the southerly in the RA Vance Stand.

Williamson and Conway were both absent from the New Zealand team, giving preference to playing in the South African T20 franchise competition. It might seem odd that New Zealand Cricket is being so indulgent as to permit this, but we do not have the cash in the quantities needed to purchase the exclusivity of all the top players. They have done a good job of ensuring that key players are available for much of the time. Both Williamson and Conway will be available for all New Zealand’s cricket for the rest of this year. Of the other players not on full NZC contracts, only Lockie Ferguson might have been selected if not at the BBL. Tom Latham was injured, so Canterbury’s Mitch Hay took the gloves, and so was one of the few on the field or in the stands to retain feeling in his fingers throughout the game. 

Mitch Santner, now New Zealand’s captain in white-ball cricket, put Sri Lanka in, a decision that paid off to the extent of 23 for four after ten overs. For most of the sixty or so years of the limited-overs era, in this situation  the orthodoxy would have been to treat the innings like a first-class game in the hope that sufficient wickets would remain for a dash at the end. 

Here, the first ball of the eleventh over was pulled to the boundary by Avishka Fernando off Henry, caution excised from cricket’s dictionary. The approach was not reckless, but was underpinned by an acceptance that a gritty score fewer than 200 will not win a one-day game, so a level of risk that kept the boundaries coming was acceptable. 

It seemed to be working, for a time. Fernando and Liyanage put on 87 for the fifth wicket in 15 overs, but the last five wickets could muster only 68 between them, just over half of which came from Hasaranga, the only batter to exceed a run-a-ball strike rate. 

Any template for a report on a New Zealand match might as well include the phrase “Matt Henry bowled superbly”. Here, he finished with four for 19, with a combination of pace, movement and consistently putting the ball where the batter least wanted it. A word in favour too of Duffy and Smith, both of whom had to run into the gale, something that would probably be illegal if you made an animal do it. It is good to see both these players doing well after impressing in domestic cricket over several seasons. 

The New Zealand fielding was good too, which it has not always been in recent times. Of particular note were three catches from skyers, all tricky with the wind blowing the ball about like a leaf in autumn. 

Some of the Sri Lankans would never have experienced cold like they felt at the Basin. The wind made their trousers flap like flags at the top of a hill, and the interval between their hands emerging from pockets before, and being thrust back in after, the bowler delivered had become imperceptible by the end of the match. There was a rare consensus in the body language of fielders, spectators and even umpires that the sooner it was over the better. It pretty soon was, the target of 179 reached in the 27th over.

Will Young opened and batted throughout, finishing with a faultless 90 at a little over a run a ball. It was a reassuring, calming performance, though it reminded us of how much we had missed him at the recent test match against England when he was omitted despite having been player of the victorious series in India. There should be no question about his inclusion in the XI for the Champions Trophy. 

Rachin Ravindra batted like a billionaire, but a generous one who tips extravagantly, as he did when giving a catch to deepish square leg when well set on 45 from 36 balls. On the TV highlights it was said that he timed the ball too well, a problem that only the finest players have.

Mark Chapman accompanied Young to see New Zealand home, and it was hot soup all round to celebrate. 

Both the remaining games in the three-match series were won by wide margins: New Zealand by 113 runs at Seddon Park, and a consolation 140-run victory for Sri Lanka at Eden  Park. It was good to be watching men’s ODI cricket once more, even if there was a feel of a repertory company doing a final tour with the stars already left for Hollywood. 

Sutherland Triumphs in the Southerly

 New Zealand v Australia, 50 overs, Basin Reserve, 21 & 23 December 2024

21 December

23 December

The intention was to laud the world champions. This was New Zealand’s first appearance at home since their surprise victory in the World T20 in Dubai in October, and it was appropriate for it to be at the Basin, home ground of the captain, Sophie Devine and player of the tournament Melie Kerr. And laud the world champions we did, but it was the 50-over title holders Australia  that attracted the praise as they confirmed their vast superiority in the longer form of the game. 

This was no surprise. Before the three-match series began, the RA Vance Pessimists agreed that the best chance of home success rested in the Wellington weather, always a capricious presence. As we saw it, there was next-to-no chance of New Zealand winning two matches against the green-and-gold juggernaut, but if the capital’s resident tempest were to wash away two of the games, there would be a chance that they could abscond with the other, particularly if the southerly could roar in and impose temperatures that the Australians had experienced only in the walk-in beer fridges that feature in some Australasian supermarkets. 

It was a strategy that had promise when the first game was abandoned at an early stage. Indeed, had the rain come ten overs earlier it would have accounted for the second too, but when it arrived it was like a boxing referee intervening to declare that the contest was over through being too one-sided. 

Australia were put in by Sophie Devine. For the greater part of the innings it appeared to be a good decision. Though all the top seven attained double figures, wickets kept falling. At 211 for six after 41 overs it seemed possible that the target might be a tough-but-gettable 250-260. 

But Annabel Sutherland was still there. At that point she had 47 from 52 deliveries, and continued to be measured but untroubled for a further five overs, at which point she had 63 from 64. New Zealand could have thought that they were in the race only then to discover that they were in a Corolla while Sutherland was at the wheel of a Ferrari, the throttle of which she now depressed smoothly, becoming a dot in the distance before the bowlers realised what had happened. In the last four overs of Australia’s innings she scored 42 runs in 17 balls, including six fours and two sixes. 

In the past couple of weeks we have seen fine centuries by Harry Brook and Joe Root at the Basin. Sutherland’s unbeaten 105 was as impressive in many ways, including judgement, planning and execution, and its repertoire of classical shots. She accelerated but never hurried. At 23-years-old she is proof that the quality of the Australian team will perpetuate beyond the Healy/Lanning/Perry generation. 

Australia does not have all the talented 23-year-old cricketers. Auckland’s Molly Penfold dismissed Healy, Perry, Mooney and McGrath on her way to four for 42, as impressive a display of disciplined medium-fast bowling as I can recall from the White Ferns. Penfold and the other bowlers received disappointing support from the fielders, with at least half-a-dozen chances going down, the women emulating the standards of the men in the first test against England.

It was one of those afternoons when the informed spectator held the rain radar in one hand and the DLS charts in the other. The near certainty of an early finish should have worked in New Zealand’s favour, but the ocean of quality between the teams was a journey too far. When the rain reached us, in the 31st over, they were already 65 behind the adjusted target. There were two many dot balls off an attack that was doing its best Scrooge impression in the spirit of the season.

The third match was the first of the series to proceed without the intervention of the weather. It was warm and many of the pohutukawas were flowering, a crimson pelmet to the grass bank along the eastern side of the Basin. A perfect day to be at the cricket. Australia batted first, this time of their own choosing. After 31 overs they were 190 for four, apparently heading for a total somewhere in the 350-plus stratosphere. But the wickets kept falling, with Sophie Devine dismissing Sutherland, and the usually hard-hitting McGrath who did not find the boundary in 33 balls today. Kerr, wicketless two days before, took four, including top scorer Ash Gardner (74). 

Australia were all out in 49 overs for just a run fewer than they made in the second game, but reached by a contrasting route, one that left New Zealand feeling much more positive. Hope, rather than being expunged by a late charge, was revived as the expected target diminished in the last hour of the innings. 

In reply, Suzie Bates top scored with 53, but a more substantial contribution was needed from the top order if New Zealand were to get anywhere close. The RA Vance Pessimists declared it over when Sophie Devine’s misjudgement caused Melie Kerr to be run out. We were impressed by the debut performance of Otago’s Bella James, who got the innings off to a brisk start in both games.

It is fitting that the new honours board at the Basin, recording the results of all international games played there, includes women’s matches, but disappointing that no space has been left for additions to the test match list. South Africa are now playing tests regularly and the cricket community here in New Zealand are downcast that the national body does not want to emulate them. Suzie Bates and Sophie Devine both deserve a test debut in the autumn of their careers. 

The Currency of Centuries: Days 2 & 3 of the Second Test

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McCullum makes 302 to save a game that looked like it would be over in three days…Bangladesh lose after making 595 batting first…Sri Lanka lose after leading by 135 on first innings…New Zealand win by one run after following on. All these things have happened at the Basin Reserve in the last decade. It might be thought that we Basin regulars would have come to expect the unexpected, to retain hope to the last that the home team would find a hero who would find a white horse stabled in the RA Vance Stand and ride to the rescue. 

Yet, once Gus Atkinson had finished off the New Zealand first innings with his hat trick it never seemed that the last two days of the match were more than an administrative exercise, devoid of expectation or emotion. 

New Zealand soon gave up making serious attempts to get England’s batters out, leaving it up to Ben Stokes to choose how many New Zealand would be set. This figure turned out to be 583, and even before the second innings subsided to 59 for four there was not a person in the Basin who thought this remotely achievable. 

There were two nineties and two centuries during the phoney wars of the second innings. Hundreds are the gold standard of batting statistics, the accepted measure of true class. Witness the latest round of comparison of Kohli, Root, Smith and Williamson, which has focused more than anything on the number and frequency of three-figure scores. What transpired here questions the integrity of this currency. Are some centuries no more than a crypto scam in terms of what they tell us about the quality of the batting?

Joe Root scored 106, the third international century he has made in Wellington. The first was a run-a-ball 121 against Sri Lanka in the 2015 World Cup at the Cake Tin; the second a sublime unbeaten 153 in the Greatest Test of All at the Basin in 2023. Both were innings of immense quality, of a kind that are a warm, satisfied glow in the memory and leave a feeling of privilege at having been there to see them. 

This one,106 in 130 balls with 11 fours, did not have that status, and will not occupy much space in the memory, even in Root’s. A hundred devalued. Yet in its context it was perfect. It kept the score moving along at five an over, as much by exquisitely placed twos and threes as boundaries. It was not Root’s fault that the bowling was insipid. [As an aside, how we miss Neil Wagner, a man incapable of bowling in any situation without the intention of having ambassadors recalled.] Worth noting too that Root’s century here was the only one of the three to contribute to a win, which must have some sort of impact on the rate of exchange.

Tom Blundell has had a rough time of it lately. In India he broke double figures only once in five innings, and in Christchurch made 17 and nought followed by a scratchy 16 in the first innings here. The quality of his keeping has indicated a lowering of his confidence in general. I would have given one of the in-form keepers in domestic cricket a go here: Chu of Otago, Hay of Canterbury or Cleaver of Central Districts. 

In the second innings he made a hundred and reacted ecstatically to the achievement, as if it was paid out in gold doubloons. Were they the real thing? His 115 came from just 102 deliveries, with 13 fours and five sixes, four of which came off Shoaib Bashir, and with the help of a stiff northerly at Blundell’s back. Would Bashir have continued to bowl if the target had been for 250 fewer than it was? Almost certainly not. This was a work experience opportunity for him.

This century was similar to the one that he made on test debut against a dispirited West Indian attack. He was proud enough of that one to walk home in his batting gear, and so he should have been, just as his reaction to this one was right: it was a hundred in a test match. It secured his place in the team for the final test in Hamilton and quite probably beyond that. Is the money paid by this innings sufficient to buy that much? Or is it counterfeit?

The point should also be made that Blundell’s other three test centuries were made in the toughest of circumstances, at the MCG in the Boxing Day test; in England as New Zealand were being steamrolled by the novelty of Bazball; and last year at Mt Maunganui, one of countless rescue operations he has mounted to save a beleaguered batting performance. 

There were also two second-innings nineties, by Duckett and Bethall. I was glad that Bethall did not get to three figures. This sounds mean, but the intention is the opposite. It was predicted by many that the young Brummie-Bajan would be embarrassed by being pitched in at No 3 on debut. He was anything but, looking assured and proficient both technically and mentally. There will surely be centuries by the sackload to come, and he deserves the first to be glorious, made under the golden sun against top class bowling, not when kicking against a door blown open in a Wellington gale. 

Hat trick No 10: Gus Atkinson

 

Gus Atkinson, England v New Zealand, Basin Reserve, 7 December 2024

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On the second morning of the second test between New Zealand and England at the Basin Reserve I achieved something that Zak Crawley managed for the first time in the series only the previous day: I reached double figures. It took him an over; it took me 60 years, though collecting hat tricks is a more patient process than blasting runs.

The response to these pieces among veteran cricket watchers suggests that my strike rate of roughly one hat trick every six spectating years is a pretty good one, luckier than average. This one was the second in test matches, and the first in first-class cricket, since that Ashes coup by Darren Gough at the SCG 25 years ago. All three in the interim were in 20-over cricket, the frenetic nature of which tends to make the exceptional mundane.

New Zealand were struggling at the start of the day at 86 for five, 195 in arrears. Tom Blundell, who has navigated New Zealand out of choppy waters so often that he should have a lifeboat named after him, was there so even the RA Vance Pessimists were not without hope. 

Not for long. In the fourth over Brydon Carse bowled Blundell with a cracker that moved away to hit the top of off. Nightwatchman Will O’Rourke followed two balls later, leg before for a 26-ball duck. Nathan Smith now joined Glenn Phillips. These two defy the stereotype of New Zealand cricketers as meek and self-effacing. Both are combative and free of the national inferiority complex, so aspirations towards a deficit under a hundred were not completely fanciful. 

Gus Atkinson has not so much entered test cricket as stormed in through the skylight, distributing grenades as he comes. He has taken more wickets in a debut year than any bowler before him and threw in a debut century at Lord’s as a premium. He is quick: the first and third balls of the hat trick were just short of 140kph, but is also accurate, has plans and can bowl to them. Carse could be similarly described, so if Wood, Stone and Archer can be persuaded to spend the next eleven months residing in large boxes of cotton wool, England will have quite an attack for the Ashes. 

It was the fifth over of Atkinson’s spell. Both batters were becoming established and had taken a boundary each off him. From the stand, it first appeared that Smith had shouldered arms to the third ball of the over and lost his middle stump by doing so. In fact, the ball had bounced more than expected and had come off the inside edge of the withdrawing bat, so still a bit embarrassing, but not nearly as much. 

Henry’s first ball was brutish, rising sharply at the throat. It was as much as he could do to fend it off to gully, where Duckett took a low catch, a delivery that would have got a good many top-order batters out. 

New Zealand fans have had an ambivalent attitude to Tim Southee this season. We are grateful to have the opportunity to salute an outstanding career as the series becomes his valedictory procession, but hardly any of us think that he should be playing, his bowling mojo having gone missing some 18 months ago. 

As a potential hat-trick victim he was interesting. Southee has never been averse to swinging away in defiance of the circumstances—a sideshow in this series has been his pursuit of a century of sixes—which prompted the setting of the oddest hat-trick ball field of the ten, with fielders dotted around the legside as if arranged according to where they were when the music stopped. 

Atkinson played the bluff and bowled fast, straight and full. Southee wafted at it vaguely as the ball thudded into the pad and there was the hat trick. There was a curious coda as Southee called for a review, as is now standard when there are unused reviews at the end of an innings. By the time the process had concluded all the players had left the field, leaving the umpire to confirm the decision in a void. If a tree falls in an empty forest, does it make a sound, and if an umpire raises the finger on an empty field, is it really out? 

The Basin Reserve Test: First Day

New Zealand v England, 2nd test, first day, Basin Reserve, 6 December 2024

Scorecard

It is some time since I wrote on a single day of a test match, and I may not do so for the remainder of this game, but today at the Basin was so relishable that I could not resist.

Two trends in modern selection could be observed in the composition of the teams here. The first is a degree of loyalty to current members of the XI that makes the average labrador look like Philby, Burgess or Maclean in comparison. Marnus Labuschagne is a beneficiary of this approach in the Australian XI, Tim Southee, and possibly Devon Conway, in the New Zealand team, and Zak Crawley for England. 

I have noted previously that my face in the crowd means that Crawley may as well not bother. This was the seventh time I had seen him in the middle and on only one of the previous occasions had he breached double figures. In Canterbury in April (the last time I was as cold as I was in the final hour today, incidentally) he nicked off for five. But today, with England put in by Tom Latham, Crawley reached ten with a six off Southee’s final delivery of the first over. Was the hoodoo broken? I had with me my Kent sunhat, which I intended to put on to mark Crawley reaching his hundred, sometime around the first drinks break at the rate at which he set off. 

There is much talk here in Wellington about the planning of a second tunnel through Mt Victoria, adjacent to the Basin. Now we found that it already exists, in the form of the two-lane highway down which Matt Henry’s delivery passed between Crawley’s bat and pad as he swished at his old Kent teammate to be bowled for 17. Crawley on the attack is a thrilling sight, but he has a pacifist’s defence, which is why, after 50 tests, he has an average barely above 30 and only four centuries. 

Ben Duckett was already out, for an eight-ball duck, a period of self-denial in Duckett’s terms equivalent to St Simon Stylites, who lived on a pillar near Aleppo for 26 years. This brought together Harry Brook and Jacob Bethall, potentially one of the great partnerships from now to c2040. Bethall hit a couple of gorgeous off drives before falling to a legside strangle off Nathan Smith. Joe Root was caught spectacularly by Daryl Mitchell at first slip, also off Smith. At the moment, New Zealand seem able to catch only the really difficult ones. 

England were 43 for four and in deep trouble. Fortunately for the visitors, the fifth-wicket pair that turned the game in Christchurch last week were together again, and this time they did not need the collaboration of the New Zealand fielders. 

The last time Harry Brook played at the Basin was in the Greatest Test of All, almost two years ago. Then he made 180, an innings that was the best that we had seen there for some years before, or since. It was elegant, precise  and technically not far from perfect. Today’s innings contained examples of all those elements, but with raw power and apparently (but not actually) reckless attack. At one stage it appeared that an air-raid siren should be sounded when Brook faced bowling from the southern end, so under bombardment was the food truck area. In its audacity, confidence, and domination of and contempt for the bowling it reminded me of Viv Richards, who I saw score three one-day final centuries at Lord’s, the best of which won a World Cup. I have no praise higher than that at my disposal.

Brook’s partner, Ollie Pope, continued where he left off at Hagley, Only in comparison with Brook was he laggardly as they put on 174 in just 26 overs. The innings became a runaway thoroughbred at which the home attack could only wave their arms at as it thundered past them. The other nine partnerships collectively mustered only 106. Pope succumbed to the extra pace of O’Rourke, top edging a pull to go for 66. If he does not want to keep the gloves and bat at No 6 he needs to drop a couple of sitters before the series is out.

Brook’s magnificence ended absurdly. Just before tea he nudged one into the legside and inexplicably set off for a single, the possibility of which had no more status than a QAnon rumour. Smith, following through, casually flicked the ball at the stumps to effect the run out by several metres. He made 123 from 115 deliveries. There was no wag of the tail; the last three wickets put on only 21, fpr a total of 280 (or 279, depending what scoreboard you were looking at and when; the North Koreans who undermine western morale through their control of the Basin Reserve scoreboard were in peak form today). 

Matt Henry was New Zealand’s best bowler, by quite a distance. After four overs his figures were 4-4-0-2, Will O’Rourke finished with three for 49, a much more accurate measure of his value than he attained in the first test. His pace makes a difference. 

Putting Nathan Smith on to bowl places the captain in the position of Aristotle Onassis asking Jackie Kennedy to marry him. It will be fun, but my God, the expense. Four for 86 off 12, plus the run out.

Which brings us to the other trend of modern selection, that of players announcing their own farewell. David Warner is the most egregious example, initiating a rolling national holiday culminating at the SCG where he left the team mid-series. Then Jimmy Anderson had his celebration test at Lord’s. He is here, joining in the warm ups, reminding me of those folk who retire then turn up two days a week and sit in the corner drinking tea, Can the ECB not get him an allotment, or something, to keep him occupied? 

Now Tim Southee, to go at home at Seddon Park next week. Twice in one over he was effortlessly driven to the cover boundary by Brook. No disgrace there, Then I looked again. It wasn’t Brook, but Woakes, who had just come in at No 8, but able to treat Southee with disdain. Mitch Santner was in the squad here. I do not think that his 13 wickets at Pune are enough to refute the lack of evidence of his previous 28 tests regarding him as a test-class spinner. But there was a case for picking him because of his defensive white-ball qualities, to stem the English torrent. With four right-arm quicker bowlers there is an element of Trevor Bailey’s dictum that you can change the bowler, but not the bowling. 

Then there is Will Young, player of the series in the three-nil win in India, lauded by Sunil Gavaskar as the most technically proficient New Zealand batter, but omitted for the first two tests because of that loyalty factor. There was almost nobody in the ground who believed this to be the correct decision except for those who pick the New Zealand side. With New Zealand five down and 194 behind at the close, they must surely relent. Only Williamson looked in anything like top form, and he was bowled by a no ball before edging a good ball by Carse to the keeper.

It might be thought, after 19 seasons watching at the Basin, that I would have paid more attention to the small print of the weather forecast. I was scammed by the predicted 20 degrees and failed to look at the wind direction, which was southerly, and roaring. I was at least three layers short of the minimum in such conditions. Furthermore, I forgot that in Wellington it is possible to shiver from the cold while burning from the sun, even though you are in the shade. Perhaps the memory of the three-nil series win in India just a month ago is a collective hallucination, brought on by these extreme conditions. 

The Plunket Shield begins

Wellington v Auckland, Basin Reserve, 11-14 November 2024

In common with the County Championship in Britain and the Sheffield Shield in Australia, the Plunket Shield bookends the season in New Zealand, four rounds before the shorter forms take over at the height of summer, four more as the leaves turn from green to brown. The difference between my experience at St Lawrence in April and the Basin Reserve in November was about 15 degrees celsius. It was most pleasant in the RA Vance, at least until mid-afternoon when the southerly turned up. I was there only for the first day of the opener between Wellington and Auckland.

The first thing we noticed was the sightscreens, installed at considerable cost, both financial and in terms of the view of play from the Royal Box. That at the southern end was out of action, replaced by something closely resembling an Imax screen, spread out over the grass bank. The screen at the northern end remained functional, though the white sheets attached to the framework flapped about as if they were washing hung on a line. They had not survived 130kph winds a few days before. It had not been thought worth checking the resilience of the screens in these conditions, presumably on the grounds that in Wellington they occur no more than three times a week. 

In preparation for the forthcoming series against England, Devon Conway, Rachin Ravindra and Tom Blundell all made rare appearances in the Wellington XI. All three might have been with the national white-ball team in Sri Lanka, but it was good to see priority given to their well-being and readiness for test cricket. Tim Robinson and Nathan Smith were on international duty in Asia. 

When I arrived, about 40 minutes in, Auckland were 26 for four. It might have been assumed that this was the consequence of an early-season greentop, but Auckland chose to bat after winning the toss on a pitch that was closer to grapefruit than lime in colour. There was a bit of movement, particularly before lunch, but nothing that approached impropriety for a first-day strip. There was extra bounce too, and that accounted for Cam Fletcher in particular. 

At 66 for seven we were reminded of the corresponding opening fixture seven years ago when Auckland were dismissed for 62, Wellington finishing the first day on 246 without loss. An eighth-wicket partnership of 87 between Jacobs and Ashok set aside the possibility of such a catastrophe for the visitors being repeated.

Bevon-John Jacobs is known as BJ, like Watling of that ilk. In common with the former Black Caps wicketkeeper he is South African by birth and a New Zealander by cricketing upbringing. Jacobs was making his first-class debut here, having appeared a few times in the shorter forms for Canterbury. His 75 came in 100 balls, and 58 came in boundaries, including three sixes, with hitting that was clean and judicious. 

For the 46th over, van Beek switched to the northern end, removed the close catchers, spread the fielders* around the boundary and started to dig them in. I was well into a homily on the subject of how foolish this was, and how nobody striking the ball as well as Jacobs could possibly fall for it when he hit the fourth ball of the over straight to deep mid-wicket. Any actor auditioning for the part of Othello and wanting to brush up on the portrayal of remorse would do well to study the video of Jacobs leaving the field at this point. Nevertheless, his innings gave Auckland a veneer of respectability that looked unlikely when he came in. They finished with 184.

Buoyed by our returning internationals, we anticipated a sizeable first-innings lead. What we got was an advantage of 86, to which the three returning heroes contributed 49 between them. Devon Conway chipped in with 36, but the fact that he was sixth out tells you much about the general progress of the innings. 

Conway batted much as he had in India: not looking in great touch, but scoring runs nevertheless. That is one measure of a good batter, I suppose. Rachin Ravindra was largely responsible for New Zealand’s victory in the first test in India, but lost form as the series went on. Here, he was leg before for seven. He left the field pointedly examining the edge of his bat like Thomas Chippendale handling a particularly fine chair leg, but if he had not played across the line it would have been the middle rather than the exterior that connected with the ball, and the question would not have arisen. It was seven more than he managed in the second innings. 

Blundell got six before getting an inside edge to an outswinger, the geometry of which suggests a player a distance from peak form. Some question his place in the test team after a poor time with the bat in south Asia, but his keeping remains proficient and he deserves the England series in home conditions. At the close of the first day, Wellington were 58 in arrears with four wickets left. 

Logan van Beek, with five for 53, was the main reason for Auckland’s low score, and on the second day became the driver of Wellington’s first-innings lead. Overnight, he was unbeaten on 37 from 32 balls, a fairly standard rate of van Beekian progress. In the morning, he was altogether calmer, requiring a further 126 deliveries to reach his century. He put on123 for the eighth wicket with Peter Younghusband. 

Van Beek is a cricketer who makes things happen, one way or the other. He is, I think, the only cricketer to both score and concede 30 or more in an over across first-class, List A and T20 cricket. He plays international cricket for the Netherlands so is currently unavailable to the New Zealand selectors, who would otherwise have him on their radar. This innings demonstrated a pleasing capacity for circumspection. 

The rest I will gloss over as I was not there, but Basin Reserve regulars who were present would want to do the same, given that Wellington blew their advantage to lose by 54 runs. When Auckland were seven down with the lead just 93, it seemed that the points were in the bag, but it was BJ Jacobs who turned things around with his second 70 of the game, though he had been infected with some of van Beek’s caution, as it took him 50 more deliveries than the first one. A name to watch. 

Even so, 232 should have been attainable, but Blundell’s 63 apart, Conway’s 28 was the highest score of the innings. I watched the end of the game on the YouTube feed. Seconds after Blundell left the field ninth out, the microphone on the solitary camera situated right next to the dressing rooms picked up a loud curse followed by one of summer’s most evocative sounds, that of willow on plaster. 

*It occurs to me that “fielder” has gradually taken the place of “fieldsman” in cricket’s vocabulary without any of the faux outrage that surrounds the emergence of “batter”. I have “batter” in my style guide partly because I write about women’s and men’s cricket and like to use the same language about both, but mostly because it annoys disproportionately precisely those who most deserve to be annoyed. I would take their protests more seriously if I had ever heard anybody object to the gender-neutral “bowler”, which I have not, even once, in six decades.