#plunketshield trended briefly on
Twitter in Wellington on the first day of this game, which was heartening, but more
indicative of a capital city that gives up giving a damn about anything much at
this time in December, rather than one suddenly in thrall to the delights of first-class
cricket.
My Life in Cricket Scorecards had
intended to be present throughout this game, but single-digit temperatures and
a Rottweiler southerly on the first two days meant that it was not until the
third morning that I took my seat at the Basin—the tweeting hoards absent, I
noticed—with Otago 100 for two in reply to Wellington’s 328.
The best batting for Otago came from
Neil Broom and Anaru Kitchen, but the biggest partnership of the innings was
only 58. With more than half of the second day had been lost to rain, the game
needed moving along and a declaration came at 279 for eight, conceding a lead
of 49.
Michael Papps and Luke Woodcock spent
the last session putting on a rapid unbeaten double-century opening partnership
for Wellington. Almost half the overs in this period were bowled either by
inexperienced leg spinner Rhys Phillips, or by Anaru Kitchen, whose slow left
arm has reaped four wickets in 52 first-class appearances.
Was there a slightly unpleasant taste
to all this, the disappointment of discovering that the cream topping the
trifle is artificial, not the genuine full fat? In short, was it declaration
bowling?
Yes and no. The bowlers were doing
their best, but had Otago skipper Hamish Rutherford been really determined to
staunch the flow, others would have been given the ball on the third evening.
Even so, attack leader Jacob Duffy bowled more than double the overs that
anybody else did over the innings as a whole. So while Otago would have bowled
Wellington out if they could, the inevitability of a target being set on the
fourth morning was accepted. I don’t think that a deal was done.
Michael Papps’ agony in the nineties
was powerful evidence for the defence. He cut and pulled as forcefully as ever,
and was particularly hard on Phillips’ nervous leggies. Yet with the century
just a shot away, it was suddenly as if he was batting at the bottom of the
sea, feet heavy, hands slow. For a couple of overs he offered respect to
Kitchen’s nondescript bowling as if under the impression that it was a senior
member of the royal family.
It was Papps’ 28th
first-class century, so it was not as if he was unfamiliar with the situation.
The achievement of a century has been built into a cult, and cults mess with
the minds of reasonable people.
After Papps finally forced a cut
through the infield to bring up three figures he was away again, and raced to
132 before getting out early on the final morning. An hour’s tonking, led by
Woodcock who reached 131, and Wellington set Otago a target of 355, four an
over for a minimum of 86 overs.
The pitch was as pacey as has there
has been at the Basin for quite a few seasons. This was to everyone’s advantage
(except, as we will see, an aging medium pacer in whom it induced delusions of
a return to a long-past youth of bouncers and blood); the quicker bowlers found
reward for effort; a canny spinner could employ the bounce to good effect; and
batsmen could play shots with confidence.
So Hamish Rutherford was most
unfortunate to be out early, lbw to one of the very few balls all day to keep
low. There followed an exchange of what it would be inaccurate to call
pleasantries between the batsman and the bowler, Brent Arnel.
Arnel was on a mission; today was the
day he would revive Bodyline. To both Brad Wilson and later Derek de Boorder
he placed as many as four legside close catchers, with a deep square leg too. His
plan was to pepper the batsmen with short-pitched deliveries that they would
fend off into the hands of the waiting predators, just like Larwood and Voce.
Wilson and de Boorder had to avoid
playing shots. They were mostly able to do this by simply standing there as the
ball passed high or wide of them. If anybody at the Basin on Sunday had said
“there are two teams out there, but only one is playing cricket” it would only be
because Arnel appeared to have abandoned the game in favour of pie throwing.
Yet it worked.
While de Boorder had been content to
leave all but the most punishable of Arnel’s nonsense, Neil Broom, with the
confidence that being 85 not out gives you, had a go at a perambulating long
hop that was too straight to be pulled. A thin edge to the keeper resulted.
At that point Otago had eased ahead,
needing 128 more with six wickets standing and two batsmen set. It turned the
game.
Jeetan Patel was the difference. He
had two wickets already, following three in the first innings. Brad Wilson had
hit him for a straight six, but when he attempted a repeat later in the same
over found too late that it was a little quicker, a little fuller. Caught and
bowled. Next over, Kitchen followed, bowled playing forward.
Once the Broom/de Boorder partnership
was broken Patel was too clever for the rest of the order and last six wickets
fell for 35, four to the off spinner. Wellington won by 92 runs.
Which brings us to the Jeetan Patel
question: he is by far and away the best spinner in New Zealand, the most
respected slow bowler in county cricket (if available he would be a shoo in for
the England test team) and a current Wisden Cricketer of the Year. So why is he
not in the national team?
The surprising thing is not the
answer, but that the question is never asked. Patel has not played for New
Zealand since the tour of South Africa when he staged his infamous retreat to
square leg against Dale Steyn’s bowling. He was picked for the West Indies tour
last year, but put his county commitments first, which is, presumably, why he
is no longer considered. But does it matter that he picks and chooses? There is
Australia to beat, and had Patel played at Adelaide he might just have made the
difference. But neither public nor media seem to raise the possibility. We, the
faithful few at the Basin, will be happy to have him to ourselves.
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