There is the danger with T20 of coming to resemble Mrs
Mary Whitehouse, who spent the seventies scanning the Radio Times in search of programmes to watch and be offended by.
She would then campaign to have these programmes banned so that others could
not gain the pleasure from them that she had, in her own way.
Many of the readers of these pieces will share my
reservations about T20, and we need not again rehearse what they are. I am
aghast that the school summer holiday period in England will henceforth be
almost entirely given over it. Had that been so in the seventies, my whole life
might have taken a very different course.
But if you go to a T20 game (other than at gunpoint) you
should enter into the spirit of the occasion and judge it on its own terms,
like an uncle who maintains a broad smile while wearing the reindeer-decorated
jersey he had for Christmas. So I watched a five-over game, which was decided by
a one-over game, and reader, I enjoyed it.
The cricket itself was not the only factor, but then it
never is. There was bureaucratic confusion worthy of the Byzantine Empire at
its peak to enjoy, of which more later, and there was the Basin itself, which
for a week or so at this time of year acquires a scarlet sash of pohutukawa
flowers that wraps its eastern side and reaches up the hill to the
Governor-General’s residence (we have a new GG, by the way; a country largely
dependent upon dairy farming for its prosperity now has a vegan head of state).
The game was supposed to start at two, but it had rained
for most of the day, so it came as a surprise to hear just after four that the
captains were about to toss up for a five-overs-a-side contest. I wouldn’t usually
bother in these circumstances, but this season I have signed up for a Wellington
cricket membership, so could chalk up a new spectating experience at no cost. I
have watched a few ten-over games on rainy Sunday afternoons in England, but
nothing this truncated, a gobbet of a game.
Had it not rained I would have missed David Warner’s
century before lunch on the first day in Sydney, only the fifth such achievement
in test history, and a treat to watch, though it is sad to see Misbah-ul-Haq’s
heroic tenure of the Pakistan captaincy (the cricketing equivalent of the
Italian prime ministership) ending so badly, on and off the field.
On most days the cricket would have been called off after
several hours’ rain, but different criteria apply to T20 games, and rightly so.
As ever, the positions taken on whether there should be play bore no relation
to the conditions, depending instead on the stakes for either team. This was
the final day of round-robin games. Central Districts had already secured top
place, so will host the final on the world’s most beautiful postage stamp,
Pukekura Park in New Plymouth. Second and third will play off to be their
opponents. A win for Wellington would take them into the semi-final. An
abandonment would be of no use to them. Otago had already secured the wooden
spoon, so had only a laundry bill to gain from playing the game.
Which explains why, when I arrived at the Basin, the
umpires and the Wellington players were on the field ready to start, but the
Otago batsman were nowhere to be seen. This remained the case for the next five
minutes or so, until at last the newly agoraphobic Rutherford and Kitchen were
coaxed from the dressing room. Then, something else that I had not seen before
(today was a bran tub full of new experiences): Hamish Bennett was ready to
bowl the first over from the southern end, with the umpire in place behind the
stumps (you will recall that they had had some time to think about this while
waiting for the batsmen). At the last minute the decision was made to switch to
the northern end, with Arnel opening, which necessitated late rearrangement of
fielders and umpires.
What is a par score in a five-over game? I thought about
60, but given that both sides here made 48, that must be it. The only wicket of
the Otago innings came from its final delivery, which raises the question of
whether the openers should have pushed it a bit more. In the circumstances,
Anaru Kitchen’s 16 from 17 balls seems a bit thin.
Bowling is a losing lottery ticket in these circumstances,
so Hamish Bennett’s effort in conceding only four runs in his over was
particularly meritorious.
Michael Papps hit the second ball of the Wellington
innings onto the bank behind long leg and at 20 without loss after 11 balls it
all seemed a bit of a procession. But Marshall was caught at mid on, and from
the first two balls of the next over, Namibian international Christi Viljoen
had Blundell caught at fine leg and then yorked Papps.
Michael Pollard deployed the heave over midwicket to great
effect, with two sixes, but was plumb lbw trying to repeat. He will make
seventies in longer forms that do not have the value that 14 did here.
Eight were needed from the last over, bowled by Duffy. But
which one? I assumed that it was Jacob
Duffy, Otago’s young quick, but no. It was Ryan Duffy, who is listed as a
wicketkeeper by CricInfo, and who has bowled just two overs in 18 first-class
matches spread over three years. He had never played T20 until New Year’s Day,
but now finds himself reinvented as a closer (to use a baseball term) in this
format. I wonder how you find out that the reserve keeper is a secret death
bowler? He did a decent job here.
A single from Elliott, then Taylor skyed a catch to mid
on. Seven from four. Grant Elliott—the hero of the World Cup semi-final—lifted
the next ball over mid off for four. Why bowl full with mid off up? With three
needed from three it seemed that what was left were mere formalities, but
Elliott left the next one hoping for a high wide call, which didn’t come. The
umpires were bowler friendly in their application of this rule, but consistently
so. A single off the fifth ball mean that it was two to win, one for a super
over.
Luke Woodcock was on strike for the first time. He is a
southern hemisphere Darren Stevens, a man who exudes reliability and
reassurance. Duffy’s attempted yorker was a little under-pitched and was driven
straight of long off. It looked a certain two, but Michael Bracewell was
quickly to it and he threw to the keeper’s end with the precision of Phil
Taylor going for double top. Woodcock was run out by a metre.
So it was to be a super over. Or was it? We now had one of
those disputes that cricket, and cricket alone, can conjure out of the ether.
It would be inconceivable that a drawn football match in a competition that had
used penalty shoot-outs throughout the season would then be paused to consider
whether, on this one occasion, there was something in the rulebook that meant
that the shoot-out could not take place. Yet that was what happened here.
This was post-truth cricket. How the idea emerged that somehow
there was a sub-subclause somewhere that said that there was no time left to
bowl two overs, who knows? But it took hold and meant that there was a delay of
more than 15 minutes—longer than it would take to get the super over
done—during which the Middle East peace process was recreated on the outfield
with no brow left unfurrowed. I hardly need add that as these discussions
continued, the sun came out in Wellington for the first time this year, and
spectators were shedding layers of clothing.
Eventually, the obvious decision was reached and the super
over was on (the sub committee set up to establish the religion of the Pope
will report this time next year).
Wellington batted first, with Neil Wagner bowling. The
first ball was decisive. It was called as a no ball for being above waist
height. Michael Pollard applied his legside heave to send the free hit out of
the ground, and followed with another later in the over, setting 20 as the
total to beat.
Hamish Bennett bowled a tight, thoughtful over for the
second time this afternoon restricting Otago to eight and taking two wickets,
which is all out in a super over.
Wellington were through to the knock out phase, an outcome
that looked improbable after their first four matches, all of which were lost. Even
better news followed. Auckland, who would claim the right to play the
semi-final at home if they beat Central Districts, lost despite scoring 212 in
their 20 overs. Rain intervened and CD’s 82 without loss in eight overs satisfied
not only Mr Duckworth, but also Mr Lewis, so Wellington host Canterbury in the
semi-final.
This was as unusual an hour or so as I have spent at the
cricket. It was a cricketing degustation, tasty and intriguing, not as
nourishing as a full plate, but enjoyable nonetheless.
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