Wellington
v Central Districts, Plunket Shield, Basin Reserve, 1–3 March 2020
The
last of the cricket of the season is forever poignant, the more so as the years
pass by. There is a question mark added to the heading of this piece, because
nobody knows how cricket will emerge at the far end of all this. Already there
is talk of counties folding and of England’s test and one-day teams playing
concurrently. Not even the most Blimpish of us could argue that the T20 should
not have priority in the English season, to keep the people coming through the
gates and the money going into the bank.
The
immediate consequences for cricket here in New Zealand will be fewer than for
the UK, as the suspension here came at the end of the season, costing only a
T20 series against Australia and two rounds of the Plunket Shield. The national
team has had a series in Ireland cancelled, but is not scheduled for test
cricket until Bangladesh in August.
The
game against Central Districts just over a month ago was my last cricket for
the season anyway, Wellington’s final three fixtures all being away. I was able
to attend only on the first day. Central were top going into the game, and Wellington
were second, so we knew that the game would go some way to deciding the Plunket
Shield, but we didn’t realise quite how far.
The
pitch was greener than that for the test, and a degree more helpful, but not
nearly as much as what ensued might suggest after Central were put in. It demonstrated
the principle that I have just heard expounded once more by Richie Benaud as
Sky Sports New Zealand start their rerun of the 2006/07 Ashes (the whole match,
not just highlights—first day at Brisbane and it’s not going well for England)—that
the ball only has to move an inch, not a foot, to get a batsman out.
No
assistance whatsoever was needed from the pitch for the first Central wicket, a
gorgeous yorker from McPeake to remove Worker.
Had
he been fit, Will Young would have opened for New Zealand in the Boxing Day
test, just as he would against Bangladesh at Hagley Park last March had the
test not been cancelled following the 15 March atrocity. He is Tom Hanks in Sleepless
in Seattle, continually just missing Meg Ryan playing the role of his unborn
test career. Young was soon lbw shuffling across to Neesham, the pick of a strong
seam attack.
It
was a day on which the bowling was more intelligent than the batting, the verdant
pitch an unconvincing defence for unconvincing defence. The fifth-wicket
partnership of 28 between Hay and Cleaver was the biggest of the innings.
It
was when Cleaver was dismissed that it first occurred to me that I had a chance
of ticking off one of my unfulfilled ambitions in cricket watching: to see an
opener carry his bat, that is to bat all through an innings, remaining not out
when his side is all out.
I
have seen batsmen on their way to this achievement, but have never seen it
completed. At Canterbury in 1987, Neil Taylor, an underrated Kent opening
batsman, was five not out at the close of play of the first day against Nottinghamshire,
but I was back at work in Bristol when the bat carrying was done on the Monday.
Ten years later, on what remains my most recent visit to Lord’s, I watched Mark
Ramprakash get Middlesex’s second innings under way; he also went on to get an
unbeaten hundred the next day, unperturbed by the foot traffic at the other
end.
But
the closest I had previously come to seeing an opener carry his bat was at
Folkestone in 1977. When the Yorkshire team awoke and looked out of their hotel-room
windows on the third morning they would have experienced the sinking feeling
felt by a soldier about to go over the top, a pilot as an engine fails or, in
their case, cricketers who find that it has rained overnight and that Derek
Underwood is in the other team, for this was the time of uncovered pitches,
with no protection permitted after the first ball of the game was bowled.
The
opening batsman concerned was Geoffrey Boycott, in the very week in which he
ended his self-imposed exile from the England team. If mention of Boycott fosters
the notion that this was some sort of masterclass in batting on a drying pitch
against Underwood, think again. Boycott did indeed show immense command and
skill, but only in manipulating the strike. He spent so much of Underwood’s
spell watching from the non-striker’s end that he might reasonably have been
charged admission.
No 11
Mike Bore somehow broke Boycott’s bubble (as we would say these days),
whereupon the Great Resistor became Underwood’s seventh victim. He was caught
behind by Knott, with whom, just two days later, he was to put on 215 for the sixth
wicket on his test return, though not before he had run out local Trent Bridge hero
Derek Randall.
Logan
van Beek stoked my hopes with three quick wickets. Now only two tailenders with
only two previous first-class appearances between them stood between Greg Hay
and his achievement (though by now I was regarding it as much my achievement as
his).
There
remains confusion about the identity of the debutant No 10. On the day, the
board had him as Hook, as does the NZ Cricket scorecard linked to at the top of
this piece. But CricInfo says that he is Stefan Hook-Sporry, possibly a
friend of Bertie Wooster’s. What seemed clear on the day is that he is no
batsman. He scooped a ball from off stump to behind square on the legside,
where he was caught by van Beek off Sears.
Ray
Toole was Central’s last man. Surely a man whose batting ability could promote
Hook-Sporry to No 10 could not divert the course of history? But he was good,
or lucky, enough to survive nine deliveries, at which point Hay was late with
the shot to Neesham and was hit on the pad. The umpire thought for a moment,
then decided that it would have hit leg and so Hay failed at the last, just as
Boycott had at Folkestone. As things stand, I can still have the words “He
never saw anyone carry their bat” on my headstone.
Central’s
total was just 96. It was unusual in that only Hay reached double figures, his
62 constituting 65percent of the whole.
Ninety-six
looked a fair score after the first over of the Wellington innings in which Colson
and Conway were both dismissed without scoring. Both fell caught behind to
testing deliveries that moved away just enough. The bowler was Blair Tickner,
whose exuberant celebrations rile an element of the Basin faithful.
There
was no need for concern. Just one wicket fell in the remaining 52 overs of the
day. Left-handed opener Rachin Ravindra led the recovery. Ravindra, still only
20-years-old, was identified as a future international at an early age. He made
his first-class debut for New Zealand A before he had appeared in the Plunket
Shield. Here, he showed why. It was a composed, classy innings, made as if he
was at a different venue from the rest of the batsmen. Look out for Ravindra in
the Black Caps team very soon.
He
was well supported, first by Troy Johnson then by the captain Michael Bracewell,
who has had a season good enough to have placed him in international contention
(if there is any international cricket to contend for). My cricket watching for
the season finished with Wellington 79 ahead with seven wickets standing. It
was a day that had settled the question of the Plunket Shield.
Next
day, the lead was extended to 202. Though Central did better in their second
innings, Wellington had to make only 53 to win the game by nine wickets. In the
next round, sixth of a scheduled eight, Wellington beat Auckland by an innings
while Central lost to Otago. This left Wellington with a 26-point lead (with 20
the most attainable in any one game). Thus when Coronavirus forced the
cancellation of the final two rounds Wellington were declared to be champions,
an odd way to achieve their first title in 16 years, to add to the T20 trophy won
in January.
It
has been a good season for me, the most enjoyable since 2014–15, which I picked
as my
vintage summer. Three test matches were at the heart of it, in Hamilton,
Sydney
and at home in Wellington.
Fine batting by Latham, Burns, Labuschagne, Warner and Williamson; excellent bowling
from Wagner, Boult, Southee, Cummins and Lyon, amongst others.
The
domestic schedule was kinder to me than for some time, particularly in
providing four 50-over games early in the year. I didn’t have time to blog on
these, but they were most enjoyable. There was some good Plunket Shield too, notably
Devon Conway’s triple hundred early on the season. Also, Wellington’s T20
victory.
What
will it be like when we next meet at the cricket? The current emergency will
change all sorts of things in all sorts of ways. Cricket, more than many sports,
has international contests at its core. It will suffer from the restrictions on
international travel, which may last much longer than is generally recognised,
with 14-day quarantine periods at either end even when the planes start taking
off again. I’ll be happy if I’m wrong, but England will be fortunate to see any
international cricket in the coming season. When domestic cricket begins it is
to be hoped that the ECB sticks to its promise to put domestic T20 at the heart
of the schedule. If there are no tests, what about a little imagination to keep
the longer form going? I suppose that Smokers v Non-Smokers might be a bit
one-sided these days, perhaps less so if what was being smoked wasn’t
specified. North v South would be pretty good. Or Born in England v Born
Somewhere Else.
Here
at Scorecards Towers we feel very fortunate. Both of us are working full-time
from home in a large house with a well-stocked library in a country that is
doing much better than most at dealing with the virus. You do so much better if
you have a good captain.
My
main concern at the moment is that this year’s Wisden won’t get here for
a while. As mentioned above, Sky Sports New Zealand is running a stack of old
cricket in full, (but with most of the ads edited out so it moves along at an
old-school over rate). It’s now lunch on the third day at Brisbane 2006 on my
timeline, and England are in a tricky spot.
See
you at the cricket, sometime.
