Wellington v Otago, 50 overs, Basin Reserve, 9 March 2014

http://cricketarchive.com/Archive/Scorecards/576/576370.html

I have drawn attention before to the talent of the Wellington cricket team for picking defeat from the pocket of victory. Today at the Basin they abandoned petty crime and entered the world of the big heist. Defeat was locked securely in a strong room located in a deep cave, protected by armed guards and with a security system designed by NASA. Yet Wellington had a plan to spring it that came within a whisker of working.

When Brad Scott was ninth out, Otago needed 37 from 14 balls, and only a single was added in the rest of that over.  Mark Gillespie bowled the penultimate over from the northern end. Some of us have not forgotten—will never forget—the day five years ago when Northern Districts, also with nine down, needed ten from the last two balls of the game. Gillespie, again from the northern end, contrived to bowl two legside long hops that needed minimal assistance from Peter McGlashan to find their way over the wall by the Reid Gates to take the game.

Now it was full tosses that Gillespie served up as the dish of the day. Two in the over were just right for the left-handed Sam Wells to deposit on the bank on the Victoria Tunnel side of the ground. Six further runs were gleaned from the rest of the over.  

But eighteen from the over would have to be repeated for Otago to take the game, which was reassuring; how often has that happened? Even so, the pessimism that Wellington folk carry in their pockets to most of the capital’s sporting events was heard murmuring as Andy McKay prepared to bowl the final over.

Nick Beard took a single from the first ball. Wells got two from the next ball, followed by an air shot to the third. With fifteen needed from three balls, some people—almost certainly newcomers to the capital—were heard to pass comment along the lines of “it’s all over” and “they can’t throw it away from here”. The rest of us were not even slightly surprised when Wells took a stride down the pitch to hit the fourth ball of the over for six over long off, nor when the fifth ball went the same way. This brought up a 28-ball half century for Wells.

So three were needed from the final ball. After resolutions had been passed and the minutes taken at the conference convened to set the field that is compulsory on these occasions, McKay bowled the final ball. Again Wells strode forward and sent the ball high in the air toward the Adelaide Road. It seemed for a moment that he had hit it with sufficient timing to send it all the way, but it began to descend too early, towards Grant Elliott at long off. Had he dropped it, they would have run two and tied the game, but Elliott has steady nerves and held on safely.

Wellington had made 308 batting first, always an impressive score in a 50-over game, but not exceptional on a pitch that appeared perfectly paced for easy timing of bat on ball. The foundation of the innings was a first-wicket partnership of 144 between Stephen Murdoch and Michael Papps. Murdoch dominated the partnership and was first out for 89. I have not seen him bat as fluently before. Papps played an uncharacteristically measured innings before falling caught behind off the bowling of off spinner Mark Craig two short of his century.

The highlight of the rest of the innings was a 31-ball 47 by keeper Tom Blundell, who was quick to take advantage of the current fad in one-day field setting, which is to use all available boundary fielders on the onside, with all the fielders inside the ring on the off. Moreover, two of those fielders should be behind square and standing close enough to each other to dance between deliveries. No doubt this is a rational solution to the increased restrictions on boundary fielders in the final ten overs, but it means that bowlers have to have the accuracy of a tailor threading a needle. Blundell exposed the risk inherent in this approach by stepping back to crash three boundaries through the offside in the same over.

Scott was Otago’s best bowler, so why he only bowled nine overs is a mystery. Swapping the bowling around like kids do conkers is all very well, but sometimes the wood becomes invisible behind all the trees.

A target of 309 needs a good start, and that is what Otago got, barring the early loss of Hamish Rutherford.  Aaron Redmond and Michael Bracewell put on 155 for the second wicket, déjà vu for those of us who were at the Basin in October when the same pair put on 271. Redmond was the more aggressive today, twice introducing a cricket ball into the traffic outside the Stewie Dempster Gates.

When Bracewell was out, caught at mid on off a mistimed pull, Otago needed 141 from 20 overs, very achievable on a benevolent pitch. Redmond and ten Doeschate chugged pleasantly along until the 37^th over when the match turned on a moment. Ten Doeschate turned a ball straight to Grant Elliott at backward point. Elliott is a highly competent fielder and that knowledge should have been sufficient to ensure that we moved to the next delivery without further incident. Once Elliott had spotted that Redmond was hurtling from the non-striker’s end as if the umpire had applied a cattle prod, it was a simple matter for him to return the ball to Blundell, who completed the formalities.

Redmond was on 98 at the time, which might explain it. In October he had become transfixed for some time in the nineties, so maybe the proximity of a century scrambled his head. The significance of the moment became clear next ball, when Jesse Ryder swiped at a ball outside off stump and was judged by the umpire to have been caught behind. Ryder said nothing, but could not have made his disagreement with the decision clearer had he toured the ground expressing it through a megaphone.

From that moment, the Otago innings resembled a man sliding down a cliff, the scouring of his fingernails on its face a record of his futile attempts to slow his fall. Yet, at the same time Wellington were frantically tunnelling through to save them, and broke through only a second too late.

 

Wellington v Otago, Plunket Shield, Basin Reserve, 1st day, 27 October 2013

http://www.espncricinfo.com/ci/engine/current/match/665525.html

An achievement in cricket watching: being present at the last day of the English season, and at the first of the New Zealand season a month later. Superficially, the scenes were similar; sun beaming from a blue sky. But for the stillness of the St Lawrence there was a nail-your-granny-down northerly at the Basin. I have never changed seats so often during one day’s play, as I attempted to keep out of the wind and in the sun.

It was good to have the opportunity to watch at this time of year. For several seasons almost all pre-Christmas domestic first-class play in New Zealand has been scheduled within the working week, but a change of plan has given those of us who toil at the coalface of the economy the opportunity to watch some cricket. For once, the term “crowd” could be deployed with only a suggestion of irony or hyperbole, there being a couple of hundred present to enjoy the afternoon. The second day is a public holiday (the start of the season should always be celebrated thus).

Jesse Ryder returned to cricket today, something it was feared he might not do in the dark hours that followed the assault he suffered in Christchurch at the end of last season. It is the walls of the visitors dressing room off which he will bounce his bat if things do not go well; he has moved south in search of the peace of mind that will enable him to reclaim his rightful place in the national team.

Brent Arnel has come to the capital from Northern Districts. He joins Mark Gillespie (with whom he was joint leading wicket taker in the Plunket Shield last season) and Andy McKay in what is, on paper at least, as threatening a fast-medium attack as there is in the competition. I trust that Arnel had worked out that as the established leader of the attack it is Gillespie who has the choice of ends, leaving him and McKay to labour into the wind. Within the first half-hour Arnel had been hit for the first six of the season, a top-edged hook by Neil Broom that cleared the JR Reid Gates. You may infer that Otago won the toss and elected to bat, finishing the day on 358 for three.

The score gives a misleading impression of the course of the day. With sharper fielding—a couple of chances went down during the morning—and more luck with the considerable number of edges that fell just short or wide of fielders, Wellington might have had five or six out by lunch. There was more pace in the pitch than is often the case at the Basin, and for the first half of the day at least, it was not the paradise for batsmen and penitentiary for bowlers that the final score suggests.

Arnel finished the day wicketless, but was the pick of the attack. It was McKay—now with the wind—who took the first wicket, trapping Broom, who was well forward, lbw for 32. That was the last success for Wellington until well into the final session as Michael Bracewell joined Aaron Redmond for a partnership of 217, Redmond scoring a career-best 154, Bracewell 107.

Redmond was leading scorer in the Plunkett Shield last season, so with neither Hamish Rutherford nor Peter Fulton consistent as openers, it might be thought that an opening day 150 would have Redmond touted for an opening slot against the West Indies, who are here for three Tests before Christmas. Curiously, his innings here did nothing to advance his claims. There were many fine shots, particularly through the offside, and three sixes. But it was chancy and edgy. As well as getting all the luck that was going before lunch, he was dropped by keeper Ronchi shortly thereafter. The catch would have been comfortable for the only slip had he been positioned at first rather than fadishly at second.  He was also struck be a bad case of the nervous nineties, becoming almost shotless for half an hour before passing the mark. This raises temperament questions.  Redmond was finally dismissed caught behind down the legside off McKay late in the day, his departure from the crease sufficiently delayed to record disagreement with the decision. His final half century was the least spectacular, but most solid of the three.

At 34, Redmond may have had his international day, but the quality of his partner’s innings suggested that the national team could feature a brace of Bracewells sooner rather than later. Michael Bracewell reached his century just after the double-century partnership came up, and included 16 fours. His only six followed, a sweep off Patel over deep (in fact, not so deep, with the pitch being well over to the Museum side) square leg that almost took out an oblivious pedestrian twice, once on its way over the walkway that separates the seats from the field and once as it rebounded off the concrete. I am in favour of this; it will make people pay attention as they saunter through.

Bracewell was out in the same over, overbalancing and bowled around his legs trying to repeat the shot. Patel was too wily.

Which brings us to the Jeetan Patel question: what was he doing here? Or, by way of elucidation, why was he not with the Test team in Bangladesh? Spin resources are thin, with Vettori injured, Bruce Martin not looking quite the part and Ish Sodhi still young. Patel has not featured since the tour of South Africa in the New Year. Yet in the interim he had his second consecutive full county season with Warwickshire, taking 59 wickets to finish as the leading spinner in the top division of the County Championship, a higher level of domestic cricket than the dear old Shield. He bowled well here, finishing with 4 for 124 at a smidgen over three an over without encouragement from the pitch, and would be in my team against the West Indies in December.

Even though there had been two centuries, the event of the day for most spectators was the entry of Ryder in the last hour. After minimal reconnaissance he went on the attack, stroking successive fours through the covers off Woodcock, one off the back foot, one off the front. He gave a chance on 12, top edging a pull high enough for him to take several steps towards the rooms before Woodcock spilled it at square leg. It looked a bad miss, but there is no such thing for a steepler when the wind is up at the Basin. Ryder finished on 48 not out.

Postscript: day two

The northerly at the Basin is conciliatory. An accommodation can be reached to allow you and it to occupy the same space. Not so the southerly, the Arthur Scargill of winds. It was picketing in force on day two, so I only stayed until lunchtime, before retreating to My Life in Cricket Scorecards Towers in balmy Khandallah, where the wind won’t risk the wrath of the Residents’ Association. My Blean correspondent will tell you how indomitable I once was in the face of the elements at early season cricket; but no more.

But I saw Jesse Ryder reach his century, which is what I had hoped for. He was not at his best; his timing was erratic as well it might be after the break he has had. Ryder at 80 percent is still better than almost anything else around. Andy McKay thought it a wheeze to bounce him with two back on the onside boundary. The second four of the over passed the finer man only four metres from his post and he stood not a shred of a chance of getting to it.

He fell for 117 and left the field to a warm reception, gracefully acknowledged.  I would have Jesse Ryder back in international cricket as soon as he wants to be.

The pitch’s early life was misleading advertising. It flattened out and the match subsided into dull drawdom. Let us hope for more spice later in the season.