So, that was the batting sorted out, what to do about the bowling? Many of the bowlers used by England in the series – Willis, Pringle, Cowans, Foster, Cook, and Miller – were either injured or dropped. The selectors stuck a pin in the county averages and came up with Jonathan Agnew and Richard Ellison.
England had lost four Tests in a row and no English team had ever lost a home series 5 – 0. Could they avoid the dreaded ‘whitewash’ or, as the banner at the Oval famously proclaimed, ‘blackwash’?
Clive Lloyd won the toss and chose to bat. England’s new bowling attack soon had the West Indies at 70 for 6. Had the selectors hit upon the magic formula by a lucky accident? Lloyd led a minor (no pun intended) recovery with 60 not out but his team were all out for 190, their lowest score of the series. Ian Botham, well supported by Allott and Ellison, had got five wickets and in the process joined Bob Willis and Fred Trueman on the 300 Test wicket mark.
Chris Broad was out just before the close and Surrey off spinner Pat Pocock, having scored 0 and 0 in the previous Test, was offered up as a sacrificial nightwatchman. He survived the evening session and lasted forty-six minutes the next morning before being out for another duck. Prior to his dismissal, he was on the receiving end of a persistent short pitched barrage that did neither the West Indies nor the umpires any credit.
The Laws of Cricket at the time, as they do still, quite clearly state that “The bowling of short-pitched balls is unfair if, in the opinion of the umpire at the bowler’s end, it constitutes an attempt to intimidate the striker”. The laws go on to say “The relative skill of the striker shall also be taken into consideration.” The sanctions of ‘no ball’, ‘final warning’ and ultimately not allowing the bowler to continue for the rest of the innings were all in place in 1984.
For forty-six minutes, Pocock was protecting himself first and his wicket second. It might seem quite entertaining if you are a West Indian supporter but it was against both the spirit and the laws of cricket. “The relative skill of the striker shall also be taken into consideration.” Pat Pocock played in twenty five Tests and averaged just over 6 with the bat. He played 554 first-class games and averaged 11. Pocock was a tailender. It would have been very easy for the umpire to say to the bowler ‘if you bowl another short pitch ball, I will no ball you.’ The umpires, David Constant and Barrie Meyer, chose not to take this simple action.
It’s always difficult to complain about something when you are getting hammered, and England did not make too much fuss but there is a picture in the 1985 edition of Wisden that sums it up. The heading is ‘The Unacceptable Face of Test Cricket’. It is a photograph of Pocock avoiding a bouncer from Marshall. One foot is off the ground pointing towards square leg. His bat is in the air pointing towards third man and his head is jerked sideways pointing down to fine leg. It is not a picture of a batsman. It is a picture of someone bravely trying to avoid being carried off the pitch to hospital.
Maybe the West Indies were upset because they had been bowled out for under 200? Perhaps their many supporters at the Oval got them going? Maybe they were just being macho? Whatever the motivation, it worked. England were bowled out for 162. Graeme Fowler negotiated the short-pitched onslaught for a time but eventually was hit on the arm and had to leave the field. He came back later and top scored with 31. No one else got over 20.
When the West Indies batted for a second time, they were once again in trouble early on. Jonathan Agnew joined the party and claimed Greenidge and Richards as his first Test victims. Gomes had a rare failure and the Windies were 69 for 3. Almost inevitably, as had happened in all the previous Tests, someone came to their rescue. This time it was Desmond Haynes. He had scored only 100 runs in the series up to that point but he got his head down for seven hours and played with a straight bat. His century, coupled with an entertaining 49 from Dujon, helped his side to a total of 346.
England needed to score 375 to win or bat for ten hours to draw. Neither seemed achievable based on the evidence of the first innings. It was clear which option Tavare had gone for when he occupied the crease for over three hours in scoring 49. Chris Broad also hung around for nearly three hours for his 39. Michael Holding then decided to come off his full run for the first time that summer and promptly blew away England’s middle order. There was time for Botham to hit a quick fire 50 and Pocock to collect his fourth successive duck and England were all out for 202.
England had been ‘blackwashed’, bushwhacked, beaten and bruised. The 1984 West Indies team were undoubtedly a very good team but there was something slightly unedifying about the manner of their victory. Two England players had ended up in hospital never to play Test cricket again. Most of the time, short-pitched bowling was the rule rather than the exception. Physical intimidation was the order of the day with the ball frequently aimed at the England batsman rather than at their wicket. And the worst thing of all was that our bowlers couldn’t do it back to them!
Pringle strived to get his pace above military medium and ended up bowling eighteen ‘no balls’ in an innings. Bob Willis was coming to the end of his career and could no longer muster the sustained hostility he was capable of in his younger days. When Botham, Allott and Ellison did manage to get amongst the West Indian batsmen, it was achieved by intelligent use of seam and swing not by bowling at their heads
The umpires of the day seemed unwilling or unable to enforce the laws of the game and restrict the use of short-pitched bowling. Robin Marlar, writing in the Sunday Times at the end of the tour, gives due credit to the West Indians. They were well led by Clive Lloyd, their batting had depth and reliability and their fast bowlers were controlled and penetrative. He examines England’s weaknesses but also speculates how the West Indian batsmen, or indeed any batsmen, would have coped with the West Indies attack. He concludes by saying that the essence of cricket is the defence of the stumps by the batsman, not the defence of the body and that, in his opinion, the way the West Indies team was playing was deeply offensive to the spirit of cricket.
Eventually, a specific law had to be brought in to deal with short-pitched bowling. First of all a ‘maximum of one bouncer per over’ rule was experimented with and then the ‘two bouncers per over’ rule, which we still have today, was established. Although some fast bowlers may disagree, this seems to work. Persistent bowling of bouncers is either dangerous, if aimed at the head, or a negative tactic if continually passing above the head. A bouncer is far more effective as a surprise weapon.
So, in the battles of 1984, Clive Lloyd had unequivocally prevailed over David Gower. I don’t want to spoil it for those who haven’t read Nineteen Eighty-Four but Big Brother gives Winston Smith a right going over. Margaret Thatcher’s ‘victory’ over Arthur Scargill was perhaps not so clear cut. She was triumphant but Scargill always claimed that “the greatest victory in the strike was the struggle itself.”
We can only hope that the miners and their families who suffered twelve months of poverty and hardship agreed with him. The strike eventually ended in March 1985. Thatcher had defeated the so called ‘enemy within’. Many of the pits were closed and communities destroyed. Manufacturing industry continued to decline and Britain became a haven for bankers and estate agents. At least the economy was safe in the hands of the financial sector. What could possibly go wrong?
Big Brother, Margaret Thatcher and Clive Lloyd all won in 1984 but it’s not always winning that is important, it’s how you win. If you win but in the process humiliate your opponent, does that not tarnish the victory? Watching proper batsmen face fast bowlers is one of the pleasures of Test cricket. Sometimes the batsman wins – Roy Fredericks against Dennis Lillee and Jeff Thomson at Perth in 1975. Michael Atherton taking on Allan Donald at Trent Bridge in 1998. Kevin Pietersen versus Brett Lee at the Oval in 2005. Sometimes the bowler wins – Curtly Ambrose against the Australians at Perth in 1992. Devon Malcolm destroying the South Africans at the Oval in 1994.
When the fight is even, it is great to watch. When it is a hapl
ess tailender like Pocock being subjected to continuous intimidatory bowling deliberately aimed at his body, it is tantamount to bullying.
Overall, the tour had been a great success for the West Indies. They had won all five Tests, and were unbeaten in all other first-class matches. The only game they lost on the tour was the second One-Day International when, amazingly, Derek Pringle was man of the match with 3 for 21 off 10 overs.
The Pocock incident was undoubtedly a blemish, as was the West Indies Cricket Board’s refusal to agree to a minimum number of overs in the day. Before the ICC had the power to regulate such things, it was up to the Boards of both countries to agree the conditions of play. The result in 1984 was that the West Indies maintained an average over rate of below fourteen overs an hour throughout the series. England had a similar over rate but they can be excused because of the time they spent looking for the ball after it had been dispatched by Greenidge, Gomes, Richards and even on occasions, Holding.
England did not have long to wait for the chance of redemption. They were scheduled to tour the West Indies in the winter of 1985/86. Revenge is a dish best served cold, apparently. Unfortunately for Gower and his team, it is particularly hot in the West Indies at that time of year.8
6 Sachin Tendulkar became the first player to score a double century in an ODI when he got 200 not out against South Africa in February 2010. Charles Coventry with 194 not out for Zimbabwe against Bangladesh (Zimbabwe lost!) and Saeed Anwar with 194 for Pakistan against India are the other players to have beaten Sir Viv’s score.
7 See Mike Gatting’s description of the protests in South Africa to the England ‘rebel’ tour of 1990.
8 England suffered a ‘blackwash’ once again, losing the Test series 5 – 0. As in 1984, they had a single ODI victory as a consolation.
4. Australia tour of India, 2001
There are some songs that, when you first hear them, make such an impression that you just have to listen to them again, immediately. I’m not talking about songs that make you think, ‘that’s good, I wouldn’t mind hearing that again.’ There are plenty of songs like that. No, these are songs that obsess you for days on end.
It doesn’t happen very often but when it does, it temporarily takes over your life. A lot of people tend to associate ‘special’ songs with other significant things that happen in their life. The songs I am referring to are rarely influenced by outside factors or special events. They just happen. One day you are going about your business and the next, you can’t get the song out of your head.
It’s a very personal thing. Others may like the song but not necessarily share the same fixation. Over the years, I have been afflicted every now and then by this obsession. Mr Big by Free, I’ll Be Your Lover Too by Van Morrison, Last To Die by Bruce Springsteen and La Cienega Just Smiled by Ryan Adams are a few that have made their mark.
I have the same thing with certain cricketers which I will come to in a moment but first there is Bob Dylan to deal with. The best way to appreciate Dylan is to listen to whole albums. Why would you want to pick out one particular song from Blood On The Tracks or John Wesley Harding when they are all brilliant? With the advent of CDs, iPods, iTunes, Spotify and the rest, there is an increasing tendency for people to listen to individual tracks only. CDs and iPods are marvellous, of course they are, but some things have been lost with the demise of vinyl.
There are lots of great Dylan songs but only one has really grabbed me in the ‘obsessional’ sense. This may have something to do with the fact that it wasn’t released on an album so it has to be listened to in isolation. Not only was it not released on an album, it wasn’t finished, has never been performed by Dylan and was only recorded once.
The decision by Todd Haynes to call his 2007 film about Bob Dylan I’m Not There was inspired. The sound track CD of the film features covers of Dylan songs and contains just one song by Dylan himself – the “legendary, never-released, never-completed song” I’m Not There. At last the song had been officially released and everyone had the chance to listen to it, obsessively or otherwise.
I have the same mild fixation with certain cricketers. As with the songs, there is a distinction between players that I have enjoyed watching and reading about and players that I have a slightly unhealthy interest in.
It started with D.E.V. Padgett. I never saw him play but he was the only member of the Yorkshire team in the 1960s who had three initials. His name and initials resonated with me in some strange way and I would always check the Yorkshire scorecard to see how he had got on before looking for G. Boycott, D.B. Close, J.G. Binks and the rest.
The V stands for Vernon and many years later I would play cricket in the same team as a West Indian called Vernon. D.E.V. Padgett (even now it would seem presumptuous to refer to him as Doug) was most definitely not a West Indian. Born and bred in Bradford, he made his début for Yorkshire in 1951 at the age of 16. He was selected for a couple of Tests but never quite made the grade. He continued to play for the county of his birth for twenty years before retiring in 1971 to become Yorkshire’s coach.
When he was a child, Michael Vaughan turned up to watch Yorkshire playing at Sheffield. During the tea interval, he was playing on the outfield with his friends when Doug Padgett spotted him and approached him about joining the county. Vaughan was born in Manchester, and at the time Yorkshire had a strict policy of only picking players that were born in Yorkshire (unless your name happened to be Lord Hawke.) Years later, when the rule was removed, Padgett checked up on the young Vaughan and offered him a place at the Yorkshire academy.
If Padgett hadn’t recognised the latent talent, maybe Vaughan wouldn’t have played first-class cricket, wouldn’t have captained his country and maybe England would not have won the Ashes in 2005. It’s all down to D.E.V. Padgett. Even now, when looking at a Yorkshire scorecard of the 1960s, I am drawn to Padgett’s name and have to check how he got on. I would like to stress that I don’t look at old Yorkshire scorecards all the time. Just every now and then.
Merely having three initials isn’t sufficient. M.J.K. Smith never really did it for me. The M.J.K. really only distinguished him from all the other Smiths. K.W.R. Fletcher was always Keith Fletcher or sometimes even Fletch. The Headingley crowd called him other things when he was selected ahead of P.J. (Phil) Sharpe and dropped three difficult chances in the slips on his début against the Australians in 1968.
When Isaac Vivian Alexander Richards started to play for Somerset and the West Indies, all my prayers were answered. Not only did he have three initials, including a V, he was an absolutely wonderful player. For a number of years he was possibly the coolest man on the planet. When I.V.A. Richards came out to bat, the cricket ground was his stage and all the other players merely the supporting cast.
His brilliant career was preordained. He had an older brother, D. Richards, who played five first-class games and a younger brother, M. Richards, who played just one. It was Viv who was given the three initials and, although his mother apparently thought his brother Mervin was a more talented player, it was Viv who went on to play 121 Test matches and become a legend in his own lifetime.
Although I had other favourites over the years, it wasn’t until V.V.S. Laxman came along that I had a player to really obsess about again. It was in 2001 that V.V.S. Laxman first burst into my consciousness. There was something incredibly exotic about his name and initials. Not just one V but two, and an S thrown in for good measure. To add to his mystique, his surname had an X in it. Not many cricketers can say that. Good game to play at a Test match when rain stops play: Ted Dexter, Martyn Moxon, Roger Prideaux, Paul Nixon. There must be more?
As well as having an exotic surname and wonderful initials, Vangipurappu Venkata Sai Laxman is also a sublime cricketer. He made an indelible mark on Test cricket during the Australian tour of India in 2001.
The Australian team, led by Steve Waugh, arrived in India with fifteen successive victories behind them. Seemingly they were unbeatable, vying with the 1948
Australians to be called the Invincibles, but they needed a series win in India to really prove themselves. No Australian team had won a series in India for thirty-one years.
Two days before the First Test in Mumbai, Sir Don Bradman died. Steve Waugh promised that the Australians would perform in a way that would make ‘the Don’ proud. Waugh won the toss and took a chance by inviting India to bat first. The pitch was a good one and putting India in meant that Australia would have to bat last on it.
Waugh’s faith in his bowlers was rewarded. India were bowled out for 176, with only Tendulkar making a significant contribution. When Australia batted, they also struggled. They collapsed to 99 for 5 and it looked like Steve Waugh’s gamble had failed. Three hours later, they were in a commanding position.
Adam Gilchrist joined Matthew Hayden and proceeded to smash 122 off 112 balls, including fifteen fours and four sixes. The Indian bowlers had no answer to his aggressive sweeping and pulling. Hayden cast aside his early circumspection and joined in the fun. He reached his century one over after Gilchrist.
India didn’t do much better second time around. Once again only Tendulkar batted with any confidence before he was out to a diving catch from Ponting. Australia only needed 47 to win and the openers knocked them off by the end of the third day.
Australia moved on to Kolkata one up in a three match series. They had won their sixteenth successive match and looked likely to be the first Australian team to win a Test series in India since Bill Lawry’s side in 1969/70. This probability seemed a certainty after they scored 445 despite a Harbhajan Singh hat trick that included the hero of the First Test, Adam Gilchrist, first ball.
Spirit On The Water Page 5