The Language of Batting

On a May Saturday morning on which Dublin Bay, looking across from Blackrock to Howth in the shimmering sun, was just a little reminiscent of the bays of the western Cape, cricket was on people’s minds. Well, some people, anyway.

To the lad in the newsagents who asked if the game was ‘up at Trinity’ it didn’t mean a lot, but to the Irishman in the White Rose cap at the station, whose self-proclaimed hero was Geoffrey Boycott, this, with Friday’s rain behind us, was the day of days. The culmination of years spent waiting, but never quite believing.

Cricket in Ireland has had its ups and downs. From proscription by the GAA to bowling the West Indies out for 25; from beating England at the World Cup to being denied the opportunity to compete in it again without having to qualify. It has never been a popular sport in the wider sense, but it has held its own. This, both literally and metaphorically, was Irish cricket’s day in the sun.

The DART train grows steadily fuller as the stations, with their familiar names from the worlds of sport and revolutionary politics - Lansdowne Road, Pearse, Connolly - pass. The English county hardcore are there, with their dog-eared hats, their trusty bags and their leftfield conversational gambits. As the crowds pour through the barriers at Malahide Station, a Lancashire fan seems more concerned with solar eclipses of the future than with the first Test match on Irish soil. The world’s cricketers are there too; a French international, born in India, but living in Dublin, talks of his overwhelming desire to see Mohammad Amir bowl. This day he will be disappointed. But, above all, the Irish cricket family is there. This is a day they have waited for for longer than most can remember and their characteristic bonhomie barely veils the air of suppressed excitement.

At the lovely tree-ringed arena in the grounds of a castle, it is the same; a feeling of togertheness, pride and faith. In the programme there is a summary of the laws of cricket for the uninitiated, but the impression is that this isn’t really needed. Possibly on account of its smaller size, this crowd appears more knowledgeable than the average Test crowd in England; these are players, administrators, members of the cricket family. Unlike a typical Test match in England, nobody seems to be there just to get drunk and draw attention to themselves. The cheerleader in the huge green top hat - ‘Larry Leprechaun’ - draws attention to himself, but he doesn’t need to be drunk to do so. A walk behind the stands reveals members of the family from both sides of the border who have done the hard yards - the ODIs at home, maybe some trips to Europe, or Scotland, or Lord’s, perhaps even a World Cup or two - greeting each other and swapping reminiscences as they absorb where they are and what they’re watching.

Play begins with a collision. It could easily be described as a clash of cricketing cultures, but this is really more mundane; it is simply a meeting of bodies of the type which, though not commonplace or required by the structure of the game, happens from time to time. There is plenty of laughter; ice is broken, and the game moves on.

Anyone who cares enough about what happened at Malahide to be reading this will know what happened at Malahide, so a blow-by-blow account is unnecessary. Vignettes come thick and fast, though.

Saturday afternoon. Tim Murtagh has played in more than 200 first-class matches and taken over 700 wickets. With his grooved, economical action and undemonstrative demeanour, he embodies the skill and nobility of the English county seamer. He has bowled sides out, he has won the County Championship, but he has never before played Test cricket, or even been close to doing so. So, as the hazy sun warms the ground and he walks towards the hospitality tents and reticently acknowledges the crowd’s applause, his thoughts can only be imagined. For him, late in his career, this must be the time of times.

Just after lunch on Sunday, Niall O’Brien is lbw to Mohammad Abbas and Ireland are 7 for 4 in their first innings. As he leaves the field there is that sudden hush you get, even in crowded places, when bad things are happening and people, through fear and embarrassment, can’t find the words to express what they’re feeling. What they’re feeling is the sudden realisation that things are as bad - and probably worse - than they could have imagined. New Zealand’s 26 all out in 1955, still the lowest Test total, is mentioned. They can surely only improve from here.

They can, but it takes time.

When Pakistan enforce the follow-on with Ireland 180 behind, the two Irish openers, William Porterfield, the captain, and Ed Joyce, stride to the wicket for the second time in the day. This, to a professional batsman, is as bad as it can get. You should never have to bat twice in a single day.

Joyce and Porterfield. Porterfield and Joyce. They sound like a firm of Dublin accountants, and they go on to bat like that as they take Ireland to 64 without loss by stumps. Ed Joyce is 39 now, a little slower on his feet and more careworn around the eyes, but the distinctive, crouching stance is still there, as is the muscle memory of years of elegant run scoring. All over the county circuit, in the world’s cricketing outposts, for England at the Sydney Cricket Ground. He knows what the situation demands.

Porterfield is younger, but his better days are also behind him and he is a less naturally fluent player than his partner. But he has also experienced situations like this before when the county circuit was his place of work. They both understand the language of batting, and the session leading to the close on Sunday evening is resonant and moving. Both Porterfield and Joyce are simultaneously fighting the dying of the light and lighting the way forward for their country’s cricket. It is tough as hell, but by the day’s end there is renewed hope.

This is confirmed on Monday, as Kevin O’Brien - ‘Big Kev’, known in many places just as a white ball hitter - builds on the poise and common sense he showed in the first innings to become his country’s first Test centurion and take his team to a position of relative strength. In the end it isn’t enough, but the feeling that this has been a triumph can’t be shaken.

We won’t talk about it as Irish cricket’s ‘coming of age’. It’s a hoary old cliche, and, in any case, it probably ‘came of age’ in the West Indies in 2007, or even at Sion Mills in 1969. Whatever.

And we won’t say that it’ll save Test cricket, because it won’t. Test cricket isn’t beyond saving, but Ireland’s performance in this match won’t affect its future one way or the other.

No, this was just about how it felt to be there. And it felt really good.

There are, of course, clouds on the horizon. It has taken a very long time for this team to achieve the right to play Test cricket and many of the players have grown old together. Before long, new blood will need to be found.

But that can wait for another day. For now, the sun still shines on Dublin Bay.

Selection Issues

The England selectors' decision to recall Ian Bell and Ryan Sidebottom to the squad for the Durham Test seemed a bit odd, and it doesn't seem likely that either will play.

Bell's made one ton in the Championship and one in the Friends Provident, but, as ever, has mixed in a few abortive starts. Sidebottom has bowled a fair number of overs and taken a few wickets.

Both, though, need more than they've produced so far. Bell requires more and more runs, Sidebottom needs to remain fully fit well into July and be taking consistent wickets to come back into consideration, although, with the suspicion being that a little more experience may be wanted against Australia, he may just be back sooner rather than later.

A player who's already been selected in the England squad for the World Twenty20 and who may start to show his hand elsewhere before too long is Middlesex's young Irishman Eoin Morgan. When I got back from Scotland on Monday morning I slumped on my sofa and watched him destroy Kent with a tremendous display of ingenuity and power and it didn't surprise me at all. I first saw him play at Bath in 2006 and he immediately looked like a classy operator.

While another Middlesex Irishman, Ed Joyce, seemed to me to be poorly treated and prematurely discarded by England, one's feeling - and hope - is that Morgan may be around a lot longer.

Rough Deal

It's been a fairly quiet week. The only major news stories in this neck of the woods have been India's narrow failure to win their first tour match at Hove, the ECB's decision to order Worcestershire to re-play the Kent game (which was eventually - and inevitably - abandoned), and the preliminary England squad for the Twenty20 World Cup in September.

For what it's worth I think the ECB got it just about right over Worcestershire, although I wouldn't expect the people in charge of other counties who have been badly affected by the weather in this bedraggled season to agree. A ticking-off for what was undoubtedly a major cock-up (New Road was never going to be ready in time and it was deceitful at worst and deluded at best to pretend otherwise) and Friday's Pro 40 game moved to Derby, together with some financial assistance to help with the clean-up.

The news which everyone has grabbed from the Twenty20 squad has been the returns of Marcus Trescothick and, to a lesser extent, Chris Schofield. One after a journey into mental turmoil and the other after a sojourn in Minor County cricket. In truth the selection of Marcus was a no-brainer - the squad has still to be whittled down and he can easily be cut from it if he starts to have doubts about the trip - but I think he'll be there. If he isn't all bets are off for the future of his career.

As for who won't be there, am I alone in feeling that Ed Joyce has had a rough deal somewhere along the line? Okay, his form did fade in the West Indies but this is someone with an ODI hundred against Australia, which is a tad more than Mal Loye (highest score 45) can boast.

Heavy Blows

Although I spent most of the afternoon out watching rugby in the glorious Devon sunshine, yesterday seemed to me like the day when the first Caribbean World Cup really hit its stride.

England eased past Kenya with the type of display which has all too often seemed beyond them in the one-day arena, typified by some excellent fielding and a characteristically smooth and stylish innings by Ed Joyce. The signs are that they're starting to regain their focus and may just be able to get back to the form they were showing at the end of the Australian tour, but it'll be difficult to be certain about this until they play another major nation. And, with Ireland awaiting them in Guyana as the Super Eights open, it'll be a while before that happens.

However, the day's other game, between Australia and South Africa in St.Kitts, showed England what they're up against. Here were two of the game's biggest beasts flexing their muscles and landing some heavy blows in glorious weather, amid breathtaking scenery, in front of a large and noisy crowd and on a pitch oozing runs. In the end, as 377 played 294, Australia were the ones left standing, and you have to wonder who, when they're playing like this, will be able to live with them. The type of coruscating strokes which flowed from the bats of Hayden, Gilchrist, Ponting and Clarke are a given, but they'll be especially happy with the way their bowling and fielding stood up to the pressure which South Africa applied. The ageing McGrath (much like the ageing Shaun Pollock) took some stick but Nathan Bracken and Shaun Tait, whose brand of 90 mph plus inswinging yorker has barely been seen on the international stage since Waqar Younis was at his best, held things together and made important breakthroughs when they were most needed.

They'll take some stopping, and, of the teams I've seen so far, Sri Lanka look best placed to do so, although it's hard to judge where the West Indies stand and they certainly can't be ruled out.

Nor can South Africa, and the lasting impression left by their innings was the strokeplay of AB de Villiers, the achingly talented and versatile former prodigy who's had a few troubles over the last year or so, but who, at Warner Park, showed what he can do when the muse is really with him.

This, it seemed to me as I watched the highlights this morning, was how the World Cup in the West Indies was meant to be, and it went some way towards blunting the pall of gloom cast by the Woolmer murder and confirming the correctness of the ICC's decision to continue with the competition.

If this is what it's going to be like, then bring it on.

An Unfamiliar Feeling

I saw a fair amount of England's first ODI win over Australia in Australia since January 1999 on either side of a brief trip into the gorgeous Exe Valley for a pre-arranged, work-related, meeting.

It looked as though they were good value for it, and it was especially pleasurable to see Ed Joyce confirm the improvement he'd shown in the last game against New Zealand and go on to get a hundred. I've seen him make good runs for Middlesex on a number of occasions and have a high regard for his abilities, but I was beginning to doubt him earlier in the series when he was repeatedly getting out for low scores in the middle-order and his body language seemed to betray his dwindling confidence.

Mal Loye assisted him well at the top of the order, Belly played his usual quality cameo (when will he really cash in?) and there was plenty of good bowling (chiefly from Liam Plunkett) and sharp fielding.

More of the same, please.

Reprising Disaster

Just about the only good thing (apart from some reasonable bowling and fielding) about England's heavy defeat to New Zealand in Adelaide yesterday was the fact that Ed Joyce at last made some runs. Although, to me, he still didn't look himself. Having seen Joyce make a few runs for Middlesex, I've got the impression that although in many ways he's reminiscent of Graham Thorpe, he is, in reality, a much more fragile talent. More Gower than Thorpe, in fact, but without Gower's towering ability. I'd like to see him make a success of his nascent international career, but I've got my doubts about whether he'll do so, or even get much of a chance to, which would be a pity.

But then everything about England is currently pitiful, and this magnificently splenetic Andrew Miller piece from Cricinfo sums things up beautifully.

One word of warning, though, Andrew. I know it must currently seem hideous to be doing what you're doing (and I'm not even sure I'd like to be in your shoes just now) but never forget that, when it comes down to it, you're being paid to watch cricket.

Most of us would take that. Even if England are playing.

Marcus

This was also the first week in which Marcus Trescothick has ever been dropped from the England team, being replaced in the side for yesterday's game by another player for whom I have a lot of time, Middlesex's Irishman Ed Joyce. Joyce began well, striking two boundaries off Shoaib before edging a catch behind off Mohammad Asif, but anybody can do that. Hopefully he'll be around for a lot longer.

As for Marcus, well, I'm not so sure. He's been struggling for form all summer, and his exclusion from the side came on the back of an announcement that he was suffering from an unspecified 'stress-related illness', and wouldn't be travelling to the ICC Champions Trophy, although there seems no question, as perhaps Fletcher's ultimate protege, of him failing to make the plane to Australia. His days on the international cricket treadmill, however, seem numbered. His premature return from India earlier this year was shrouded in mystery, although it seemed obvious that domestic problems were at the root of it, and this week came the acknowledgement in the press that his wife has been suffering from post-natal depression, not an easy thing to cope with if your partner is in constant attendance but even harder if he's away playing cricket on an almost permanent basis. However, it now appears as though the explanation given by the ECB 'media machine' (hardly an appropriate metaphor, but you know what I mean and I can't think of anything better just now) and himself some time after he returned from India - that he was suffering from 'a virus' - may have had more truth in it than was supposed at the time by most people. The bottom line is probably that more than five years of almost constant travelling and playing has taken a toll on Trescothick's health, and it may be that he needs to take a permanent step off the treadmill in order to regain the equilibrium that used to be such an admirable and essential facet of his character, and, by extension, his batting.

Although I've never met him, I have watched Marcus bat regularly for more than a decade now, from his days in the England Under-19 side, through his early struggles with Somerset to his years at the top of the England order. As a number of media commentators have said, he's a humble, personable, consistent man who loves cricket and especially batting. But it's becoming increasingly clear that he's finding it harder and harder to cope with the amount of time he has to spend away from his family.

My money would be on him retiring from One-Day Internationals sooner rather than later, perhaps after the World Cup, a move which would hopefully prolong his Test career. He will, though, need to score some runs.

Brisbane wouldn't be a bad place to start.