cricket with balls

There are many ways to work out how much talent a young cricketer has.

You could ask some old war horse who sits at every first class game and remembers when Neil Harvey was around.

Another is to see how many media outlets start talking him up even when he doesn’t do anything that special.

My favourite has always been the giggle test.

If a young guy is so exciting, so audacious, so cocky and so talented that the commentators actually giggle a little he must be the best thing to happen to the world of cricket since legspin.

Umar Akmal passes this test.

While he was disembowelling Peter Siddle the channel nine commentary box turned into a gaggle of Japanese school girls (not the ones from Battle Royale).

It turned from a clinical discussion of mobile phones, 3D cricket memorabilia and terribly interesting TV shows into a LOL fest.

There was snorting at times, surprised guffawing at others.

Bill Lawry may have soiled himself at one point.

That must mean that Umar is pretty good.

I think he is good, even if I don’t don’t gasp publicly about it.

Eventually when the excitable giggling subsided the comparisons started. You can’t have a talented young cricketer unless he is compared to someone earlier.

Richie thought he looked like a young James Dean, showing the angst of Cal Trask.

Tony thought that Umar’s attack showed he was a fan of existentialism, living like Meursault did, in the moment whilst having no sense of absurdity. Bill thought that was pretentious, but thought Umar’s infectiousness was like Dorothy’s Toto.

Mark Nicholas thought Umar showed the flair of Slater, the determination of Lawry, the soft hands of Healy, the angry demeanour of Chappell, the boyish charm of Warne, the luck of Grieg and the overall super human qualities of Richie Benaud.

Somehow it was better when they were just giggling and making other weird noises.

my ashes book