cricket with balls

Rudolf Eric Koertzen. A name sufficiently Germanic to strike a tremor in the heart of a batsman, and that is before he set foot on the cricket field.

The thing about Random Rudi is that he always was, well, Random Rudi. You knew exactly what you were going to get with him – the odd decision so brilliant that you thought ‘How the hell did he get that right?’, balanced by the howler that made you think ‘How the hell did he get that wrong?’.

There is a myth that his decision making became increasingly flawed over the years. Yes, he was one of the umpires who cocked up the end of the 2007 World Cup Final, but he was one of four who got that wrong and, frankly, it was utterly hypocritical of the ICC to suspend any of them for a mistake in a tournament which they themselves had so comprehensively buggered in the first place.

Rudi was never a showy umpire like Bowden on Shepherd, but neither was  he a blend-into-the-background type. The closest he came to a trademark was his ’slow death’ finger of dismissal and even then it was no slower than Bucknor’s. In fact, when in recent times he grew a beard, there were many diehard fans who failed to recognise him at all.

Sometimes we expect too much from our umpires. We expect them to be infallible, when we allow the players to be less than that. In an age where umpiring is increasingly scrutinised by technology, it is arguable that Rudi did his reputation no favours by staying on for the last couple of years, allowing his reputation as a fine umpire who was respected by the players to be tarnished. On the other hand, it is to his credit that he didn’t go sooner and submitted himself to that kind of interrogation.

In truth, in the mythical match where you are having to bat for your life, you wouldn’t want to have Rudi at the other end. You’d want someone less likely to give you ought caught off your thigh. Or shoulder. Or teeth. If, on the other hand, you wanted to know that the guy at the far end was utterly unscrutable but quite likely to have a drink with you after the game, Rudi was your man. As we usher in an age where television is increasingly the arbiter and all an umpire needs to do is to count to six, we may never see umpires as good as we have now again. Which it is why it is a shame that any of them – even those you may not be greatly enamoured of – retire. You’ll miss Koertzen more than you think you will.

As Radiohead almost said*, anyone can score a hundred. Anyone. Jrod’s done it. I’ve done it. Hell, even Monty Panesar has done it. All it takes is timing, a bit of good fortune, a lot of patience and, in my case, the rather benign bowling of your own grandfather.

Scoring a hundred is child’s play. Sachin Tendulkar has almost a hundred of them in international cricket alone, and he’s only 3′6″ in his stockinged feet. Scoring 99 is something special, though. Scoring 99 not out even more so. After all, given the number of hundreds that are scored around the world, how many of them are truly memorable? But a 99? Well, just about everyone remembers those. From Mike Atherton falling flat on his arse against Australia at Lord’s in 1993 (he never did make a hundred there), to Shane Warne butchering his chance of a maiden first class ton against New Zealand in 2001, 99s are the kind of innings that fix themselves in your memory.

An unbeaten 99 is even more special, because history shows it is almost never the fault of the guy who made the runs. Sometimes it is pure ineptness at the other end, like Dewald Pretorius failing to survive two balls from James Kirtley so that Andrew Hall could make his maiden international hundred. At others, it is pure selfishness, like Graham Thorpe denying Alex Tudor the first century by a nightwatchman in Test history, against New Zealand in 1999.

To this list, we can now add Michael Clarke. He may have benefited from the most significant drop in the annals of Australian cricket since Lara Bingle’s knickers hit Brendan Fevola’s shower room floor, but Clarke can take solace in the fact that the only thing which stood between him and a truly forgettable one day hundred was the selfishness of a cheese-faced toddler named Steven Smith. Really, he should be grateful.

(*Radiohead wrote a song called ‘Anyone Can Play Guitar’, and have since devoted their entire career to proving themselves wrong)

Today a pointless one dayer had a moment of pure cricket goodness.

Johan Botha got a leading edge into his face.

This leading edge had enough force on it to wedge itself between three hard places, the grill, the lid of the helmet and the Robotic Kevin Bacon face of Johan Botha.

Just the ball getting wedged in the grill is a great scene, but for him then to take off the helmet, with ball still wedged, and reveal his now bloody face, that is just awesomeness wrapped in just more awesomeness.

This was the proof I didn’t want, that Johan Botha is human.

Blood on the face of a batsmen is about my favourite place for blood to be.

And this was oozing out of his eye at a decent rate.

Usually the best part would be the blood on the pitch, but Botha took it to new extremes.  The dude got blood on the ball.

I’m sure it has happened before, but generally that would be on a red ball, one day cricket finally made sense to me when that ball just had a dollop of red stuff on it.

Botha retired hurt, and the ball was replaced.

The story doesn’t end though as Botha’s face was kept together with sticky tape and chewing gum and he was sent back out.

But here is where the script writers fucked up, the ball didn’t come back.

If I was Botha I would have walked back out and demanded that the bloody ball be re-introduced.

Even if it was just for one ball.

Imagine the story, dude gets smacked in the face, loses blood on the ball, comes back without any bandages only a few overs left and the fast bowler is using the ball that is soaked in his blood.

That is my kind of cricket.

Afghanistan – Turned up with a bowling unit that most Minnows would be proud of, but their bowlers also ended up being their batting.

They were very loud, but showed real aptitude, but were kicked out of the library after being caught urinating on the technique books.

Australia – Finally selected a T20 team and got a test player to captain it. Took the gamble on 3 front line bowlers and it worked until their batsmen bottled it in the final.

Bullied their way around the schoolyard, and everyone sucked up to them. Next time they should stay focused until the end of the day.

Bangladesh – Tried hard at times but never had the firepower to scare Australia or Pakistan.

Truancy is a problem, if Tamim isn’t around the rest of the boys lose confidence. Perhaps they were promoted too quickly and could do well if they were to repeat this grade a few times.

England – Was the best performed and coached side in the entire tournament, Wright at six was a gamble, but their middle order stuck around and they deserved to win.

Polite, courteous, well mannered and simply a delight to teach. About time too, before this they were a disorganized bore that should have been spanked daily.

India – Arrived with a hangover, played like they were in a coma, picked the wrong side and then performed like their entire family had been killed by drunk drivers.

Spank them, send them to bed without their dinner, cut all extra curricular activities and make sure you give them a curfew.

Ireland – Showed yet again that they are a plucky yet largely untalented bunch. Bowling display against England was a masterclass in bowling slow seam.

Since Eoin has moved classes the Irish boys have looked slightly stupid, it might be time for remedial studies, again.

New Zealand – At times it felt like they were in the tournament, but that they also weren’t. They beat 2 of the Semi finalists, but not in the semi finals.

A very eager student who would do extra work than required, it was just that their best work was only just a pass.

Pakistan – Were shocking, brilliant and wonderfully insane, just like Pakistan should be. Need a captain, not an excitable poodle.

Were truant at the start of the semester, then came in late doing lots of work to try catch up. They almost passed but it wouldn’t be fair to students who turned up all the time, like M Hussey.

South Africa – had one of the bowlers of the tournament in Charl Langeveldt, and almost no one else. Picked the wrong team, stayed with the wrong teamand then failed to actually chase Pakistan’s total.

These boys are clearly too old for schooling, and didn’t look interested either. Perhaps getting them into the workforce would benefit them.

Sri Lanka – Surfed the wave of Mahela all the way to the finals, but outside of him and some isolated performances they were pretty ordinary.

Had one mature age student who was of no use, a cool student who didn’t seem interested and some experimental student who produced very little. Very disappointed in them.

West Indies – Teams who host these tournaments are usually useless, the West Indies proved that rule.

The entire class sit around waiting for Chris Gayle to do the work, and he can’t always be bothered. Andre Fletcher needs private tuition or home schooling.

Zimbabwe – Had a great array of spinners and almost entirely nothing else. Played good honest cricket, but are missing several components.

They seemed to be driven by fear of being spanked by their parents, but are generally a very poor academic group. I don’t want to alarm anyone, but Ray Price is surely too old to be at school, and I think I saw him beat up the Lunch Lady.

There have been very few South African cricketers that I have cared about at all.

Andre Nel, Pat Symcox and Brian McMillan were all favourites, but mostly because I assumed they were all insane, a character flaw I like in cricketers.

Of the cricketers that are less likely to kill you, Mark Boucher is the one South African who I admire the most.

I probably shouldn’t. Boucher’s record with the bat is poor for a modern keeper, and while he started brilliantly (even breaking a record of the great Darren Chuck Berry) with the gloves I should be disappointed that over the years his keeping has faded to its current levels.

He is just a tough son of a bitch.

There is a lot of posturing in South African cricket. Men who talk up how hard they are, stand tall, beat average cricketers, and then ultimately fail when the real test is put on them.

Boucher was there for when that was at its very worst, but the mud never stuck on him.

His toughness was not painted on before getting on the field, he just seemed tough. Yet he still had a face of a guy you could take home for your mother.

And that is not to say he didn’t do his share of fucking up, his D/L fuck up against Murali cost South Africa a chance of choking later in the 03 world cup.

There was a touch of old school about him. An inner mongrel that had to be admired. Every time he came in to bat his average would flash up on the screen and I’d be shocked at how low it was.

He was a throw back to when your wicket keeper was your son of a bitch who was in the team because he could be handy in a fight and he batted that way. He didn’t score runs, he earnt them. He had some pretty shots, but he also had slogs, bunts, scrappiness about him.

Early on in his career he was a keeper’s keeper. Over the years his footwork got sloppy, his hands less sure, and perhaps had he not been such a mentally strong team man he would have disappeared.

That he didn’t showed the value he brought to the camp. He was kept there to be the spine in an often spineless team.

I always thought he would make a good leader, but he seemed to relish the role of second in charge. Baulking at opportunities to take over that never made sense to me, but he knows his limitations better than most. And as Clint Eastwood once mumbled, “a man’s got to know his limitations”.

Now, and not for the first time, South Africa is using an alternative. Someone with way more talent than Boucher (at least in batting), but little of the fortitude. In the past this has meant little and eventually they go back to Boucher, not for his skill, but for every thing else he brings.

At 33, they might still go back to him, and he might even keep his test job for a little while longer. But this is the beginning of the end, Boucher is a strong man, but South African cricket needs to look into the future, and he is at the wrong age for that.

If you were leaving a pub and walking down a back alley late at night with Boucher beside you when you were surround by 4 heavy looking dudes with knives, you’d almost back yourself to survive it. He is gristle, and you just feel that while he may not help you beat the 4 dudes, he may be able to fight them off long enough to get away.

There may have been bigger, scarier looking and better players than Boucher in the South African team over the years, but he’d be the one for me in a grubby back alley knife fight.