Lily 'Ashes' Allen

Just when you think it's all over, there's cricket. Having wrenched The Ashes from the long term grasp of arch rivals, the Aussies, in that balmy summer of 2005 only to promptly lose them again by being completely whitewashed 5-0 down under in the winter tour of 2006/7, the England cricket team have confounded us all by reclaiming the diminutive urn this summer – and without Pieterson and Freddie Flintoff for much of the series. I am amazed.

But I am more amazed by cricket’s new patron – Lily Allen. Was it not her being interviewed by Jonathon ‘Aggers’ Agnew on Radio 5’s Test Match Special (TMS) during the lunch break on day 3 of the deciding Oval Test? And was it not her who had to ask what the ‘Extras’ are that are added to the innings total? Oh Gawd! There has been a lot of adverse comment about the choice of interviewee on that day as the usual suspects are either veteran international cricketers or well known celebs who actually know something about cricket (and have a book to plug). But no, Lily declared her undying love for the game even though she was a bit wobbly on the rules.

However, she did strike a cruel blow against the administrators by saying that the new Twenty20 short form of the game was rubbish and that she only follows proper grown-up Test Matches. Hurrah! In fact she had a few ideas of her own. My favourite being that the Test series should be extended to 7 or even 9 games, to be known as the ‘All Out War’ series. Great Stuff! She clearly has a better grip on the game than some of those in charge.

Given her lack of a comprehensive knowledge of the laws of the game, I would’ve loved to have asked her whether she adhered to the ‘six and out’ rule having heaved the ball into a neighbour’s garden when playing at home with the family (I bet Keith bowls a mean leg cutter). And did she have any penalties in place for breaking windows? I only ask because I never actually broke any glass with a cricket ball myself – but my Dad once put a thick outside edge through the kitchen window (failed to spot the away-swinger) much to the consternation of my mother who was washing her hair in the kitchen sink at the time.

The standard of banter is always first rate on TMS and Lily’s contribution was a lot of fun. Even the real broadcasters have their moments of sheer surrealism. Like this:
Phil Tufnell (ex-England spin bowler and lad-about-town): ‘How did you prepare to bat, Matthew?’
Matthew Hayden (ex-Aussie opening batsman of some repute): 'I’d have a routine… (goes on for about 5 minutes about eye exercises and mental attitude etc etc)'
Tufnell: 'So having a snooze was completely the wrong approach then?'

I’m not sure Lily was so out of place after all.

Garage Rock

The end of the 1960s signalled many things, the end of The Beatles, the first falterings of the hippy dream and the beginning of an extended period of the most tasteless period in fashion ever, but for me it signifies moving house for the first time. In the winter of 1970/71 our family moved out of the house I grew up in and moved to a newer, chalet style semi not half a mile away. The reason for all this inconvenience was that the new house had a sheltered, sunny south facing aspect which was infinitely superior to the dark, windy north-east facing old one and for my mother, in her last 6 months of a losing a battle with cancer, a warmer sunnier last few months on this earth.

The house also boasted an integral garage which was eventually converted to a bedroom for me thus saving me from having to share with my brother. I’m sure he felt the same. A new stand alone pre-fab garage was built on land to the side of the house to compensate for the loss of facility. The new garage was fundamentally a long thin tube of grey granite blocks with a flat roof and an up-and-over door. Usually, it housed our car and a load of junk but during the school holidays it was devoid of the car during the day and it was then that it served as a base for garage cricket (2 players only – pat pending).

My younger brother and I had devised the rules for our 2-hand garage cricket a year or so before at our previous house, but this newer, longer garage was perfect for its execution. Basically a batsman’s wicket was set up inside at the closed end and the bowler bowled into the garage from the driveway. The batsman could be out by being bowled or caught or LBW if we could ever agree, in the normal way. Scoring was achieved by hitting the ball against certain items along the interior walls of the garage such as the lawn mower (2 runs), the garden spade (3 runs) and a pair of wellingtons (4 runs). To hit the ball back past the bowler into the road counted as a six.

Luckily, the new garage had a power line run from the house terminating in a single socket on the wall. Into this could be plugged my portable record player thus we could also have music whilst we played. Thus my abiding memory of these games is linked with Argent’s ‘In Deep’, their forth and in my opinion best LP and I can remember rockin’ along to ‘God Gave Rock ‘n’ Roll To You’ and ‘It’s Only Money (parts 1 & 2)’ whilst racking up yet another unbeaten half century score with a spectacular on-drive against the lawn mower.

Who said sport and rock don’t mix?

Olympian Effort

What’s all this then? Team GB winning a shed load of medals at the Olympic Games and finishing fourth in the medal table? Whatever next? What happened to the usual noble-in-defeat attitude and ‘I’m just pleased to be here’ platitudes? What has turned us into a nation of contenders? It could be the lottery money pumped into sports so that athletes can pay the bills whilst learning their trade or it could be the hiring of proper coaching and technical staff or it could even be the public school ethos of competition in sport (heaven forbid!) But I think it is more than that.

I reckon that the real reason for all this success is down to the weather! I’ve touched on this before in my previous Cricket post, but climate is so important to the Brits, after all, 50% of conversation in this country revolves around it. Without a bit of weather to contend with, we are nothing - look at the evidence. For once, a major sporting event has been held in a country where the climate suits the average Brit. We have won countless medals for sailing in atrocious conditions with howling winds and 2 metre swells – just like the Solent on an August Bank Holiday. The road cycling was conducted in stair-rodding rain, lethally slippery roads and less that brilliant visibility - ditto. Mercifully, the temperatures have been on the chilly side, the rain has fallen with not a swelteringly hot clear blue sky and lack-of-oxygen-due-to-altitude day in sight. Just how we like it.

I have always thought that the UK’s lack of sporting prowess has always been due to a lack of proper weather. Major sporting events are always held in countries where it is consistently hot, humid and windless. Where’s the fun in that? Where’s the challenge? Brits need to battle the elements more that they need to battle their opponents. It is why we are at heart an exploring, sea-faring nation.

Most of the UK’s premier sport, football, is played in freezing, rain-drenched conditions that are prevalent in our winter. If the Football World Cup was played at Scunthorpe on a miserably wet, muddy November day rather than a humid latin summer’s day when it’s 35C in the shade, we would win hands-down. I’d love to see the Brazilians play their silky skills game in those conditions.

So, an end to all boring hot, dry venues please. All international sporting events should now be held in countries where the weather is extreme and unpredictable. That would even up the chances a bit!

As a postscript, I note that some things never change. Post-event interviews with competitors from most of the major nations comprise a tediously well-rehearsed, almost robotic stream of PR speak. Brits on the other hand, waffle on about all sorts of things in a daze of ‘Gosh, have I really won something’ giddiness. Somehow, it is wonderfully reassuring that there’s a real person in there somewhere rather that a trained-to-the-point-of-oblivion android. You can’t have it both ways.

When an Old Cricketer Leaves the Crease...

Summer has finally deigned to show its face here in the UK and the cricket season is in full swing. Ahh cricket! Another of those games that we gave the world and then they turn up on our doorstep and beat the pants off us (see also – European Football Championships). Except New Zealand.

I’ve always been a bit of a cricket devotee, I was coached for a year or so at school and subsequently played for the school team as a middle order batsman and occasional wicket-keeper. My career ended at about age 16 when sport became terribly uncool but I then reverted to watching it on TV – before it was gobbled up by Satellite Channels. I remember with real fondness all those black and white Test Matches from the 1960s which featured names such as Dexter, Graveney, Boycott, Edrich, D’Olivera, Snow and Underwood. It was a period when England would get regularly battered by the West Indies in the form of fast bowlers Hall & Griffith and then hit all round the ground by Sobers, Greenwich and the rest of them. Happy days!

Cricket is a unique sport for many reasons and each of those reasons shows why it could only have been invented by the English.

It is the only sport that is played over 5 days. This means that a potential spectator is not limited to attendance at a certain time on a certain day and has a choice of dates. It also means that someone seeing play on say, day 3 will not see the beginning nor the end of the game. This is in compliance with the English attribute that says that ‘taking part is more important than winning’. Which is why we never win anything.

It is the only sport that revolves around meals, especially Tea. This is absolutely paramount. No English sportsman likes to go without his grub and to stop for Tea at 4.00 pm is entirely civilised. Pity nobody else takes our lead on this. All sports should stop for Tea at four!

It is the only sport that incorporates the weather into strategy and tactics. We all know that the English are obsessed with the weather, so why not make it part of the sport? It’s entirely logical that play should stop when it rains or when the light is so bad no one can see the ball, but is also logical that varying degrees of cloud cover, early morning moisture, pitch condition, wind direction and all sorts of other atmospheric factors should form part of the captain’s thought processes when directing his troops. It also means that when we play in the West Indies, Australia and India when it is just hot all the time we invariably lose.

It is the only sport where a draw is declared due to insufficient duration of playing time. I know that the concept of a draw is alien for you Yanks but just take a deep breath and think how satisfying a non-result can be when both sides have given their all. It is the classic English compromise and can be followed by a nice cup of tea!