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A dying format? The County Championship is at another crossroads
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Baxter's Road leads out of Bridgetown past Kensington Oval. Buses throatily
engage second gear; an old man sitting on the wooden veranda of his shack
nods appreciatively at the sea breeze; a young man walking along the
pavement offers "weed" for sale, unthreateningly. In Barbados the weave of
traditional society has not unravelled.
During the last World Cup a sports bar on Baxter's Road contained about
a dozen customers and three televisions. One was showing the game between
West Indies and Bangladesh a few hundred yards away at the renovated,
half-empty Oval. But none of the customers was watching the cricket. None
was watching the second television either: a recorded football match between
Liverpool and PSV Eindhoven. Or the American football game on the third
screen. All male, and young to middle-aged, the customers sat at tables and
talked or chatted up the waitresses.
Then a wicket fell and the bar burst into life, even animation. Everybody
turned as if on a string and watched the replays, switching on to the cricket.
West Indies were going to defeat Bangladesh in the Super Eights, if no one
else. Cricket, after all, was their game. Liverpool scored, and a hulking
quarterback threw an oval ball, without gaining their attention. Conversation
gradually slowed; the tropical afternoon took over. The bar filled with
languor, and the waftings of an okra stew brought by a waitress for a late
luncher, and the sounds of the street and buses bound for Speightstown.
Shorter, shorter everywhere
Twenty-over cricket in India is shifting the tectonic plates of the professional
game as never before. In the late 1970s Kerry Packer's World Series Cricket,
while reshaping the international scene, left the domestic game untouched.
Until now, the best cricketers have earned most of their money by representing
their country, whether in an official eleven or a rebel team in World Series
or apartheid South Africa. This period in the game's history, of primarily
representing countries, seems to be ending, suddenly.
Leading cricketers can now earn more by representing an Indian city,
whether in Zee TV's Indian Cricket League or the officially sanctioned Indian
Premier League. City-based cricket has arrived and will surely spread,
annulling the player's traditional relationship with his county, state or
province. The day has lurched closer when England's best cricketers, in
addition to representing England, will play for an English region in a first-class
tournament at the start of each season; for an English city in the 20-over competition in mid-summer; and for an Indian city. County cricket will
then become a relic at amateur level, like the county championship of English
rugby.
Cricket administrators in Test-playing countries around the world should
be prepared to ride this Indian tiger, to keep the 20-over game in proportion and not let it swamp all other forms. I am not convinced they are ready, because the standard of administrators is not high enough. For a start, they
took ages to understand what baseball discovered in the United States several
generations ago: that the majority of people want to watch their sport in a
package of about three hours. Twenty20 cricket is making up for a lot of
lost time.
The ninth World Cup should have been last year's highlight. But it was
made joyless and long-winded to the point of tedium, sanitised and stripped
of any local flavour or carnival atmosphere by the imposition of western
corporate culture. West Indians were alienated by ticket prices - in effect
"tourists only need apply" - long before the tournament began. (I felt alienated
when I stood in a stand without a single spectator, and a security man ordered
me to sit down.) The organisers had said an aim of the World Cup was to
revive cricket in the West Indies, and manifestly it did not. Then, after a
build-up all too long, the World Cup final was all too brief, and rendered
farcical by the incompetence of various umpires and the referee. The
consequence was that the inaugural ICC World Twenty20 in South Africa
later in the year caught the public imagination, precisely because the 50-over
World Cup had not. The game in its longer versions laid itself open to a
takeover by the shortest format.
I am not against Twenty20 cricket. Some matches in South Africa, notably
the semi-final between Australia and India, had most of the ingredients that
any cricket match with a time limit could offer. (Australia had no spin bowler
worthy of the name, and they lost because of it.) The ICC has stacked its
tournaments with one-sided matches; the IPL has realised that drama depends
on competitive games and has shared out the stars. But, in the course of
time, what 20-over cricket lacks - if only a change of tempo - will become
ever more apparent, by comparison with Test cricket.
Hail Fellows, well hit
The tournament also spawned a game within a game: to see which batsman
could hit the ball furthest. It was amusing that the biggest hitter, Yuvraj Singh,
could manage only 119 metres. Why are today's batsmen so puny? In 1856,
at the Christ Church ground in Oxford, off the bowling of a man called
Rogers, Walter Fellows drove a ball 175 yards, or 160 metres, "from hit to
pitch", which Wisden has listed for years as the world record (see page 464).
In our obituary of Fellows (Wisden 1903), we reported that the "length of the
drive [was] carefully measured by E. Martin, the ground-keeper". One may
question the measurement of the hit, or wonder if it was wind-assisted, but
amateur batsmen of that period like Fellows - described as "a hard slashing
hitter, and a tremendous fast round-armed bowler" - played more sports
involving wrist-work than today's players. Or maybe it is the modern bat that
is puny because the wrong wood is being used. Many bats were made out of
red willow until the 1930s when, for purely cosmetic reasons, white willow
or salix alba became universally preferred.
No feeling for the game?
Cricketers in most countries do not have administrators they can respect and
trust. Take Sri Lanka, where a recent board president and chairman have
both been dragged through the courts, yet their senior players are admirable
not only as cricketers but as human beings. To my mind, Muttiah
Muralitharan deserves even more respect for his humanitarian work than for
setting a new world record of Test wickets in Kandy last December.
Cricket in most countries is run by businessmen, along with politicians
in Asia. The argument for the former (the latter are unavoidable) is that
cricket is just like any other business. Cricket, however, is a sport above all
else. Suppose the best French businessman was headhunted to run the
England and Wales Cricket Board or the International Cricket Council.
Assuming he knew nothing about cricket, his appointment would clearly be
unacceptable. A knowledge of the game, and a feeling for it, are essential.
But from my perspective, as a cricket correspondent who has toured
with England for 30 years, too few administrators know and feel. When
the television camera has picked out the hospitality box containing
administrators, never yet have I seen one of them watching the game through
binoculars. As a whole, they are interested not in how the game is played
but in how much money can be made. I am not for one moment suggesting
the game be run by former cricketers alone, because they will not have the
worldly, business skills; but there must be some mixture of the two.
Read the indictment
With the deadline approaching, it is an appropriate moment to ask whether
the ECB is living up to its mission statement target "for England teams to
come first or second in the ICC Test Championship, the ICC One Day
Championship and in the World Cup or Champions Trophy by 2009". Points
for consideration:
- Other than Bangladesh and Zimbabwe, England are the only Test-playing
country never to have won a global one-day tournament.
- Far more domestic one-day cricket has been staged in England than any
other country (over 8,000 competitive county matches since 1963).
England's failure to win a global tournament proves the domestic structure
is unfit for the national purpose.
- England have never hosted an A international. Therefore their A-team
seldom play the best A-teams abroad, and never Australia A. Therefore
English one-day cricketers find it even harder to bridge the gap between
domestic and international level.
- England have lost nine of their last ten Ashes series, winning nine Tests
to Australia's 34, the most one-sided period since the 1880s.
- When the next Ashes series starts in July 2009, England are unlikely to
peak. They will have been actively engaged in 40 of the 41 previous
months. Australia had four months off after winning the last World Cup.
- England ended 2007 in fifth place in the ICC Test rankings and seventh
in the one-day rankings.
- Two key recommendations in the Schofield Review have not been
implemented and show no sign of being: that players at England level,
and at county level, should play less.
- England's experience in the first Twenty20 tournament in South Africa
was the same as in the World Cups. They went into it with far more
domestic experience than any other country (five seasons of it) but lost
four matches, beating only Zimbabwe.
- The number of people watching live Test cricket on television has declined
from an average of 1.2 million per day in the Channel 4 era to Sky's
246,000 in 2006 and 286,000 in 2007, according to the Broadcasters'
Audience Research Board. (Various caveats have to be built in: principally,
this is their figure for in-home viewing and does not include audiences
in bars and clubs, in either case. It is also shown that Sky have a higher
percentage of young viewers.) Although the ECB's own figures show
increased participation in grassroots cricket, both male and female, and
increased funding in a five-year plan, the diminishing profile of role models
on live television can only be damaging.
- Finally, of the several England cricketers who have shown signs of
greatness (Michael Vaughan in 2002-03, Steve Harmison in 2004, Andrew
Flintoff in 2005, Kevin Pietersen then and since), none has gone on to
achieve it on a consistent basis. Something appears to be holding our best
cricketers back and dragging the England team down.
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The ICC has no money, and little power.
It was created weak by the countries which control it, much as the ECB
was created weak by the first-class counties which control it. As someone
who has known the system on the inside for a long time concludes: "Most
decisions taken at the highest level seem to be based on what is 'achievable'
or what would be acceptable to the strongest parties. This nearly always
leads to pragmatic compromises, which fail to achieve what the proposed
changes set out to achieve."
The ICC has no moral authority either; but this is something it could
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Perverse priorities
A new book compares the structure of cricket in England and Australia. It
is called Pommies: England cricket through an Australian lens, by William
Buckland, an English management consultant. His essential point is that the
ECB is killing the goose that lays the golden egg by making the England
team play almost all of the time. They have to stay on the road in order to
generate 80% of the English game's revenues. The 18 first-class counties,
put together, generate only 20%. Yet they take more than half of the England
team's profits. (The counties might argue that they produce the players who
generate most of the money; but if that is a fair principle, why do they not
share their money with league clubs who do as much to produce England
cricketers?)
"The purpose of a national sports team is to win and to please the entire
country, man, woman and child," Buckland writes, rationally. "But the
business strategy of the ECB is effectively to deny access to the England
cricket team to most fans in order to raise the price paid by richer ones.
They now cough up excessive sums for ground and television access that
the ECB then gives to county cricket to pay overseas players to play in front
of pitiful crowds at county grounds. Apart from its patent economic absurdity,
this strategy is a perversion of the ethic of a national sports team."
Buckland makes some other startling points which, in the aggregate, go
a long way towards accounting for England's decline since the Ashes victory
of 2005. He identifies the ECB's priorities as being: 1. Sustaining county cricket; 2. Achieving England success; 3. Funding grassroots; 4. Providing affordable access to the England team for fans. In Australia, however, he believes the priorities are: 1. Achieving Australian success; 2= Providing affordable access to the Australian team for fans; 2= Funding grassroots.
Given that the ECB distributes £30m a year to the first-class counties, the
board cannot be accused of failing to achieve its main priority. The question
is whether it is the appropriate one.
Another point: in how many Tests did England field Darren Gough, Andy
Caddick and Angus Fraser? The answer is never. A bowling attack which
could have rivalled any in the 1990s never played together. They were overbowled
and injured. Buckland asks whether the ECB learned from this
mistake and changed its strategy in order to pursue quality instead of quantity.
In the 24 months after winning the Ashes in 2005, England played 25 Tests,
54 one-day internationals, five Twenty20 internationals and 24 days of tour
matches, then popped off to South Africa for the World Twenty20. In 2007
alone, England played more Tests than any other country and more one-day
internationals than they ever had before. No wonder almost all of the Ashes
heroes have suffered mental burn-out or physical injury, or a combination
of both.
If anybody should think Buckland is on a personal hobbyhorse, he quotes
the views of some recent England captains, in order of seniority.
Tony Greig: "The cornerstone of Australia's success is the partnership Cricket
Australia has with free-to-air television. At the expense of a few extra bucks
for the counties, the ECB should ensure that free-to-air have live coverage
of Tests and one-day internationals."
Sir Ian Botham: "The biggest problem is that they [the ECB] think the game
is for members. It's not. It's for the whole country."
Bob Willis: "English cricket is like a sandwich. The English team is on top
and the recreational game... is at the bottom, disenfranchised. In the middle,
the soft filling, are the counties, like Northants, Leicestershire, Derbyshire,
employing 450 full-time professionals and hiring all the Kolpaks and EU
players they want."
Mike Gatting: "The ECB has a responsibility, and a duty, to keep the game
on mainstream television, otherwise children are going to grow up without
adopting Freddie Flintoff, Steve Harmison or Michael Vaughan as role models."
Mike Atherton: "County cricket in its present form fulfils no useful purpose
whatsoever. Very few people turn up to watch, it doesn't prepare people for
a higher level of cricket and it doesn't attract television deals or sponsorship."
Alec Stewart: "It'll be a big mistake if the ECB restrict terrestrial coverage."
Nasser Hussain: "The whole system is about the preservation of the status
quo, and that's why there is so much negativity in our county set-up. In
Australia everything is geared towards aiding the national team."
Michael Vaughan: "Unless we change our domestic structure the England
team will go on as it has for years. We win some games and from time to
time we nudge up a notch in the rankings but there will be no clear upward
curve, which is what we need."
Perhaps Buckland's most damning point is that watching the England team,
whether at a ground or on subscription television, is becoming an elite
pastime for the affluent, like opera. To watch the whole Test match at Lord's
against South Africa this summer will cost a member of the public at least
£300. Even a day of the New Zealand Test at Lord's will cost £60, while
the best ticket for a one-day international at The Oval has exceeded £100.
A family day out at an England cricket match is now for millionaires only.
But if the ECB were to build a ground of their own of Australian size, many
more England supporters could see their team, and at an affordable price.
Less would be more
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Graham Thorpe: 'That lack of intensity [in county cricket] is by far the biggest issue facing the English game and the root cause of our Ashes and World Cup failures'
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By year's end it was as if the 2005 triumph had never been. England, without
some of their best players through mental burn-out and physical injury, failed
to retain the Ashes in Australia and lost 5-0. After beating West Indies,
who like so many touring teams were given far too little warm-up time,
England lost their six-year unbeaten Test series run at home to India. They
were taken by surprise by India's left-armers swinging the ball conventionally
from round the wicket. It made one wonder how much county cricket has
evolved: George Hirst of Yorkshire was doing exactly the same 100 years
ago and more.
The sequel to the Ashes defeat was a masterpiece - not of administration,
but of politics. A review was announced: an independent review, of course,
and far-reaching, in the finest traditions of Yes Minister. We know cricket
does not always mirror life: the easiest place to field is mid-on, and the
worst is short leg, but not in hospital if your wife is giving birth, when it
is wiser to be behind the wicket. Yet in this case the game did mirror life.
As in the civil service, the effect was to deflect public and media wrath:
to be seen to do something without doing much at all. "The composition
of the Review Team is fully independent of the ECB Board and the Team
England Management structure," the ECB's statement said. Yet one of the
six members of Ken Schofield's panel was Hugh Morris, then deputy chief
executive of the ECB, and, following the review and some internal shuffling,
the first managing director of England cricket. Another member was
employed by the counties, and two others by BSkyB.
The Schofield Review (see page 1519) was excellent in its analysis, as far
as it went. Graham Thorpe, a player of 100 Tests, briefly an England captain,
now a coach and commentator, remarked: "It's all non-controversial common sense: hire a fielding coach, make sure contracted players get the correct
medical expertise and so on. But I'm disappointed with what it left out. Most
obviously, it seems to be lacking any input on how to prepare players for
Test cricket by making the county game more competitive and intense. That
lack of intensity is by far the biggest issue facing the English game and the
root cause of our Ashes and World Cup failures."
Schofield did address the root cause, albeit briefly, but the ECB chose
not to heed. It implemented 17 of the 19 recommendations and shelved far
and away the two most important. "The present England International and
First Class Counties' competitive programmes are congested and prevent
peak performance. It appears impossible to implement the Prepare-Play-
Recover and Analyse system favoured by the great majority of the coaches
and players interviewed as part of this Review. It consequently places
England at a disadvantage and does not allow the best way to realise the
stated ECB goals of regaining the Ashes in 2009 and winning the World
Cup in 2011." The problem of English cricket could hardly have been spelled
out more plainly: England play too much, and the counties play too much,
ever to achieve sustained excellence.
Schofield specifically recommended the abolition of the 40-over
competition. The ECB had the opportunity to do so, and to concentrate on
20-over, 50-over and first-class cricket (the three formats of the international
game) starting in 2008. The cost would have been a few hundred thousand
pounds in compensation, no more, to the sponsors of the 40-over tournament.
Duncan Fletcher, in his final press conference, stated that English cricketers
play too much; and left his job perplexed that he, a coach who specialised
in the one-day game, should have had far more success with England's Test
team. But English one-day cricket proves that if you don't learn in your
teens how to play intensely (to make one-day hundreds, use your feet to
spinners, and throw down the stumps with direct hits), you never will.
In his report Schofield set down the rationale for reducing three county
limited-overs competitions to two. Thorpe anticipated the victory of common
sense: "Players have to have as much experience of the 50-over format
as possible to have a chance of succeeding in international cricket. Simple
as that." But he had assumed that the ECB's priority was England and
excellence. It is not. Its mission statement has been revised. When Lord
MacLaurin was chairman, the target was to be No. 1. Now the aim is to be
No. 1 or 2. And we all know what happens in this competitive world if you
do not aim to be the best.
If the ECB's priority really had been to win the next World Cup, this
season (if not a previous one) would have seen an intense 50-over
competition, and no 40-over stuff. In a ballot by the Professional Cricketers'
Association, 80% of their members voted against 40-over cricket. About ten
50-over matches would seem to be the ideal number per county per season.
Two divisions of North and South would produce eight league matches:
quarter-finals, semi-finals and a final would make 11 matches for the winners.
Eighteen counties is not the ideal number, nor 16 Championship matches,
but this is where we have to start: and if the number of counties cannot be reduced, the season can be increased in length to the very end of September, as the English climate becomes milder, to allow more time for "Prepare-
Play-Recover and Analyse".
Leaner and fitter
It might have been better if the ECB had accepted the lower of the two bids
for the four-year broadcasting deal which began in 2006: the one which
would have kept some England matches on free-to-air TV but would
ostensibly have taken £20m a year out of the professional game. If the annual
distribution to the counties had been reduced from £30m to £10m, they
would not have been able to afford overseas players, except perhaps for their
Twenty20 competition. They would have been forced to rely on smaller staffs
of local players, topping up their sides with league cricketers on match fees.
Kolpak cricketers would have played where they are needed: such as Jacques
Rudolph in South Africa, Pedro Collins and Omari Banks in the West Indies,
Grant Flower and Anthony Ireland in Zimbabwe (where they are certainly
needed, if not wanted by their administrators). County cricket, although the
standard would have initially dropped, would have become leaner, younger,
healthier in the long term, and more strongly placed to withstand the
challenge of 20-over city cricket in India. And so much the better if the
counties had looked at their mostly empty grounds and sent their players
out to connect with the communities they nominally represent, to talk and
coach in clubs and state schools.
We all know from the glorious summer of 2005 that nothing makes the
sport grow in every way so much as the success of the national team. Patches
of ground which had never had cricket played on them before were used
for bat and ball by people who had never played cricket before. Many more
people watched and played than the usual white, male, middle-class
constituency. To be the best has to be the primary objective of the game's
governing body. Nothing less.
Hood's law
To paraphrase Lincoln, government by the counties for the counties must
perish from this earth. The primary roles of a board are to ensure that the
organisation has clear goals (England success, in this case), a sound strategy
to meet its goals, the resources to execute that strategy, and a system to
monitor the progress of the organisation, making adjustments as circumstances
require. When the ICC held a business forum at Lord's a few years
ago, it put up a speaker on the game's governance: Dr John Hood, vicechancellor
of Oxford University, a New Zealander who had played some
cricket for Oxford. "Even-handedness is the primary qualification for an
administrator," Hood said, "(s)he must have no vested interests." Hood drew
up a new constitution for New Zealand cricket a dozen years ago: their
board has seven members (not 12, like the ECB), and one must be a former
Test cricketer, another a woman. If his model were transposed to England and Wales, the county chairmen would not elect their own kind but vote
from a list of great and good drawn up by a nominations committee. Although
New Zealand have been seriously weakened by the loss of senior players to
20-over cricket in India, they did punch above their weight for a decade,
reaching two World Cup semi-finals and the Twenty20 semi-final, while
England did not.
The threat of violence
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One of many flashpoints on the field of play in 2007
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I fear the day is approaching when a high-profile, televised cricket match
will see an outbreak of physical violence on the field - and nothing could
be more injurious to all concerned. The amount of money coming into the
game seems unending, but growth would be halted and reversed if leading
cricketers were seen to be fighting; fewer parents would want their children
to have anything to do with such a sport. Since 1744, when the laws banned
a localised practice of pushing fielders when they tried to catch the ball,
cricket has been a non-contact sport. Preventing physical violence on the
pitch - as more and more matches are played for more and more money -
will require vision and leadership.
A flashpoint occurred in the Trent Bridge Test when Zaheer Khan was
incensed by the jelly beans which had been placed in his batting crease by
an England fielder, and he pointed his bat at Pietersen, whom he erroneously
suspected of this breach of manners. Another flashpoint came at Sydney in
the New Year, when the Second Test between Australia and India was so
filled with umpiring mistakes, player misbehaviour and hatred (most overtly
between Andrew Symonds and Harbhajan Singh) that the game stared briefly
into the abyss. For a week or two - while India threatened to call off the
tour if Harbhajan was not acquitted of racism, in a complete violation of
the judicial process, and while the world's most experienced Test umpire
Steve Bucknor was forced to stand down from the Perth Test and the authority
of umpires was eroded - "Bollyline" was as serious as Bodyline.
Last year saw an alarming increase in the amount of physical contact
between batsman and bowler. James Anderson was fined 50% of his match
fee for "inappropriate and deliberate physical contact" with Runako Morton
in the Edgbaston international. Paul Hoffmann of Scotland barged into
Canada's opening batsman Abdool Samad so forcefully that Samad needed
four minutes of treatment on the field before continuing; Hoffmann too was
fined 50%. The worst example came in the Kanpur international when
Gautam Gambhir ran straight down the pitch and straight into Shahid Afridi.
As the bowler, Afridi was allowed to stay where he was at the end of his
follow-through; it was up to the batsman to swerve and avoid him. Gambhir
looked to be the chief culprit and, even though it was his first offence, should
have been penalised more harshly than Afridi, whatever his verbal
provocations. As it was, Gambhir was fined 65%, Afridi 95%.
It is up to the ICC to police international cricket, as it appoints the umpires
and referees, pays and trains them. Ably directed by the senior referee Ranjan
Madugalle, it has taken a lot of the heat out of the game - Sydney being a reminder of how often accusations of racism used to be levelled before
neutral umpires. It has also done well to stamp out the contemptible practice,
pioneered by Australian fielders, of throwing the ball in at the striker instead
of to the wicketkeeper. Now the ICC must be no less effective in preventing
physical violence. For once this taboo is broken, it could rapidly spread, just
as sledging - sustained personal abuse - has spread from international teams
downwards.
To prevent batsman and bowler barging into each other, the likeliest casus
belli, I suggest the ICC should experiment with trial games in which the
groundsman cuts two extra strips, each one a couple of metres away from
the match pitch. The non-striker has to run up and down his strip, like the
lane of a motorway, and has the right of way there - ahead of bowler or
fielder - but nowhere else. Perhaps the striker, to have right of way, has to
run up and down the other strip. In any event, the rights of way should be
defined more clearly than they are. Also, impeding a fielder's throw by
deliberately getting in the way of the ball should be re-assessed for what it
is: obstructing the field, and therefore "out".
National boards, as well as the ICC, should have reminded their captains
of their responsibilities. Had boards possessed more feeling for the game,
they would have done more to curb sledging at every level. If by some
remote chance an administrator or player has not done so, let him or her
read Mary Russell Mitford's description of a cricket match in Our Village,
in the chapter that begins: "I doubt if there be any scene in the world more
animating or delightful than a cricket-match." Although published in 1832,
it contains an eternal verity. To organise a cricket match is a creative act.
You make a fixture; you play with the opposition as well as against them.
We live in a world of chaos, and a cricket match is one of our attempts to
impose human organisation upon nature, order upon chaos. It takes much
to create and, when angry emotions take over, it is so easy to destroy.
Constitutional paralysis
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'Again, the ICC showed how little feeling it had for the game when the
chief executive Malcolm Speed announced halfway through the World Cup
that its length was right, although nobody else on the planet seemed to think
so'
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Overlooking a vast "luxury" housing estate on land reclaimed from the Gulf,
where the Beckhams own a villa, is the tower-block where the ICC inhabits
a single floor. The staff are mainly young and enthusiastic, as Dubai is the
place where expatriates without children work hard for a few years and save
tax-free. They do good work, not only targeting racism but raising awareness
of AIDS and reducing its stigma when cricketers wear the red ribbon. Some
criticise the ICC for wasting time and money on staging matches between
Canada and Bermuda, Scotland and Namibia, etc. But the Intercontinental
Cup, a two-year programme of 29 first-class matches, is run on a budget of
$400,000 - and another Tendulkar might be unearthed.
Only in the literal sense, however, does the ICC look down on the
Beckhams. The ICC says it has no money of its own but is a financial
distribution centre: 75% of the income is currently passed on to Full
Members, 25% to Associate Members. The ICC holds reserves of more than
$20m but they are for the members in emergency, for example if ESPN-Star were to pull out of their current eight-year deal. Soccer's governing body, FIFA, has money and power. The ICC has no money, and little power.
It was created weak by the countries which control it, much as the ECB
was created weak by the first-class counties which control it. As someone
who has known the system on the inside for a long time concludes: "Most
decisions taken at the highest level seem to be based on what is 'achievable'
or what would be acceptable to the strongest parties. This nearly always
leads to pragmatic compromises, which fail to achieve what the proposed
changes set out to achieve."
The ICC has no moral authority either; but this is something it could
rectify. Since Sir Clyde Walcott stood down in 1997, no ICC leader -
president or chief executive - has played the game to first-class level, let
alone Test cricket. The new "post-colonial" ICC showed how much feeling
it had for the game when, in the last days of Jagmohan Dalmiya's presidency,
it promoted Bangladesh to Test status for what many saw as blatantly political
reasons - so India could have their vote - and set them off on the wrong
foot, where they remain. In their three Test series after the World Cup (in
one-day internationals they are becoming a spasmodic force), Bangladesh
scored 18 runs per wicket, their opponents 63. In other words, in three
innings they would have been unable to score as many runs as their opponents
in one. Never has Test cricket known such a prolonged period of disparity
as in the case of Bangladesh. Thus have administrators devalued the sport
and its history.
Again, the ICC showed how little feeling it had for the game when the
chief executive Malcolm Speed announced halfway through the World Cup
that its length was right, although nobody else on the planet seemed to think
so; and when the current president Ray Mali said Zimbabwe would be "at
the top" of the one-day rankings within three years. So when the ICC called
on players after the Sydney Test to look at their behaviour, it was just another press release. If, on the other hand, some former cricketers of repute were
involved (and not just the general manager of cricket operations, Dave
Richardson), people would listen - even, maybe, national boards.
The last World Cup brought in revenue of $239m, of which $100m went
to West Indies as hosts. Even though some of the stadiums were built for
free by foreign governments, mainly China, they managed to spend $90m
in staging the tournament. To each Full Member went $13m, a sum to be
spread over four years until the next World Cup: small for Australia, England
and India, for the rest substantial. Similarly, the last Champions Trophy in
India brought in $1.7m for each Full Member, to cover two years until the
next Trophy this autumn.
If all the money going into the game was being well spent, the cricket-playing
world would be filled with well-maintained grounds, turf and artificial
pitches in public spaces, nets in abundance, bats of all sizes and materials,
balls and bowling machines. But this money, as a bowler would say, has
clearly not gone into "the right areas".
Towards the end of last year the boards of Bangladesh, India, Pakistan
and Sri Lanka, who are staging the next World Cup, demanded their cheque for $100m - and, I understand, refused to allow anyone from the ICC to
attend their meeting which discussed how the money would be spent. The
last three countries, who staged the 1996 World Cup, have yet to submit
their accounts for it, let alone the profits as they said they would.
Sound administration is the difference between people switching on to
cricket - or off. A representative of the ICC should attend every country's
annual board meeting to find out how the money will be spent and that
country's future plans. As the game's governing body now stands, the head
does not know what the legs and arms are doing. Good governance would
introduce a chairman of the ICC - not just a consultant, who would have
no clout in Asia - and preferably with some cricket as well as business
experience to lend moral authority too. Then the ICC presidency can be
rotated among the committee men of national boards on the basis of
Buggins's or Bhagwat's turn, as an honorary role, without damage to the
sport.
Playing the leading role
More former cricketers need to administer if people are going to switch on
to cricket, and not just the 20-over game - and maybe the day will arrive
when it is not only cricket that they will administer. It is too quickly forgotten
that a Test-playing country has been at war for 25 years, since the civil war
began in Sri Lanka in 1983. Environments shape us all; and the combination
of man-made disaster (over 70,000 people have been killed, apart from all
the missing) and the tsunami of 2004 has had its effect. Sri Lanka's Test
cricketers have, collectively, a moral fibre I have not observed in any other
national sporting team.
Sir Ian Botham earned his knighthood for all the whole-hearted work he
has done in raising public awareness of, and money for, leukaemia: like Dr
Johnson, the most avowedly patriotic of Englishmen has been most un-
English in his lifestyle, all or nothing, never a shade of grey. Sri Lanka's
senior cricketers have gone even further. Muralitharan was funding the
Foundation of Goodness, to assist several villages on the south-west coast,
long before the tsunami struck. When it did, he and other senior players
drove relief lorries to all parts, including the war-torn east, their moral
authority allowing them safe passage.
As leading Sri Lankans in other walks of life have emigrated to avoid
the civil war and the all-pervasive corruption which comes with it, only their
cricketers remain as a group which represents, and is respected by, all of
the country's communities. It would be the greatest achievement yet of any
cricketers, by far, if they were able to play a part in the resolution of Sri
Lanka's civil war and the establishment of peace.
© Wisden Cricketer's Almanack
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