My Favourite Cricketer: Stuart MacGill, by Kristian Gough of The Wrong 'Un

Snoop Doggy Nott my favourite...

As both a legspin fetishist and amateur practitioner, I would more likely pick Snoop Doggy Dogg as my favourite cricketer than a batsman or seamer and to me MacGill represents the leggie's leggie and my personal favorite.  

Warne was too freakishly accurate to be considered a 'real' leg spinner, real ones dish up at least one four-ball every few overs.  And he didn't even have a googly to speak of, relying instead on straight balls to surprise Ian Bell. Anil Kumble …don't get me started on him, he barely even spun it. 

No, MacGill is the leggie for me because he had all the traits of the club leg spinner - huge booze collection, poor fielder, genuine number 11 and ability to bowl one long hop every eight balls. He was a club pie-chucker given super powers after drinking a radioactive vintage bottle of Barossa Valley Shiraz. I swear there is a video of him on YouTube spinning a ball from square leg to point while glowing luminous green. 

He bowled the old fashioned leg spin style I love: tossing the ball up, moving the batsman across the crease toward the on side opening him up - then bang!  A googly, or if he thought it was expected, a big side-spun legbreak which often got slapped to cover point. Effective or not, this attacking style gives captains or selectors palpitations.

I like him as much for his unconformity and outsider status as his brilliant wrong ’un and massive-turning leg break. He never really fit the mold of an Aussie cricketer. A brooding, intense figure, he once fell out with the entire county of Devon while playing English minor counties cricket because they dared play for 'fun'. He was banned several times for discipline, read 24 novels on a tour of Pakistan barely speaking to team mates and famously has 3000 bottles wine in his cellar.  

It is of course impossible to even consider MacGill without the shadow of Warne, toasted cheese sandwich in hand, looming over him.  But try if you can. 

Close your eyes and imagine a world where Shane Keith Warne (MacGill's middle names are Charles Glyndwr) hadn't been born. A cricketing “It's a Wonderful Life” where Mike Gatting was remembered as a decent player of spin and Daryl Cullinan as the tenth best South African batsman to play Tests. In this fantasy world, Stuart MacGill takes 650 wickets and is remembered alongside Benauld, Grimmett and O'Reilly as one of Australia's greatest leggies.  

No really, he would have been. MacGill has a Test strike rate of 54, astonishing for a slow bowler and in fact the best in modern cricket. The myth that he was inaccurate and expensive are of course overstated - a Test economy rate of 3.2 is hardly cannon fodder.

Image courtesy: cricket.com.au

Even in his latest incarnation as a fortysomething Twenty20 gun-for-hire, he has reminded us of that skill. Even turning up rusty, in a batsman-friendly format bowling against teams containing slogger extraordinaires he has held his own, bamboozling the young ‘uns with his wrong ‘uns and going at 6 and half an over.

So all raise a glass of something complex to Stuart MacGill, an old fashioned leg spinner who refused to fit in.  While limited opportunities meant he never became what he could have been, he still notched up performances and a record that most of Aussie spinners can’t hope to match.

Here’s one of his finest.

 Kristian runs the excellent blog "The Wrong 'Un" and tweets at @iamthewrongun. We highly recommend you take a look at both.

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My Favourite Cricketer: David Boon, by Jimi Stephens

In our continuing series "My Favourite Cricketer", World Cricket Watch's Jimi Stephens takes on the legend that is ... Boonie.

Allan Border has been taken. S.K Warne and Rahul Dravid are gone too. I thought about the Waugh brothers, and even the charismatic Carl Hooper was an early contender. But, delving back into my most formative of cricketing experiences, I found a short, roundish bloke with a killer moustache and looked no further. Here’s why……

Boxing Day Test, 1994. I was 11 years old and sitting with my older cousin and my grandma in the members reserve at the MCG. All morning I’d been swinging around in my seat, to see if the window to the Australian dressing room might open enough for me to catch a glance of Mark Waugh or Flemmo or anyone. But, nothing.

http://www.cricinfo.com/db/PICTURES/CMS/66600/66679.jpg

That year we were sitting as close as you could to the dressing room, just in the row beyond the chained off area where I think close friends, family and partners got first dibs. We’d won the first test in Brisbane and this was day 3 of the match. Our seats on the opening day were no-where-near this close so my autograph book was halfway out of its holster. Clink. The door opened to reveal Boony in all his glory: singlet on, massive gold chains vying for priority over his impressive tufts of chest hair, legs resting up on the window ledge, pads on and, in his right hand, something I was not expecting; a ciggie. David Boon, my idol, was smashing a dart! In fact, in the time I watched him, he must have smashed about 5! I couldn’t take my eyes off this spectacle. I think Tubby Taylor hit a four which my Grandma applauded but I couldn’t stop watching as Boony sucked in hard on dart after dart, blowing the smoke out into the member’s reserve. Then it happened. He saw me watching. I waved. He did not wave back. Instead he took an extra long drag on his fag, and blew a smoke ring in my direction.

In retrospect, I found Boon’s smoking endearing – ala Bob Simpson talking about his addiction on an Australian current affairs program, Today Tonight. However, my idolisation of the plucky Tasmainan started well before that. I just loved the way he could hold a pose, bat raised as high as he could, having just whipped one backward of square. Other players instintcs had them setting off soon after making contact with the ball but Boon was content to ‘save his legs’ and trust his power and placement. Whilst I was never that strong on my legs, I did buy a Gray Nicholls Ultimate 750 Limited Edition and after very careful photo analysis, positioned sports tape at the neck of the bat exactly as David Boon had it. In later years, I did buy into the folklore of Boon too, the 52 beers on the flight to England being the obvious example here. For those interested, Dean Jones’ account of this Australian Folk Tale is worth tracking down. However I do not advise trying to replicate this effort. Sinking a shitload off piss is a skill I have, but I am barely even able to get significant bum fluff on my face at 27 years of age and I reckon you need a handlebar to even attempt that!

 ain’t gonna list his stats here, not becuase I’m lazy but, well, you’re on the net right now so look ‘em yourslef. Suffice to say though that for his time, Boon’s test average was very bloody good, second only to Alan Border when Boon called it a day. His one day record is impressive also, maybe most notable for his best afield efforts in the 1987 World Cup final against the Poms at Eden Gardens and in the dead rubber against the Windies at the MCG in the 1992 World Cup. He wasn’t a technically brilliant player and he wasn’t elegant either. He was however, a belligerent upper order batsmen who was called upon ad nauseum to steer Australia through batting collapses and take the shine off the new pill. I can actually remember (at three years old!) first hearing about him from my Grandmother who had listened to the tied test in Chennai in 1986 and was talking to me about Dean Jones’ outrageous effort that saw him hospitalised after spending a total of five hindred and two miuntes at the crease. I had only one question for Gran “Who was up the other end?”

Getting back to Boxing Day in ’94 though: Boon had a spectacular match. He made 134 in the second innings which was a very nice knock to watch and he moved like Dhal Sim from Street Fighter to catch a ball at short leg to give Shane Warne his hat-trick. 

But I remember Boon from this match because he blew a smoke ring at me.  Probably not the best thing to do to an 11 year old kid but hey, it’s not like I copied everything he did……now where’s my lighter?

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A short history of Australian cricket in Sri Lanka: a tale of two spinners

by Balanced Sports columnist Ben Roberts

For Part One, click here.

The Australian side did not return until 1992 for test match cricket. This time the series consisted of three matches between the sides. Much has been written about the first test, where Shane Warne began to break out and become a match winning player, however the series also featured Muttiah Muralidaran in two of his earlier tests. Although Warne cleaned up the tail in the first test against the Sri Lankans these three wickets were the only ones that he took for the series and was dropped for the third and final test.

Although Sri Lanka were still considered one of the weaker teams in world cricket they pushed the Australians throughout the whole series and it was only rain that saved the visitors from an embarrassing loss in the final test. The only test that went to a result was the first, and Australia was very much on the ropes after having been dismissed for 256 in their first innings. Sri Lanka replied with a declaration eight wickets down for 547, three players Ranatunga the captain now, Asoka Gurusinha, and Romesh Kaluwitharana making centuries. Australia fared better in the second innings with 471 but only left the hosts only 181 for victory.

Warne does get the credit for his three wickets to clean up the Sri Lankan tail and ensure Australian victory (by 16 runs), however Wisden cites victory more being granted by Sri Lanka lapsing into 'old destructive ways'. The hosts went on later in the season to win the limited overs series and began forming the spine of what would become the world cup winning side in 1996. Sri Lanka displayed through the mid 1990s that they were no longer the new kid on the block but a side capable of playing forceful cricket.

Post the heady days of the 1996 World Cup where the Sri Lankan side was the toast of the cricketing world, they had bombed out of the 1999 tournament. Old was replaced with new as they prepared to host the Australian team that had easily become the strongest in world cricket. Despite there being a clear favouritism for the visitors they were shocked as the Sri Lankans won the first test by 6 wickets, a win that ultimately won the series for the hosts.

The Australians were bowled out for 188 in their first innings, future captain Ricky Ponting scoring more than half that total with 96. Although the hosts fared little better with 234 in their first innings they were able to bowl Australia out for 140 in the second innings and with relative ease chase down the 95 needed for victory. Although it was comprehensive by Sri Lanka they were assisted by the absence of Steve Waugh and Jason Gillespie in the second innings after they had collided sickeningly during Sri Lanka's first innings.

The final two tests were completely ruined by rain before the matches had any chance of being decided. Despite this, as in the first test, the Australian players performances remained incredibly below par. Mark Waugh had infamously made four successive ducks on the previous tour in 1992, and he fared little better this time around averaging only 15. Only Ponting made a century in the tests with 105 during Australia's only innings in the drawn third test. Muralidaran was the pick of the bowlers from both sides with 15 wickets, a haul limited by rain as he had the Australians in knots a majority of the time.

In a complete turnaround from the previous visit to Sri Lanka the Australians clean sweeped the next three test series, this despite calls that the once great Australian's were on the wane. The first test ended in a comprehensive victory (by 197 runs) to Australia, however the final result betrays Australia being 161 runs in arrears after the first innings! It was the second innings by Australia of 512 for 8 declared with three centurions coupled with Shane Warne (opening the bowling) and Stuart MacGill rolling through the hosts batting lineup for 154, the bowlers taking 5 and 4 wickets each. It was a spinners game as Muralidaran took 11 wickets also.

courtesy: ganeshaspeaks.com

The second test went down to a closer result, though the flow of the match was similar to the first. Australia got cleaned up for 120 in the first innings and again trailed (by 91 runs) once Sri Lanka had batted. Again Australia posted a large second innings total that set Sri Lanka 352 for victory. The Sri Lankans went close, eventually being bowled out 27 runs short. Although a dead rubber the final test would most likely be a contest as despite their losses Sri Lanka had dominated the first two tests for extended periods.

This final test did not go according to the script of the first two as Australia finally put in a solid first innings batting performance with 401. They still trailed on the first innings however (albeit by only 6 runs) that may be an interesting statistical question as to how often has a team won all tests in a series yet trailed each match on the first innings? Australia again batted well in the second innings with Justin Langer scoring 166 to leave Sri Lanka 370 to win with just over a day remaining. Sri Lanka fell 121 runs short to give Australia a 3-0 result.

This series in early 2004 must go down as one of the greatest played in the modern era despite the scoreline suggesting otherwise. Spectators were treated to the two greatest spin bowlers of all time going head to head and producing amazing results. Murali led both side's bowlers with a phenomenal 28 wickets in the three tests, and Warne was only slightly behind him on 26. The two greats took 54 wickets between them in the series; all 16 other bowlers used only captured 62!

So in late August and early September this year another chapter will be written in a great rivalry between sides not necessarily renowned as opponents of each other. Although test cricket between the two nations is only a product of the most recent 30 years the nations have an almost 130 year history in contesting cricket. The two sides this time are trotting out the line that they are re-building, but both seem to still be in no man's land between promoting young talent and exiting the old. Neither side has a player who immediately stands out as being likely to dominate this coming series. It should prove therefore to be a good contest and with attacking captaincy hopefully some great results to write into history.

My Favourite Cricketer: Shane Warne by Murray Middleton

My Favourite Cricketer is a series of special features run simultaneously on World Cricket Watch and Balanced Sports where we invite the world's best cricket writers and bloggers to tell us why one player has become their favourite.  Today, it's another inevitability: an Australian writes on Shane Warne.  This week's contribution is from Murray Middleton of World Cricket Watch.

My favourite cricketer is the man whose face Stuart MacGill sees at the bottom of every bottle of Bordeaux wine; a man whose face is becoming increasingly distorted; a man who has committed more infidelities than Tiger Woods and Arnold Schwarzenegger combined; a man who plays a better balcony scene than a Montague and a Capulet; a man who never says ‘no’ to his mother; a man with a penchant for pizza, chips and toasted cheese sandwiches; a man who can always be counted on to deliver accurate information about pitches and weather conditions; a man who recently admitted, ‘I’d be sitting in a strait jacket in a padded cell if I started regretting everything that happened in my life.’

In the sixth season of Sopranos there is a pivotal scene when Tony’s wife, Carmela, confronts his psychiatrist, Dr. Melfi. Carmela reveals that she has always been aware of Tony’s means of subsistence. She forlornly admits, ‘I don’t know if I loved him in spite of it or because of it.’ I feel the same way about Shane Warne. I love him. I know this much. Yet I often find myself questioning the motives of my love. Is it because he is the greatest sportsman I have ever seen? Or is it because he is such a majestically-flawed human being?

I remember when Warne was selected to make his international debut in the third test against India in 1992. I wondered why the selectors had opted for a corpulent 22-year-old who looked as though he was better suited to breeding greyhounds. Yet I was also intrigued. In the preceding six months my father had spoken regularly about an up-and-coming leg-spinner who possessed a weapon which I had never heard of: a flipper. I was desperate to see this phenomenon in action. The only problem was that we didn’t have a television.

During the SCG test I was staying at my uncle’s macadamia-nut farm near Bangalow in northern New South Wales. Our family was sleeping in a caravan. We set up a makeshift cricket pitch in a corrugated iron shed and listened to the entire test on the radio. My cousin batted for hours on end while Ravi Shastri led the assault on the young Australian spinner. My cousin plundered my leg-spinners to all acres of the farm. It was ruthless. I felt as though Warne and I were in it together. He eventually dismissed Shastri for 206 to claim figures of 1/150 off 45 overs.

The first time I saw Warne in the flesh was at the MCG against the West Indies the next summer. He had been brought into the side after Australia failed to dismiss the Windies in the final innings of the first test. I was sitting in the Southern Stand with my father. When Warne was introduced into the attack, his statistics were displayed on the electronic scoreboard. His bowling average was in the 60’s. A derisive murmur spread around the ground. ‘I feel sorry for the poor kid,’ said my father. Warne didn’t need his sympathy for long.

In the second innings he collected 7/52 and bowled Australia to victory. He produced his first legendary flipper to remove Richie Richardson. The ball pitched on a good length, confusing Richardson as to whether to play forward or back. He ended up doing neither. The ball zipped off the turf and cannoned into Richardson’s off stump, halfway up. Richardson was stranded on the crease, unbalanced, and evidently perplexed. It is very rare that a champion sportsman is made to look like a fool. Usually when it occurs, it is at the hands of a champion-in-the-making.

In 1993 I went to a Shield match at the MCG to watch Warne play a rare game for Victoria. Five minutes before the lunch break I ran to the fence which adjoined the player’s race in a bid to secure his autograph. As the Victorian players walked towards the race I leant over the fence with a notepad in hand and asked Warne for an autograph. A great smirk flashed across his face. ‘I’ve already signed that one mate,’ he said, before placing his hand upon Matthew Elliott’s shoulder. Later that year, when he dismissed Mike Gatting with the ball of the century, I decided to forgive him.

Although the Gatting ball was an absolute peach, it isn’t my favourite Warne delivery. In 1996 at the SCG Warne was locked in an absorbing battle with the unorthodox Shivnarine Chanderpaul. He decided to bowl around the wicket to the left hander. Just prior to lunch he sent a wonderfully-flighted leg-break towards the footmarks outside Chanderpaul’s off stump. The West Indian star leant back to cut the ball. It pitched among the footmarks and turned prodigiously. The ball crashed into Chanderpaul’s pad before he had time to jam his bat down. It then ricocheted onto his middle stump.

My favourite Warne spell occurred in the World Cup semi-final in 1999. Australia posted a seemingly paltry 213. When Warne was introduced into the attack South Africa was cruising at 0-48. Within six overs they were 4-62. Warne dismissed Kirsten, Gibbs, Cronje and Kallis to finish with figures of 4-29 from 10 overs. The ball that removed Gibbs was almost a replica of the Gatting delivery. The ball that dismissed Cronje pitched on off stump and fizzed into the hands of Mark Waugh at first slip. Admittedly Cronje didn’t hit the ball (it glanced his shoe), but anyone who can turn a ball with such velocity deserves the devil’s wicket.

My favourite Warne series came in the Ashes in 2005. While the rest of his teammates floundered, Warne, whose personal life was in utter disarray, dug in for the fight of his life. He took an incredible 40 wickets in five tests at an average of 19.92. He also scored 249 runs, which was more than several of Australia’s top order batsmen. Warne’s protracted battle with his good friend Kevin Pietersen was a delight to watch. It cost me a semester at university. Warne played like a man possessed. It was Warne versus England. And he almost got them.

Warne played his final test series against England in the summer of 2006/07. He had a burning desire to regain the Ashes for his country. Like all true champions, he had one last trick up his sleeve. On the final morning of the Adelaide test, with the match seemingly trickling towards a banal draw, he bowled Kevin Pietersen around his legs. The ball changed the complexion of the match and the series. Australia went on to secure an unlikely victory in Adelaide and later won the series 5-0. It was a fitting end for one of the greats of the game.

Warne retired with every trophy in the ACB cabinet. It is rare that a sportsman possesses the foresight to retire at the perfect moment. It is also admirable to do so in a game where the temptation is for players to squeeze every last ounce (and dime) out of their ability, as Simon Katich had every intention of doing. Warne was never going to starve without international cricket, and he knew it. Anyone who has watched Muhammad Ali’s bout against Larry Holmes at Caesar’s Palace will understand the futility of ignoring the light.

Warne’s detractors seem to judge him on a humane level, not as a sportsman. It is difficult to defend Warne as a human. I don’t care whether he is a nice person, or a smart person. He is the smartest cricketer I have ever seen. He was a ferocious competitor. He wanted the moment. He wasn’t afraid of it. He had an innate belief that he was entitled to it. He possessed the perfect blend of raw ability, tactical nous and an insatiable appetite for the mental contest. Daryll Cullinan can attest to this. Warne got inside his blood. He transformed a quality batsman into a bunny rabbit. Since retiring, Cullinan has admitted, ‘Quite simply, Warne was too good for me.’

There have been countless other superb Warne deliveries over the years – Gooch, Kallis, Stewart, Anwar; enough to write a post-graduate thesis on. He is a marvel. Warne captured 708 test wickets at an average of 25.41 and 293 one day wickets at an average of 25.73. In 2000 he was selected as one of only five Wisden Cricketers of the Century. Not a bad effort for a common man with a pot belly. Perhaps he does look a little unsightly these days, but I forgive him. I’m glad he refused to give me his autograph 18 years ago. Who am I kidding? I love Shane Warne because of what he is.

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A contest within a contest

By Ben Roberts

Recently, during the Melbourne winter, I have taken to following the Major League Baseball from the USA. The sport has three big plus sides for my following it. The first two are that the sheer volume of games played mean that you are guaranteed to be able to follow the scores in a game every day, and the severe time difference between the USA and Melbourne make it perfect for having the tick over in the background while I am going about my day's work.

The third reason however is the simplicity in which one can follow the game without needing to invest in actually watching the games or listening to the calls. So heavy is the statistical analysis of every facet of baseball that one can obtain a clear picture of the state of the game from looking at what is provided on any number of websites that provide live scores.

A particular statistic, or group of statistics, from baseball grabbed my attention and led me to wonder about the possibility and worthiness of applying a similar analysis to cricket. Every time a batter steps up in baseball the follower is provided with a host of statistics on how well they have fared previously when facing the particular pitcher from the opposition. Now we often as followers of cricket feel that certain bowlers have the 'wood' over a batsman, or even vice versa, but I wondered whether we could actually find solid statistics that identified who was in fact the bowler who caused any particular batsman the most trouble.

Courtesy: niharsworld.com

Taking the undoubted greatest modern era batsman Sachin Tendulkar as my target I set about trying to identify what bowler he has his best and worst records against. Running the statistics I found that of all bowlers Muttiah Muralidaran has captured the wicket of Tendulkar on the most occasions. However of course Murali has faced Tendulkar the most times of any bowler. As well Murali was by far the best bowler for the Sri Lankan team, no risk therefore that others would usurp him for the wicket. The more I examined the list the more I realised how many more abnormalities exist with looking at a direct statistical analysis between a batsman and bowler, in particular the following led me to widen my analysis.

In baseball the vast majority of innings that a batter has he will only face one pitcher at a time, therefore despite there being other influences (state of the game for example) it truly is a one on one contest between bat and ball. Increasingly bowlers have stopped being seen as individual performers and started identifying themselves as partners or teams. Such identification now simply names a phenomenon that has occurred in cricket for many years. That against the better bowlers a batsman may survive, but the release of pressure in facing a bowler at the end or even the pressure to score when not facing as higher quality bowler can realise a wicket.

Therefore rather than view a head to head contest I sought to understand whether there was something about the influence a bowler could have over the performance of a batsman. In this analysis it is potentially open that a bowler may not in fact capture the wicket of the batsman at all. Again using Tendulkar as the subject the following statistics show the influence the three best bowlers of his era had on his statistics; the three bowlers being Murali, Shane Warne and Glenn McGrath:

	Matches	Batting Average	Strike Rate
Career	177	56.94	54.08
McGrath	9	36.77	55.02
Difference		-20.17	0.94
Warne	12	60.45	64.65
Difference		3.51	10.57
Muralidaran	19	48.64	51.28
Difference		-8.3	-2.8

The above statistics come from querying what Tendulkar's record was against a team containing each of the above bowlers. Immediately it becomes clear that McGrath's presence caused Tendulkar the most difficulty as his average drops 20 runs from his overall career while his strike rate only rises slightly. Despite being the bowler to have taken the little master's wicket the most, Murali hasn't affected Tendulkar's statistics dramatically. Both average and strike rate fall slightly from career, however the resulting figures are still strong. Finally Warne, and it may surprise to see that his presence in the opposition has only strengthened the resulting statistics.

Being a bit cheeky with the statistics I decided to remove the first test match played between Warne and Tendulkar. History shows this test, Warne's first ever, as being the scene of Ravi Shastri and the very youthful Tendulkar dominating Australia's bowlers and Warne being blasted for figures of 1/150. Warne was nowhere near the dominant bowler he was to come, so what was his affect post this match? Tendulkar's average drops to near his career mark, but his strike rate remains well in excess of his career rate.

What is the learning? Well firstly statistics can mask the true value of a player. For a bowler, he may not be taking many wickets yet his influence can extend beyond this standard statistic of choice. Secondly cricket remains very much a team game. McGrath dismissed Tendulkar 6 times in 9 tests. This is less than once per test. In all tests against McGrath he batted twice therefore only a third of the time was dismissed by him. Still his output with the bat was so severely reduced when playing against the Australian quick. This is a moral lesson too that must be learned in all walks of life, it is not about individual's achieving but being part of a greater whole. McGrath's career, although stellar in its own right, was one of a player always focussed on team success. Challenges are always better faced as a team.