Vic Marks' report
That’s it for today’s blog and for a seriously uplifting summer of Test cricket. Thanks for your company and emails throughout; goodnight!
“I feel like I can still bowl in all conditions. I feel like I’m fit enough to keep playing. I realise there will be times when I’ll be left out; I’ll just try to keep my game at as high a level as possible.”
As with Stuart Broad’s 500th earlier in the summer, Sky have done another spectacular job on their congratulatory montage. Ah, apparently it was the ECB’s doing because of the Covid restrictions. “That was lovely, thank you very much, I really enjoyed that.”
Jimmy is getting emotional; he looks like he could go any second. “Family is a huge part of being successful at whatever job you do. For us, we’re away for so much time and that support is so importnat. I’m very lucky that I’ve got an amazing family and friends. At the start of summer we weren’t expecting to play much cricket at all; it’s frustrating not having a crowd here but we’d much rather be out there than not.”
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Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeere’s Jimmy
“Thank you very much, it feels amazing. I went to bed last night not expecting to bowl a ball today because of the weather. Hats off to the groundstaff - they’ve been brilliant. Even if I didn’t get the chance, there’s worse numbers than 599 to be stuck on for a few months. I saw the clip [of his first Test wicket] and it does feel a long time ago. I can still remember it pretty well and once Nasser got the field right I managed to bowl a bit better...
[Were you glad it went to Joe Root and not one of the other slip fielders?] I’d got rid of all of them by then! He was the only one left. I’ve been lucky with milestones - the [384th] wicket in Antigua went to Cooky and this one went to Joe. It does make it more special to share those moments with good friends.”
The Men of the Series are the two keepers, Jos Buttler and Mohammad Rizwan. That can’t have happened too often before.
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Here are the averages from this summer’s Tests. A few highlights:
- Zak Crawley was the leading runscorer with 417 at 69.50, despite missing two of the six games
- Stuart Broad was the leading wickettaker by a mile: he took 29 at 13.41. Chris Woakes was next with 17 at 20.47.
- Ben Stokes averaged 62 with the bat and 14 with the ball
England’s series win is their first against Pakistan since 2010. That audacious partnership between Jos Buttler and Chris Woakes was even more important than we realised at the time, as rain wrecked the rest of the series. There was still time for some exhilarating vignettes in the last two games at Southampton. As rain-ruined three-Test series go, this was a cracker.
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MATCH DRAWN!
After one ball of the last hour, the players on both sides shake hands and agree a draw. England have won the series 1-0, Jimmy Anderson is 600 not out, and everyone seems happy with life. The Pakistan team, who have contributed enormously to the series, all line up to shake Anderson’s hand as he leads the team off the field. It’s nice, if a little unnerving, to see such goodwill between the cricket teams of England and Pakistan.
83rd over: Pakistan 187-4 (Babar 63, Fawad 0) Babar hits consecutive boundaries off Anderson, the first through square leg and the second past Bess at point. Fawad, still on nought, is beaten later in the over by a cracking outswinger. “A peach of a delivery from the great man,” says Wasim Akram on Sky.
Imagine having such swing-bowling prowess that you are called ‘the great man’ by Wasim Akram.
82nd over: Pakistan 178-4 (Babar 54, Fawad 0) Broad has an LBW appeal against Babar turned down by Michael Gough, and that’s the end of the conversation. Replays showed the angle, from wider on the crease, was taking it past leg stump.
We’ll have plenty on Jimmy Anderson’s achievement later today. In the meantime, why not revisit this majestic piece of writing from Mike Selvey?
81st over: Pakistan 175-4 (Babar 53, Fawad 0) Jimmy Anderson is back for more, armed with the second new ball, and his first delivery swings encouragingly. Babar clips three through midwicket, which allows Anderson two deliveries at the new batsman Fawad Alam. It’s not enough. It’s never enough.
80th over: Pakistan 172-4 (Babar 50, Fawad 0) The ball before Shafiq’s dismissal, Babar reached a smooth, stylish fifty from 80 deliveries. He’s faced 80 balls, the team have faced 80 overs, so it’s time for the second new ball.
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WICKET! Pakistan 172-4 (Shafiq c sub b Root 21)
This game isn’t done yet. Shafiq pushes forward at Root and gets a thick inside edge towards short leg, where the substitute James Bracey takes a smart low catch.
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79th over: Pakistan 170-3 (Babar 49, Asad 20) One more over until the second new ball is available.
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78th over: Pakistan 166-3 (Babar 48, Asad 18) Dom Sibley is coming on to bowl his very occasional legspin. It must be the last day of term. He starts with a vile half-tracker that Shafiq cuts for a two, and it gets worse from there. The second ball is a full toss, the next a no-ball; thankfully Sibley settles down after that and completes an interesting over.
In the meantime, this is excellent news.
77th over: Pakistan 161-3 (Babar 48, Asad 15) Babar is tucking in to the spinners. He cuts Bess for four and then charges down the track to spank another boundary. Brilliant batting.
“Dear Rob,” says Boris Starling. “Not to cast aspersions on the IQ of The Greatest Living Yorkshireman™️, but I like the way that Sir Geoffrey ‘consulted a statistician’ to extrapolate how many wickets Fiery Fred would have got these days, rather than spend less than 10 seconds on his iPhone calculator doing a very simple piece of maths (307 divided by 67, times 156).”
As if he has an iPhone, never mind one with a “calculator”.
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76th over: Pakistan 151-3 (Babar 38, Asad 15) Four more to Babar, waves easily to third man off Root.
75th over: Pakistan 146-3 (Babar 33, Asad 15) Another quiet over from Bess, who has been played expertly by the Pakistan batsmen throughout this series.
74th over: Pakistan 146-3 (Babar 33, Asad 15) Babar works Root just short of the substitute Bracey at short leg. That would have been a helluva bonus for England, who still have an outside chance of doing something silly with the second new ball.
73rd over: Pakistan 144-3 (Babar 31, Asad 15) “One year ago today I was in the Hampstead Men’s Pond changing room,” says Zander Woollcombe. “With victory getting closer the number of scantily clad men crowding around a small portable radio in silence grew from two to five. As it was a scorching Sunday afternoon the pond was rammed with people queuing, screaming and splashing; their frivolity in marked contrast with the seriousness of those of us who cared about the cricket and hid from the rest of the mob under the shade of an oak tree between the diving board and the toilet cubicle.
“I had left my girlfriend with our six-month-old son saying I would have a quick dip and be back in time to give him supper and a bath. When I set off for the Heath I’d assumed it would all be over by the time I got there but had timed my swim carefully so that if the miracle did happen it would come while I was due at the pond.
“Weirdly, after only three hours sleep a night for months I felt serenely confident that Stokes and Leach would do it. To the horror of my fellow listeners I went for a leisurely swim when 40 were needed and by the time I got back it was under 10. I listened to the winning runs, sat on the grass and did a quick meditation, was only a bit late for looking after my son.”
72nd over: Pakistan 142-3 (Babar 31, Asad 13) Joe Root brings himself into the attack in an attempt to kill some overs before the second new ball. He runs back to his mark before each delivery, only for Babar to put some time back into the game by driving delightfully over wide mid-on for four.
“Beautifully played in over 58, Mr Smyth: taking the blame, then linking to a page showing your old mucker Sean Ingle making the ‘Jimmy Anderson, Attack Leader’ references,” says Tom Paternoster-Howe. “That was as subtle and elegant as Anderson switching from an inswinger to an outswinger.”
Alas, Sean did the first session and then I did the rest. LOOK, PATERNOSTER-HOWE, STOP TRYING TO TAKE THE CREDIT AWAY FROM ME! I WAS THE ARROGANT KNOW-NOTHING PRICK!
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71st over: Pakistan 137-3 (Babar 27, Asad 12)
70th over: Pakistan 136-3 (Babar 27, Asad 11) Nothing much is happening. It’s a bright evening in Southampton, so play could go on for a while yet. Thus, it’s time for drinks.
69th over: Pakistan 133-3 (Babar 26, Asad 9) Babar plays a terrific cover drive for four off Bess. It’s been an increasingly difficult summer for Bess, though he does look like a fast learner. A tour or two of the subcontinent early next year, Covid permitting, will continue his education.
“Can you please enlighten a newcomer to the OBO?” says Frank Entwistle. “When I saw ‘Live’, I assumed you were in the media centre at the ground. But now you say you’re not there. How does it work?”
‘Live’ just means that it’s happening now. When it started (2002) it was office-based and that has continued. It’s cheaper and also separates it from the proper journalism that appears in the paper. Some freelancers do it from the ground these days though.
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68th over: Pakistan 128-3 (Babar 22, Asad 8) Stuart Broad replaces Jimmy Anderson, who has match figures of 41-6-89-7. The rest of the England bowlers have taken 5-294 between them.
“My memory goes back to 1963 and I would have to agree with a certain G Boycott that the number one for me is Fred Trueman,” says Alan McClean. “He asked a statistician what his haul would be if he matched Anderson’s tally of 156 Tests and he came up with 715. And Fred had the greatest fast-bowling action of all.”
One thing against our Fred is that he never bowled in a Test in Asia, though there’s no reason why he wouldn’t have succeeded. More to the point, it’s a perfect excuse to repost this clip.
67th over: Pakistan 126-3 (Babar 20, Asad 8) Dom Bess replaces Jofra Archer, whose excellent figures (14-8-14-0) don’t tell much of a sstory. Babar bottom edges a cut past slip for four, and that’s that.
“Great work by J.M. Anderson,” says Stuart Newstead. “Looking down your OBO list of some of his milestone wickets, and now the 600th, all were bowled, LBW or caught in the slips. I wonder if he’s been bowling to a plan for a while?”
Heh. That brings to mind Glenn McGrath’s five-for at Old Trafford during the 2005 Ashes. England were chasing a declaration, and McGrath’s fifth was Ian Bell caught at long off. The disgusted look on his face suggested he was seriously considering a request to have it struck from the record books.
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66th over: Pakistan 121-3 (Babar 15, Asad 8) Anderson continues, though he looks very stiff. He should have walked straight off the field after taking Azhar’s wicket, unfurling a cigar as he approached the boundary edge.
65th over: Pakistan 119-3 (Babar 14, Asad 7) In theory England still have 33 overs to win the match, 18 of them with a new ball. But the light will be an issue at some stage, so don’t get too excited. We’ve had our feelgood quota for the day.
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64th over: Pakistan 117-3 (Babar 12, Asad 7) “All the talk about Anderson recently got me thinking about great England pace bowlers,” says Steve Hudson. “My memory goes back to 1976, and if I think of pace bowlers who could, at some point in their career, be called a great bowler, the usual names came up - Willis, Botham, Fraser, Gough, Harmison, Flintoff, Broad, Archer etc etc. All of those, on their day, looked almost impossible to play. As does Jimmy, but he, alone, has been scarcely ever less than a great bowler for ten years now. He is astonishingly consistently brilliant, and that for me means he is the best England pace bowler I’ve ever seen.”
Yes, nicely put. Others were scarier at their peak - Flintoff, Harmison, Archer - but Anderson’s has been close to his peak for a decade. He’s proof that sometimes, with truly great bowlers, even form is permanent. One of the most interesting things is that his last five years have been his best, so it wouldn’t be a surprise if he ploughs on to 700 or even 709. Murali’s 800 might be beyond him unless he goes on the Darren Stevens diet.
63rd over: Pakistan 112-3 (Babar 12, Asad 3) A maiden from Archer to who cares.
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62nd over: Pakistan 112-3 (Babar 11, Asad 3) Thing is, most people would be happy to go home now. Not Anderson. This sick bugger will be eyeing another victory, so that the wickets he’s taken here can be added to the 323. For all his skill - and he has a wrist for which most fast bowlers would make a Faustian pact - his mental strength and competitive energy are off the charts.
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We celebrate the Fab Four that won the Ashes in 2005, and quite right too. They took 748 Test wickets between them; Anderson, an unhappy understudy in that series, has 600 on his own. It’s a bonkers achievement.
Longevity has been always been a slippery concept to appreciate. Some of us even keep forgetting how to pronounce it. On the one hand it is quantifiable – 156 Tests, 17 years, 600 Test wickets – but on another it doesn’t come with an emoji. It does not go viral; it does not leave people high on sport. But it does something more important: it separates the greats from the immortals.
Jimmy Anderson has reached the mother of all milestones: 600 Test wickets, the first time a fast bowler has achieved the feat. Azhar Ali was surprised by some extra bounce and fenced the ball towards slip, where Root took a good catch above his head. It’s a crazy achievement, one that might not make sense for another decade or so. Of the 600 wickets, Anderson will cherish 323 the most – the ones that came in England victories, that he could celebrate behind closed doors with his mates. Anderson knows his value, how could he not, but he’s never been in it for individual achievements. It’s a good job, or he’d have a head the size of Lancashire.
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JIMMY ANDERSON TAKES HIS 600th TEST WICKET!!!
Pakistan 109-3 (Azhar c Root b Anderson 31)
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61st over: Pakistan 109-2 (Azhar 31, Babar 11) Babar jumps back in his crease to crack Archer down the ground for three, another classy and confident stroke. He is so good that his series numbers - 140 at 35 - feel like a huge letdown.
“Root has had several hours to think about tactics for the restart so it’s a bit disappointing to see Archer being forced to hammer it in short in the very first over,” says Mark Ferris. “What a waste of a talent! The cricket equivalent of lumping long balls up the field in the hope Andy Carroll gets on the end of one.”
60th over: Pakistan 105-2 (Azhar 30, Babar 8) Anderson continues to bowl very straight to Babar, who defends solidly. When he gets a bit of width later in the over, he drives elegantly through the covers for three. The old ball is doing nothing, so Anderson may have to wait until the second new ball - due after 80 overs - for his big moments.
“Is any sport as risk-averse as cricket?” says Gary Naylor. “Does anyone seriously believe that it was just too dangerous to play an hour (even two hours) ago? Players aren’t children - they would have to take a little more care in the field, but they could. Don’t forget that these fragile creatures voluntarily dive headfirst at the boundary advertising hoardings to save a run - or please a coach - all day every day.”
You might be right about today; I’m not there so I can’t say. But if the entitled chatter of recent days continues, somebody will eventually get hurt. I’m not saying that’s completely wrong – you can’t ban cars and all that – but I do think we need to be careful. If Dom Bess says conditions were “seriously dangerous” the other night, that should give everyone pause.
59th over: Pakistan 102-2 (Azhar 30, Babar 5) Archer continues to ram bouncers into the middle of the pitch, most of which are ignored by Azhar and Babar. Another maiden, as if that’s a good thing. England’s use of Archer is more than a little puzzling.
58th over: Pakistan 102-2 (Azhar 30, Babar 5) James Anderson starts at the other end - it would have been a helluva time for Joe Root to show who’s boss and throw the ball to Dom Bess - with a subcontinent field: men on the drive, wicket-to-wicket etc. A quiet over, two from it.
“Hi Rob,” says Tom Paternoster-Howe. “All this (justified) adulation for Jimmy Anderson’s bowling achievements over the past 17 years have got me reminiscing a bit, and I’m sure I remember the OBO coverage referring, somewhat disdainfully, to ‘Attack leader Jimmy Anderson’ for a Test, or even a series, after the coach or bowling coach at the time (this would have been in 2008 or 2010ish, I guess) said in an interview before a tour that he wanted Anderson to be the attack leader. I can’t seem to find it online though. Have I just dreamed it or did it really happen?”
Yeah, that was me, thinking I knew it all. Not sure it was a whole series but from memory it was during the 2009 Ashes. Until the 2010-11 Ashes I thought he was a rough-track bully. It’s nice to be so emphatically wrong. We do get some things right, though – I saw Stuart Broad during a T20 match in 2006 and told anyone who’d listen that he’d take 200 Test wickets. It seemed a lot back then.
57th over: Pakistan 100-2 (Azhar 29, Babar 4) Archer starts with a few harmless bouncers to Azhar Ali, bowled first from around and then back over the wicket. A maiden, and it’s on with the show at the other end.
“I was glued to TMS feeling every ball,” says Neil Parkes of the Headingley miracle a year ago today. “Crucially though, I was listening through iPlayer on my phone with an indeterminate lag to the real event. Just as Leach was hurrying to his one crucial run to tie the score the effing Guardian pinged me an alert with ‘Ben Stokes wins the Headingley Test for England’. I was so furious it took me a good 20 minutes to be pleased.”
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The players are out on the field now. Most are in jumpers as it’s extremely windy. Jofra Archer will open the bowling.
The England players are waiting impatiently by the boundary rope. Five minutes to go, just enough time for some pre-play music.
“Good luck with the casting and realisation of the d’Oliveira film,” says Charles Barr. “I just hope there might be a one-line cameo for the obscure individual whose letter to the paper sparked off the MCC protest movement. Sam Kydd or Hal Osmond could have done it in an earlier age, but who has that kind of bit-part stature now?
Reverting to the previous topic of cricket films and Hollywood, and the disparaging reference to Rattigan and The Winslow Boy. The play includes a character, DWH Curry, unsuccessful suitor, whose great long-ago moment came on the cricket field in 1895. A very artful evocation by cricketer Rattigan of the annus mirabilis of WG Grace. The British film of 1948 cut out this reference, but the 1999 remake, written and directed by the American David Mamet, restored the 1895 cricket memory! So perhaps there is still hope.”
“Beginners, the lot of you,” says Andrew Molloy. “Three-and-a-half-day Greyhound ride LA to New York, 1976. Considerably easier than the hitchhike in the reverse direction. Mind you, didn’t feel as long as Delhi to Srinagar with the novelty onboard VCR at full volume for 26 hours (no cricket videos, just Bollywood). Or even as long as ironing the family’s holiday clothes just now whilst waiting in vain for the British summer to get its act together...”
You should have tried being on tour with England in 1992-93.
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Play will resume at 4.15pm!
Woot woot! Unless the inspection at 4pm turns up anything unpleasant, play will resume a few minutes later. There are 42 overs remaining, weather permitting. I’m off to get some coffee and look up Jimmy Anderson’s middle name. See you for the restart.
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Another inspection at 4pm
They’re trying, bless them. This is all for Jimmy, really, because there’s next to no chance of a positive result.
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“That Anderson first ball OBO,” begins Nick Williamson. “Do we know what happened to Graham Edwards (120th over et seq)?”
120th over: England 403-6
McGrath brings up the 400 with a four driven to extra cover. He moves on to 67.
Graham Edwards writes: “What am I to do? I have been summoned to ‘have a talk’ with my girlfriend-at-the-time-of-writing at a ‘neutral venue’. I’ve got an uneasy feeling that she is going to dump me. I’d rather hoped to marry this girl so I’m not awfully keen on going. If I go, what should I say?” Readers, the floor is yours.
A google of the relevant terms - ‘Graham Edwards’, ‘cricket’, ‘Guardian’, ‘listening to No Distance Left To Run on loop’ - suggests there was no follow-up.
“What a shame that we aren’t going to get those World Test Championship points for winning this match,” says Stephen Brown. “On a more important note, Mr. Pye is correct as Mark Nicholas remembers here.”
I don’t get this attitude towards the World Test Championship. I could understand it a year ago, when England had no chance of qualifying for the final and therefore the whole thing was fair game for banter, but now we could actually win it!
“Have I completely made up the following fact?” wonders Steve Pye. “Did Channel Four miss Jimmy Anderson’s first Test wicket as they stopped covering the cricket at 6pm, and switched to Hollyoaks? It seems to be lodged in my head as something that did happen, but I’m getting on a bit and for some reason I may have invented this. Can the delightful OBO faithful help me out on this?”
I should know this as I was working on the Channel 4 cricket website at the time, but I’m pretty sure I’d also done a Rookwood.
Finally, at the Oval in 2018, Anderson completed the Who Writes Your Scripts Test by becoming going past Glenn McGrath to became the most prolific quick bowler in Test history.
WICKET! India 345 all out (Shami b Anderson 0): ENGLAND WIN BY 118 RUNS AND WIN THE SERIES 4-1!
The crowd know what time it is. Every delivery from Anderson is cheered like a hat-trick ball - and he needs only three balls to clean up Mohammed Shami! It burst straight through him to hit the stumps. England have won the match and James Anderson has taken 564 Test wickets - more than any quick bowler in the history of Test cricket. It’s an apt way to end a fairytale Test for England’s beloved old farts.
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At Lord’s in 2017, he cleaned up Kraigg Brathwaite to reach a barely believable milestone.
500 WICKETS FOR JIMMY! West Indies 6-1 (Brathwaite b Anderson 4)
James Anderson becomes the first Englishman to take 500 Test wickets!
It was a brilliant delivery from Anderson: on a full length and roaring back through to the gate to bowl Brathwaite. He didn’t have to wait long; that was his 12th delivery of the innings It all started here against Zimbabwe 14 years ago, when he was a talented kid with diabolical hair, and now he has 500 Test wickets. By the end of his career, he should have more Test wickets than any fast bowler in history. He’s an old don with a sober haircut these days, an absolute master of his craft whose returns have been better than ever in the last couple of years. All the England balcony are on their feet, and Anderson smiles almost sheepishly as he raises the ball to the crowd.
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WICKET! Guptill c Bell b Anderson 0 (New Zealand 2-1)
A few spots of rain, umbrellas are raised, and then the players are taken off. The final action sees Anderson take his 400th Test wicket, a classic slip catch, taken high by Bell at second slip!
Rain stops play
A great moment for Anderson, and he doesn’t really get time to enjoy it, so quickly is he ordered to set off back to the changing rooms.
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Anderson’s 384th Test wicket, which put him ahead of Sir Ian Botham as England’s leading wickettaker, came in Antigua in 2015.
WICKET! Ramdin c Cook b Anderson 57 (West Indies 294-7)
That’s it! Anderson has done it! Ramdin is beaten all ends up by a beauty, a leg-cutter that finds the outside edge and flies to Cook at slip. He’s out on his own – the most prolific wicket-taker in Test cricket for England.
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Wicket No300 came at Lord’s in 2013: Two-Metre Peter Fulton, who was an opening batsman but now spends his days in a horizontal position as a social-distancing aid.
WICKET!! Fulton c Swann b Anderson 2
Lovely delivery jagging in and looking to straighten slightly. Fulton played forward and it clipped the outside edge, Swann taking a fine catch low at second slip, his hands getting underneath the ball as he stooped forward. Jimmy joins the 300 club. I’d have had money in 2005 on Steve Harmison getting there.
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And here’s No200, during a(nother) heavy defeat at the Waca in 2010
WICKET! Siddle 8 c Collingwood b Anderson (84th over: Australia 308-9) lead by 390 There’s one. Siddle pokes a catch straight to third slip. That’s Anderson’s 200th Test wicket, in his 54th Test. He’s had to wait on 199 a little longer than he would have liked. Still, that makes him the ninth fastest Englishman to the mark, one match behind both Steve Harmison and Matthew Hoggard. He’s the second youngest to do it though, after old Iron Bottom. What odds he could be the man to go on and break Botham’s all-time record for Test wickets for England?
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Here’s No100, against South Africa at the Oval in 2008
WICKET! Kallis 2 lbw b Anderson (33rd over: South Africa 109-4 (Prince 0, De Villiers 4)
Another big appeal as Anderson beats the edge with Kallis fending. Ambrose says yes. Umpire says no. Two balls later Anderson swings one back in, catching Kallis flush on the pad. Anderson says yes, umpire says yes! That was a fantastic ball from Anderson. This is a proper collapse.
41st over: South Africa 131-5 (de Villiers 20, Boucher 2)
Kallis was Anderson’s 100th Test wicket, by the way, not bad for a man who’s spent so much time in the international peripheries.
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Let’s start with Jimmy’s first wicket, and a snapshot into a frankly more enjoyable world. Anderson bowled Zimbabwe’s Mark Vermuelen in the first Test at Lord’s. But it didn’t make it onto the OBO, because - and you’ll like this - it was a beautiful Friday evening in London and Dan Rookwood was thirstful.
2nd over: Zimbabwe 18-0
Having moments ago faced his first balls in Test cricket, Anderson now bowls some. It’s not the best opening over ever: two no-balls, three fours and 17 runs coming off it. Ah well, it’s 6pm and that’s my shift over. Thanks for your email company.
For more up-to-date and, let’s face it, probably more enlightening coverage of the remaining 18 overs of the day, click on the scorecard here.
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And now a 3.35pm BST inspection
Thanks Daniel, hello everyone. The umpires still look a bit uneasy with the state of the outfield; they will inspect again at 3.35pm. While we wait for some play, and hopefully Jimmy Anderson’s 600th wicket, I thought I’d delve into the OBO archives to see how we reported his previous landmarks.
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On which note, it’s time for me to call it a Test-match summer – thanks all for your company and comments, sorry I couldn’t get to them all. Here’s Rob Smyth to guide you through Jimmy’s 600th and Broad’s 5-11.
“56 hours? Pah!” says Martyn Baker of my pathetic sojourn. “Loads of people must have taken the pre-cheap flights Magic Bus down to Athens from London. I did it in 1982 – two-and-a-half days of discomfort. Still, I was young and carefree so…”
I remember a log-in on a football forum years ago, which was The Bus to Videoton – who Manchester United played in 1985. Momentarily excited, I checked Google Maps, but that effort comes in at a paltry 22 hours.
“Left Casablanca airport before the start of play,” says Nick Cherkas of his 25/08/19. “Expected a few lofted strikes to mid on before an Aussie win around lunchtime. Spent eight hours travelling to Saudi before getting some WiFi at Jeddah airport. Couldn’t believe my eyes - and many other bemused travellers and pilgrims couldn’t believe their ears. ‘Get in Stokesy you beauty!’ Finally arrived in Riyadh and watched the highlights. Happy days. It was also my daughter’s 14th birthday – she got a shout out on the OBO in 2005 which brought an England wicket. Perhaps a happy 15th birthday to Layla might bring the sun out in Southampton?”
Happy 15th birthday Layla!
“ I did a 48-hour greyhound trip from Miami to Toronto,” brags John Culley, “changing buses in New York. From NY I did a reverse charges call to my dad to tell him I was OK and he told me that England had somehow beaten Australia in the final match of the 1993 Ashes, thanks to Graeme Hick, Steve Watkin and others. Jumping up and down in excitement, much to the bemusement of assorted drunks, homeless people and police officers who inhabit American bus stations at 2 in the morning.”
The easy availability of sport is obviously a good thing, but I also miss the effort of following it, especially during my formative years. Being abroad and getting people to play coverage down the line, for example, my favourite memory being listening to the penalty shoot-out at the end of the 1997-98 play-off final, with a Sunderland fan.
“I finally gave up trying to keep my sons interested in cricket when they were about 11,” says John Moloney, “defeated by the lack of organised cricket or media coverage here in Denmark. At least the boys did not take up handball. Having just sent older son off to 6th form boarding school (Sorø Akademi) near Copenhagen, I was mightily surprised to get a mail from him yesterday telling me he’d taken up cricket. What? A check of the Sorø website revealed to my astonishment that they have a coach, a team, and were the site of the very first cricket match in Denmark (7th October 1866 since you ask). I had no idea. O frabjous day! Hope renewed! Who’d have thought?
I have just sent him the link to the OBO, and a copy of the Harold Larwood book recommended by someone here yesterday (thank you). Desperate to nurture the flame without swamping the poor boy.”
Callooh! Callay!
“So on this day last year I’d been out and about visiting galleries in an increasingly distracted fashion,” says David Abel, “checking my phone every few seconds or hours depending on whether time is real or perceived, and knowing that if a text pinged from one of my friends that it would be all over but hoping to get back to see the end. The strange thing is that as an Anglo-Sri Lankan I’d already gone through exactly the same experience on the 16th of February that year when Kusal Perera played the innings of his or indeed anyone’s life in Durban. What a ridiculous sport.
Time is illmatic, obviously, but yes, Perera’s innings is up there with the greatest we’ve ever seen. I guess we might rank those against better attacks higher, but that’s got to be the only aspect in which it’s surpassable.
Back to cut away, cut away, here’s Richard O’Hagan. “The definitive use of that line in song is surely in the utterly bonkers One Armed Scissor by At The Drive-In. There’s a lovely passage in Jim Bob Carter USM’s latest book where he describes the utter bafflement of everyone at seeing them perform it on Jools Holland.
“I’m struck by how many of the songs in Hamilton have titles that seem to have links to Test Cricket,” notes Kim Thonger. “Are there subliminal depths in this show and is its success in fact due to this possible dual interpretation? (I may have cheated a bit).
Act I
1. Alexander Harmison 2. Alan Lamb, Sir 3. My Shot 4. The Story Of Teatime 5. The Chappell Sisters 6. Fowler Refuted 7. You’ll Be Back 8. Right Hand Man 9. A Winter’s Ball 10. Padless 11. Satisfied 12. The Story of Teatime (Reprise) 13. Wait For It 14. Stay Alive 15. Ten Duel Commandments 16. Meet Me Legside 17. Stumped Would Be Enough 18. Dukes and Readers 19. History Has Its Eyes On You 20. Yorkshire (The World Turned Upside Down) 21. What Comes Next 22. Dear Muralitharan 23. Non-Stop
Act II
1. What’d I Miss 2. Long room Battle #1 3. Take A Break 4. Say No To This 5. The Ground Where It Happens 6. Chappell Defeated 7. Long room Battle #2 8. Washbrook On Your Side 9. One Last Time 10. I Know Him 11. The Atherton Administration 12. We Know 13. Hurricane 14. The Roland-Jones Pamphlet 15. Burn 16. Blow Us All Away 17. Stay Alive (Reprise) 18. It’s Quiet Upfield 19. Declaration of 1800 20. Your Obedient Umpire 21. Best of Wides and Best of Bouncers 22. The World Has Wides Enough 23. Who’s in, Who’s out, Who Tells Your Story.”
Firstly, mazal tov on the most inverted commas I’ve ever had to remove from an email. Secondly, for those interested, this pod on the song Satsified is brilliant.
“Yes this is another ‘I was there’ email,” says Sam Charlton. “I volunteer with St John Ambulance as a nurse. It was quite something, the usual drunk injuries, dehydration and other cricket related complaints, had all stopped after the lunch break. It was another cricketing miracle. It meant all of the team could watch the events unfolding, and even those who didn’t like cricket could tell something special was happening.”
Congruence ≠ Correlation, but a collective sucking it up seems to have gone on here.
“In the absence of any play yet,” returns Jon Blair, “how about a competition (no prizes) asking for best suggestions to play the following heroes and villains?
Basil D’Oliviera -Sporting Legend & Hero
John Arlott - BBC commentator, Superhero
Alec Douglas-Home - Former British Prime Minister, Villain
Colin Cowdrey - England cricket captain, Villain
Balthazar John Vorster - Nazi sypathiser, South African Prime Minister, needless to say a Villain
Anton Rupert - South African businessman, head of a tobacco empire, Villain
Jack Cheetham - former South African cricket captain, innocent dupe or collaborating villain? Hard to say
George “Gubby” Allen - MCC secretary and Supervillain.
“I disagree with Kim on adjusting according to daylight hours,” says Adrian Goldman of the earlier scheduling suggestion. “There is hysteresis involved in the response of the ground; all things being equal, the air is colder two hours after sunrise than two hours before sunset. Also, the rate of change in sunrise and sunset around midsummer is quite slow. So a fixed start time is perfectly rational – unless it is forecast to rain at 5pm, whereas it is perfectly sunny at 10.30 am. And, unlike even 30-20-10 years ago, the short-range, local forecasts are extremely accurate.”
Updated
“Bits of commentary rarely stick in my head the way that, say, quotes from Spaced do,” tweets D Johns, “but Agnew’s “It’s six or out! IT’S SIX!” does, maybe a little bit because of the resonance of childhood six-and-out rules, maybe because I’ve never heard Agnew lose it like that.”
Yep, an incredible moment. Though there are one or two at the Guardian with earlier experience of the same.
“As it is Ben Stokes Day, I should share my memory,” says Ekky Haque. “I was living in Da Nang, Vietnam but I teach English online to mainly Japanese students and it was my stupid fault that I didn’t take a day off so I resorted to streaming it on my phone while I was teaching.
As the game got quite tense, I had a mate trying to reassuring me that we’ll do it but I still carry scars from when I started following England in the 90s. I was multitasking pretty well until the missed run out but luckily I was teaching a 5yo so it was impeccable timing that I was teaching him about emotions. When Stokes hit the winning runs an involuntary tear ran down my cheek and I was teaching Alice in Wonderland, so just hoping my student was thinking that I was getting emotional over this. When I need something to cheer me up, I watch the final day again just to remind me that miracles still happen. More so now as I’ve been stuck in Kathmandu for the past 6 months...”
Alice in Wonderland and Ben Stokes, there cannot be many better combinations than that. “Will you run a little faster?” said a ginger to the tail, “There’s an Aussie close behind us, and he’s aiming for my bail.”
“Here’s Stokes’ innings set to Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture,” offers Tom Knight. “It’s the sort of thing some people might like.”
It’s the sort of thing all people should absolutely like. Sensational.
“I was on my bed in a little holiday hut near the gorgeous beach in Camerota in Cilento, southern Italy,” says Colum Fordham. “Despite his greater interest in football and Napoli, my younger son Simone (Italian spelling) even got into the incredible partnership of Stokes and Leach and watched the final moments on SKY with me via a slightly illegal streaming site whilst also following the OBO. Our shouts and screams (mine mainly) could be heard down the little avenue of the campsite but most people were at the beach so I don’t think we caused too much of a disturbance. My Italian wife Roberta humoured me and looked delighted at the result when I came rushing out to tell her as she relaxed on her sunlounger. “Bene,” she said before saying, “Shall we have a swim now?”.
I like the photo of the Sopranos which I’m finally getting around to seeing properly. (just about finished the first series). Excellent stuff, almost as good as your OBO coverage during this summer of love (of Test match cricket).”
The Sopranos is the greatest art of my lifetime (in my opinion). Enjoy it. And allow me to recommend the Talking Sopranos podcast (but stay away until you’ve watched till the end) and Alan Sepinwall and Matt Zoller Seitz’s Sopranos Sessions book.
Robert Robkey says the pitch is much better than when he last saw it, but isn’t sure we’ll get on within the hour following the next inspection. It’s going to take a serious stuartbroad from one of England’s bowlers to force a win.
“I was living in Brighton at the time, and it was the summer of my master’s dissertation,” writes Joel Foreman. “I woke up that morning assuming that I’d be able to have the cricket on the TV and my laptop open with my thesis on it, editing and note-taking. I think the first hour of the day was mildly productive but by midday I’d closed down the laptop, cancelled meeting friends at the beach and bunkered down for the second greatest afternoon of the summer. Is that right? I think I just about put the World Cup win over this innings, wonder if others agree?”
It’s the World cup for me, and not by the barest of margins. That isn’t because I don’t appreciate the gravity of Heading, Heading ley. But the World Cup win was something I’d been waiting for nearly all my life, since I was laid on the couch as an ill eight-year-old, watching Gatting reverse-sweep Border; since I made a mess of a maths exam as a wild 13-year-old, listening to a Game Boy earphone tucked down the arm of my school blazer as Harvey fell short; and all the rest of it.
We're to have another inspection at 3pm
Hopefully we’ll get some play shortly after that.
“Last summer I was attending a friend’s wedding in Slovakia during the Headingley Test,” says Phil Lacy. “The day after, in the scorching sun, I followed Stokes and friends stumbling and bumbling their way to apparent defeat while sitting on a jam-packed coach to Bratislava. Sitting in a St*rbucks in a Bratislava shopping centre, dying of heat exhaustion, I’m not sure what was more refreshing: the ridiculous but delicious iced coffee drink, or the madness of Jack Leach helping Stokes do the unthinkable, possibly the only person for miles around with an interest in the game.”
“We were over from France to help our daughter and partner with their new house,” explains Richard Hirst. “And now we are there again, braving quarantine, because we hadn’t seen them since Christmas. As the greatest Bob said, Ah, but I was so much older then.......”
He was 24 when he wrote that. 24! But he didn’t make a double century for England at 22.
“Luke Richardson’s email has triggered something in me,” says Oliver. “There are two moments of commentary that really stick with me from that. One is before Stokes’ switch hit six, where the commentators are both saying he’ll start to look for a single – not Stokes. Never Stokes.
The other is the pair of ‘That’s all the way isn’t it?!’ and Up in the air again. Western Terrace again! Six again!!’.
I was, of course, glued to the OBO - it was only watching the highlights that I got the terrific commentary that went with the run chase. What a magnificent day.”
The way the commentary team elevated the action without elevating themselves remains a staggering achievement.
“Just reviewing the footage,” emails Brian Withington, “I was very pleased to see that Jack Leach was sporting a trusty bat from Taunton’s Millichamp & Hall – carefully selected supplier of my son’s early blades. Stokes on the other hand opted for the Gunn & Moore with bazooka attachment.”
I will forever be a Grey-Nicolls double scoop advocate, mainly because I’m not strong.
“A year ago,” says Smylers, “I was simultaneously pleased to have finally ended a decade without seeing live Test cricket, for a variety of reasons (rain, inconveniently timed holidays, my own ineptitude at booking tickets, the ECB not awarding Headingley any Tests in a summer, England losing within 3 days and — most unexpectedly of all — England winning within 3 days) while also a little disappointed that, after all this wait, the question was only whether England would lose slowly or collapse quickly.
Obviously those low expectations made what happened in the afternoon so much the better. During the morning our group caught up with each other, a general buzz around the ground suggesting others were similarly engaged. In the afternoon though there was no chat, everybody focussing on the cricket. The cheers between balls (a Jack Leach dot ball greeted as enthusiastically as a Ben Stokes boundary) alternated with near silence as each bowler ran in. Nobody needed to say anything: we all knew exactly what each other were thinking.
Thank you to my friend Susanna for offering the spare ticket, and even more so to her sister’s boss — if Helena hadn’t been sent on a work trip that week, her ticket wouldn’t ever have become spare. Sorry you missed out, Hel.”
Yes, it’s a while since every ball seemed like its own discrete match – the last time I felt that way was probably England v South Africa for the mace in 2012, though the 2013 English summer Ashes had their moments.
Hello again. Inspection coming up...
Right, I guess that’s “lunch”. Thanks for your company and comments to this point; I’ll be back in 40 to get through those I’ve not yet got through, and for the inspection that will hopefully result in some cricket.
“On Nasser’s ‘Cut away, Cut away’ moment,” says Fergus Pickles, “it’s not so much biblical as heroic and epic in the truest literary sense, invoking the dactyllic meter favoured by Homer and also used so famously in Tennyson’s Charge of the Light Brigade: ‘Half a league, Half a league/ Half a league Onward/ All in the valley of death/ Rode the six hundred’.”
It is certainly that, but can it not be both?
“I remember it well,” says Rich Harding of his 25 August 2019. “I was cruising my narrowboat up the Trent and Mersey Canal, through Preston Brook tunnel, and onto the Bridgewater Canal. It was around the time that I got onto the Bridgewater that 5 Live went over to the live commentary on Sports Extra - I normally cruise with my AM radio, so was just getting updates to that point. I can vividly remember passing various people asking for news, and letting out an almighty roar at the climax, somewhat disturbing a towpath barbecue.
As an aside, Ads and Colin, the two guys in the bubble who run the electronic site screens / boards, are also both narrowboaters, and very good friends of ours. Colin’s the one with the dreads.”
What I’m loving about these accounts is how they capture what Christopher Moltissanti termed “The regularness of life”. He was complaining about it, but the beauty of a sport which takes place over such a long period is how it twizzles itself around all that we are.
“Sitting by the shores of Lake Titicaca,” says Kieran Donoghue of his whereabouts a year ago. “Had checked out but hung around the hotel to use the Wi-Fi and follow the match on Guerilla cricket/the OBO. My wife was very patient – fortunately we had several hours to kill before our bus to La Paz so there was no rush.”
Tangentially, what’s the longest bus ride you’ve ever done or, put another way, can anyone beat 56 hours, from Lencois in Salvador, Brasil, to Iguacu Falls?
“A year ago I was at a dire La Liga game watching RCD Mallorca lose 1-0 to Real Sociedad,” emails David Jacob. “Cricket on my headphones. Many bemused Spanish football supporters wondering why I was cheering randomly.”
“Memories, misty watercoloured mem’ries,” muses James Debens. “I was following the OBO on my iPhone, walking laps of my father-in-law’s Peugeot that he parks in his kitchen on the eastern coast of Spain. My wife and her family were chatting at the table, slightly confused by my striding, but our two King Charles spaniels were following my circuits as I clocked up my daily 20k.
Alas, our beloved Bentley passed away of lymphoma 12 weeks ago, but I have the happy memories of that day. In fact, if play begins, I might put on those bright yellow Converse again and do laps of the dining table to recreate the good vibes and will on Jimmy’s 600th.
My brother-in-law has only ever followed two cricket matches: firstly, when England achieved the highest ever team ODI score against Pakistan in 2016, posting 444-3; and last year’s Stokes-does-Hulk-smash wonder game in the Ashes. So David must think that cricket is part of the Marvel universe.”
But what does he think about bright yellow Converse?
“Over the years I’ve tried to introduce cricket to my (Italian) partner’s friends and family, starting with the Ashes series that was available live on the ECC Youtube channel in 2013,” says Mike Barron.
“They gave up any interest last year as I sat with them (but not with them at all, if you get my drift) at a gelateria in Francavilla al Mare, shouting along with the OBO on my phone, until finally doing a strange jig around the tables, my partner sadly offering the only apology required…. ‘E Inglese…!’”
“This time last year I was in a French campsite having just completed my stint as part of a team taking part in a 24-hour cycling race around the Le Mans circuit. My equally knackered teammates (who weren’t quite as absorbed or obsessed by the cricket as I was) didn’t really appreciate my getting increasingly distracted by the radio as we edged closer and closer throughout the afternoon, especially when I was supposed to be helping take down the tent.
I twigged with about half an hour left that there was another British group sitting nearby, also listening to TMS and getting excited. As their radio appeared to be about 20 seconds behind I tried not to react too loudly when each boundary was scored or when Lyon fluffed the runout/burned the review and had the LBW turned down. I failed to keep very quiet when that final four was scored, though. I can only hope for their sake they hadn’t twigged that we were also listening and that they thought I was just really excited about getting the tent and all its poles back in the bag.”
In fairness, that is an invigorating moment.
“Cut away, cut away” also reminds me of this. The lyrics have certainly changed in my bathtub renditions.
I am gone. Absolutely gone.
CUT AWAY, CUT AWAY FOR FOUR! WHAT AN INNINGS, WHAT A PLAYER! TAKE A BOW BEN STOKES! THE ASHES WELL AND TRULY ALIVE BECAUSE OF ONE CRICKETER, AND THAT CRICKETER IS BENJAMIN STOKES!
“After yesterday’s glorious trip through cricket and literature I was going to hold fire today,” confesses Pete Salmon, “but your suggestion that ‘Cut away, cut away for four’ has a Biblical feel has dragged me back. It’s an example of parallelism – the Lord himself tends to use it, and if its good enough for Him. You’ve got your synonymous parallelism, your antithetic, your formal, your synthetic and your emblematic. Nasser’s is synthetic I think, but I have to check my Robert Alter translation of the Bible to be sure, to be sure. Sits up next to the Wisdens obviously.”
My favourite translation is the JPS, but I wondered if Nasser’s bit was deliberately anaphoric or just him adapting to a change in circumstance as he realised the ball was going to the fence.
“There’s probably about two hours before I really need to go to bed,” says Phil Withall, “so you may as well step out for a bite to eat and a cup of whatever Guardian journalists are drinking these days.
“Ten minutes after I have retired play will resume, Jimmy will then take his 600th wicket and I will awake tomorrow to the combination of elation and regret that have accompanied my cricketing life for so many years.”
From your mouth to His ears.
“I was watching while spending a couple of weeks with my Spanish family-in-law at their holiday home in a small village,” recounts Ewan McDonald. “No-one could quite understand how I had been following the same game for days, least of all my father-in-law as I tried to explain the rules in my middling Spanish.
My wife, who has no interest in the sport, joined me for the last wicket partnership, and was literally leaping around the living room with excitement. What a day. Nothing’s better than Test cricket.”
It’s not easy being drunk watching Test cricket all the time. Everyone would do it, if it were easy.
“I live in Edinburgh, and it’s normally festival time in August,” says David Jarman. “For final hour or so of That Test Match I was at the opera, with TMS playing in one earpiece. My heart swelled with the winning runs, I clenched my fists. I looked around to see everyone rapt in the drama of the moment as Wagner’s Ring Cycle headed towards its finale. I wiped some dust from my eye. Jimmy Anderson is great, isn’t he?”
Heh, this reminds me of story. A few years ago, we lost a good mate of mine, and at the end of a dreadful week, I went to see Beyoncé as my wife is a huge fan (I have since been to Rome in order to do the same). Anyhow, the purchase of Personality Enhancer was extremely dear and extremely time-consuming, so little bottles of wine deposited into a pint pot made most sense. I was getting to end of my second and realised that my eyeballs were sweating, a fact not lost on the woman next to me, who leant over, put a hand on my shoulder, and said soothingly “Beyoncé’s great, isn’t she?”
“Yesterday’s OBO diverted into how difficult it is to get films featuring cricket financed,’ emails Jon Blair. “Well here’s a thing. For the last four years Michael Grade (yes, one and the same Lord Grade) and I (You can google me to see what I have done in the past) have been trying to get the finance together for a feature film based on Peter Oborne’s magnificent book about the political conspiracy to ensure Basil D’Oliviera wouldn’t get picked for the infamous England tour of South Africa in 1968. It is as much a story of racism at the highest levels of the MCC and the British establishment, as well as the mendacity of the then England captain along with the more predictable corrupt practices of the Powers-that-Were in the South African government, as it is a story of cricket, all set against the generational political changes of 1968, but here we still are without anyone prepared to finance it. Whether that is due to no appetite for a story featuring a cricketer at its heart, or something else I won’t ever know, but to say it is heartbreaking not to be able to tell this story on the big screen or even television is heartbreaking.”
Yes, that sounds great, and I feel you. When we were thinking about cricketing stories that would translate well to the silver screen, this one immediately sprung to mind. On TMS last week, Manoj Badale, owner of Rajasthan Royals, was saying that cricket has a big opportunity in America because of the growing south Asian population, so perhaps that, along with the growing recognition of south Asia itself, might help. I hope so.
“Gah,” says Sean Clayton. “I’ve now got the closing paragraph of your opening stuck in my head, to the tune of Alanis Morrisette’s ‘Thank U’. Worst of all, it almost, but doesn’t quite, scan.
(I suppose I should be grateful that it’s not to the tune of the old Cadbury’s Roses advert).”
We’re at Headingley, so I guess I can tangentially reference the song sung to the Roses tune when Leeds beat Arsenal to hand Manchester United the title in 2003.
“Wow-wee! What are we witnessing here from Ben Stokes?!”
“What a summer he’s having! What a cricketer he is!”
“Watching the footage of that last hour from Headingley reminds me how different it all looks with a crowd in,” says Tim Stafford. “I have loved the cricket this summer but imagine how much better it would be again to see it played in front of packed houses or – even better – be helping to pack the house yourself.
I had given up on the Headingley game after Woakes had fallen, and was at the pub for my friend’s birthday. With two kids I rarely get beyond the sofa these days but I decided that it was a good idea at 2pm to start drinking Sambuca. I remember Stokes’ century on the pub TV and have a hazy recollection of toasting the win with more Sambuca. We apparently ended up at a party hosted by Basement Jaxx where I fell over in the middle of everyone and broke my finger. I somehow made it home and my wife found me asleep on the kitchen floor next morning.”
A contribution every bit as vital as that of Stokes and Leach, and I’m not even joking.
“May I make a proposal for a more scientific approach to the start and finish times?” asks Kim Thonger. “Why are we fixated on a fixed start time? It’s not beyond the wit of man, although that may not apply to the ECB, to devise a variable start time through the summer months based on actual daylight hours and angle of sun’s rays, see marvellous sliding thingummibob here...”
I think there’s something to be said for standardised times, but agree that when we’re chasing playing time, we need to be flexible and proactive.
“I’d missed the previous day’s play, because we’d driven to Oxford to see friends,” says Nath Jones. “On the way back, the head gasket of my terrible old Corsa blew, in the outside lane of the M40. I rolled the car to the hard shoulder then convinced a heroic taxi driver to pick up my wife and kids and take them to the nearest tube station while I waited for the AA.
The additional problem was that we were meant to drive said car to France on holiday about 36 hours later. I spent Saturday night finding the cheapest hire car, then listened to the beginning of Stokes’s innings while on a train to Gatwick on the Sunday to pick up the car. I listened to TMS while driving back to London (having convinced the car hire guy to give me a free upgrade to the biggest car they had), eventually giving up on radio, parking the car up, and watching the last hour on my phone, sat in a parking space somewhere near Croydon. Not how I would’ve imagined watching England’s greatest Test innings.”
Siri, what is serendipity (apart from Stephen and Mark Gottlieb’s sister)?
Further succour: this week’s Spin.
There'll be an inspection at 1.40pm
Hopefully we might get some play quite soon after that.
“I was on the usual OBO/TMS diptych,” says Guy Hornsby, “the best place to be. I got more and more tense so went into the garden then ended up driving down the road and listening in a garage on the Washway Road in Sale, celebrating by shouting on my own to odd looks. Cricket, the BEST.”
This thing of ours.
“I live in NZ and a year ago, I stayed up all night watching England’s increasingly improbable heroics,” says Martin Burley. “The match-winning shots were played barely in time for me to dash airportwards for an early-morning business trip. My contributions to the meetings that day were of dubious value, infused as they were with a heady concoction of euphoria, disbelief and sleep deprivation.
My colleagues weren’t too fazed though, since I’d been in exactly the same state after a very similar trip following the World Cup final.”
“Tally ho from Slovakia, where it is not raining, just so you know,” boasts George Brownwitheney. “I couldn’t hack it watching on the telly last year so I went and sat in a hedge with a tinny, under the guise of protecting my father’s farm from pigeons, with TMS playing from my phone and pretending I wasn’t listening. No pigeons were harmed, and I got sunburn. Thoroughly worthwhile.”
This is it: Test-match cricket, turning sentients into scarecrows. With the thoughts that we’ll be thinkin’, we could be another Lincoln, if we only had a brain.
“May I say a hearty thank you to you and all you colleagues on the OBO and Tanya and the CC Live team for your excellent coverage this summer,” says David Harris (no, not my dad). “Regarding the Headingley Miracle, my daughter and I were sat glued to the telly, willing every stroke away from Aussie fielders, praying for Tim Paine’s mitts to turn into Gloves of Clang. As Stokes ran out of partners, until the unflappable Jack Leach, we barely had any fingers left, forget about nails. And with crushing inevitability, just as she had in the World Cup Final earlier in the summer, my wife came home from work and started bustling about. ‘I’ll make some food, what do you want? Who’s winning? What’s the score? How long’s left?’ All the standard, non-cricket fan questions. ‘Be. Quiet.’ we hissed. Then the burned review. Lyon’s dropped run-out. Jack’s one (oh, what a One). And then the joy. Marvellous. Enjoy the ODIs and T20s later in the ‘summer’, and maybe we might get some limited attendance at the Blast later. Who knows.”
I think this is my favourite bit.
Cannot get enough of this elite having a tantrum, kicking the rubbish over, and having to put it all back in the bin. pic.twitter.com/KFcvTOcQp1
— Daniel Harris (@DanielHarris) March 23, 2020
“I had recently moved to the Netherlands and was enjoying a day at my local beach,” says Tom Paternoster-Howe. “My wife and daughters were in the water, cooling off because it was about 30 degrees in the shade. Meanwhile, I, who would normally be splashing about in the lovely cold North Sea, was glued to my phone reading the OBO. Every refresh of the screen, I was sure was going to bring news of a wicket &, ultimately, heroic failure. It was exquisite torture, with the happiest of endings.”
A beach in the Netherlands! They’ll have one in Paris next.
Rob Robkey is taking us on a walk around the square, and there’s still a fair bit of standing water about. The middle is worse than the outfield, but it’s not raining anymore, and he reckons that if that stays the case, we might get three hours. In other words, it’s perfectly set up for a burst of pure, uncut SJ Broad.
“I was in southern Spain for my brother’s wedding a few days later,” emails Nick Donovan. “La Vuelta de Espana was passing through our town, so I went down with my Dad to see them pass through – quickly, obviously – while following on Cricinfo.
With the crowd all checking phones for when the cyclists would arrive, the signal dropped with England needing 80 or so (I think). As it was baking hot, and my Dad is an old man, we stopped in an Irish bar to treat ourselves to a Guinness. When I walked in, I assumed it would be over, but England needed 12...”
Down like silk.
“You’re right to highlight what an extraordinary achievement it has been from everyone involved to enable us to have test match cricket this summer,” writes Robin Durie. “We owe a particular debt of thanks to the West Indies and to Pakistan for making this possible. They have proven to be two very likeable teams – both led by impressive and decent captains – who have contributed greatly to a pair of enjoyable and often exciting series. Let’s hope the ECB is able to reciprocate in the future, & to support the ongoing development of West Indies and Pakistani test match cricket.”
Amen v’amen.
“Will we be seeing Yasir Shah in this country again?” asks John Starbuck. “Like Lionel Messi, whom he resembles, you can sense an era passing.”
I hope not but I’m not sure – it doesn’t much look like his enthusiasm’s waning. A few days ago, Michael Holding said that one morning, he woke up, looked out of the window and thought nah, don’t fancy it, so retired that day. Yasir will do what’s best for him, and if he stays fit I think he might hang about for another four or five years, especially now that Tests are returning to Pakistan.
“I was on holiday in France with my parents and my (Italian) wife’s family,” recalls James Appleton. “It was the last day and we’d packed up to go to the airport, but our departure was delayed as the English contingent sat out in the garden shouting at TMS – much to the bafflement of my in-laws.”
A parents and parents in-law double-header, goodness me. I think we may have found our person who appreciated Ben Stokes the most.
“Yep, the weather here in Hampshire is filthy,” says Luke Richardson. “One year ago, I was stood with my children in unbelievable heat at Eurodisney, watching the tea-time parade. An hour or two before I’d given up on the OBO but thought I’d sneak a look to see how bad it had been. Hope had done one. I spent the next half-hour barely noticing the amazing floats, or my children, as I frantically kept refreshing before the battery on my phone gave up. ‘You must have enjoyed that parade,’ said my wife noticing my cheerfulness.
When we got home, I could not stop watching the re-runs and even this morning found myself reciting Nasser: “Cut away, cut away for four … what a player … etc and so on”. Atherton’s disbelieving ‘What a shot that is’ for the reverse sweep six also sticks in the memory.”
I’m slightly obsessed with rhythm of the “cut away, cut away”. It’s biblical really, given that a repeating word changes “Thou shalt” to “Thou shalt surely”.
“I’m sorry but I’m not having it,” chunters Geoff Wignall. “‘... Best television programme that ever was’ indeed. That was Bagpuss. I’m not suggesting this as a suitable rabbit-hole down which to take the OBO. Oh no.”
I was more of a Mr Benn man, but I concede that there’s something compelling about a furry cat that looks like Battenberg.
“A year ago today,” says Tom Rebbitt, “I was outside my daughter’s ballet lesson in Gothenburg lying on the grass in the sun and shouting at TMS to the amusement of the passing Swedes. Especially at Glenn McGrath….”
“At the risk of adding to the 10:30 start chat,” says Chris Lingwood, “why does test cricket start at 11? Especially since we have such horrible trouble with light! Why can’t they just get cracking at 10 or earlier? Think of all the cricket that would have given us over the last few weeks. I’d gladly get up earlier if I was heading to the ground.”
I guess people coming from far away have more time to arrive, and because we have long evenings, we can give the dew time to dry.
“I distinctly remember where I was this time last year,” says Michael Robinson. “Having watched all of the first two days of England getting battered, I went to North Wales to climb and pretend cricket didn’t exist. I was up on the Idwal Slabs above Cwm Ogwen belaying my friend following the OBO (obviously), unsure how I had sufficient signal.
Obviously the pulsating game has me on edge when I maybe should have been concentrating on the climber, but you can’t have it all. I watched as the score crept up, until Leachy was on strike, 1 to draw, 2 to win, then the ropes went tight and I hear “CLIMB WHEN READY”. By the time I’d followed up the route my phone had died and it took my two more hours to find out what had happened. Nightmare.
Incidentally it’s bright in Manchester and I feel that again if they’d hosted the match here we’d be playing sooner rather than later, and would’ve got a full day in yesterday.”
Yes, agreed. That’s the problem with Tests in the south as opposed to Tests in M16: you can’t trust the weather.
“I took my son to watch the mighty Northants beat Warwickshire at Edgbaston in the T20 Blast on the day of Ben Stokes’ (and Jack Leach’s) heroics,” says Steven Pye. “The oohs and ahhs coming from the concourse below kept us aware of the progress of that last wicket partnership.
The groan and subsequent cheer accompanying Nathan Lyon’s slight fumble will live with me forever. Of course, we were tempted to go and watch the action on the screens below, but being a slightly pathetic cricket fan I told my son that we’d lose if we left our seats. At the end of it all, I have to admit that I did have something in my eye.”
It’s a funny one, isn’t it, because England winning didn’t exactly mean anything in the grand scheme of things ... except it meant everything in the grand scheme of everything, a reminder of how good things can be and the unbelievably moving experience of someone realising themselves, after experiencing industrial quantities of doubt, in front of our eyes.
“Wot, no fisticuffs?!” asks Brian Withington. “Whatever happened to a single 10:30am start in a Test battered by the elements? Remarkable. On a more collaborative note, for some reason your preamble had me reaching for this.”
Bill Sykes is up there with my most terrifying villains of all-time.
“We’d gone down to see my parents who don’t have Sky,” tweets Miranda Jollie, “assuming nothing much was going to happen, ended up huddled with my husband and dad around TMS in the garden, while my mum supplied beer and ice cream.”
I like beer and ice cream.
Athers and Wardy – yes, we’re on nickname terms – are discussing the absence of a crowd. And it’s important that, when reflecting on how much we’ve enjoyed a summer we didn’t think we were getting, we don’t forget that sport is not a television programme – though it is the best television programme that ever was.
Where were we all? I was extremely stressed, sat in an editing suite with a fantastic and heroic editor, who did not have the slightest interest in the cricket I was sneakily watching on his blind side.
And Oliver has the same idea. “It’s a year since Jack Leach’s match winning 1*,” he says. “Might I suggest, given the rain, that we spend an hour reliving it on the OBO?”
Play will be delayed
“The outfield is absolutely a bog,” says Ian Ward, before referring us directly to Headingley a year ago today.
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Sight for sore eyes:
🔍 A closer inspection of the progress of the redeveloped Compton and Edrich stands.#LoveLords pic.twitter.com/jG7L0TxA9H
— Lord's Cricket Ground (@HomeOfCricket) August 25, 2020
“You did miss someone,” emails Mark Hooper. “Thank you OBO staffers for making us laugh and argue over obscure facts and occasionally make us feel like we have something in our eye.”
Your pleasure is our pleasure.
Not great news, I’m afraid: the Rose Bowl is wet, and likely to remain thus for the morning session. There is, though, a reasonable prospect of cricket this afternoon, potentially for long enough for England to force a win, and at the very least for James Anderson to hit 600. In the meantime, stick with me here and while away away the hours, conferring with the flowers, consultin’ with the rain. And our heads we’ll be scratchin’ while our thoughts are busy hatchin’, while we’re waiting for some play.
Preamble
Round these parts, we spend quite a lot of time talking about how much we love this thing of ours that we love so much: why we love it, how we love it, what that love means. That loving it is really part of loving ourselves, however strange and unpalatable that sometimes feels. To each other at least, we are wholly known.
Well, we are now, because “all this” has shown us an entirely different aspect to everything we thought was true: you don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone ... and come back. Over the course of this Test-match summer, we’ve been part of two wonderful series played by three wonderful teams ... and yet it’s not really that is it, rather the simple knowledge that our friend, our teacher and our love is there with us and for us, caring for us, sustaining us and detaining us precisely when we’ve needed it most.
And now this is it. So, thank you West Indies. Thank you Pakistan. Thank you England. Thank you umpires. Thank you ECB. Thank you Sky. Thank you BBC. Thank you broadcasting staff. Thank you groundstaff. Thank you medical staff. Thank you medical experts. Thank you hotel staff. Thank you Lancashire. Thank you Hampshire. Thank you anyone i’ve forgotten. Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you. Thank you so very bloody much. Thank you.
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