Professional sport was never designed to be played in such a vacuum. But that is what we have in the UAE – and at too many other Test venues around the globe. An international match should be a spectacle played out in front of an enthralled crowd. But whether in Dubai, Abu Dhabi or that white elephant of a stadium in the middle of the Antiguan countryside not even the craftiest of TV cameramen can disguise the sombre sight of rows and rows of empty seats.
This sad state of affairs can nonetheless prompt admiration for the players involved. On my TV screen a Test match in the UAE is obviously diminished by the lack of spectators but there is no denying the intensity of those taking part. At least they have never seemed distracted or bored. Every sinew has been strained in a deserted stadium. Such resolve has been a credit to the players of both sides.
They are, of course, professionals but they are not machines. In some ways these cricketers are like thespians playing to half-filled auditoriums. On Sunday I went along to listen to two “Rogues on the Road”, starring a couple old colleagues from Test Match Special. Henry Blofeld and Peter Baxter are on tour again after three weeks at the Edinburgh festival last summer and they stopped off in Exeter. The audience was in three figures but there were quite a few empty seats as well.
But did that deter the old troupers? Of course not. They were as engaged and animated as if they had been playing to a full house. Such indefatigable professionalism could only be admired. The same applies to the teams of Misbah ul Haq and Alastair Cook. Actually the best batsmen always look as if they are batting in a vacuum anyway. They often appear oblivious to the size of the crowd or the match situation. Instead they are immersed in their own world. Think of Geoffrey Boycott, for whom the batting crease was his most natural habitat; and Sachin Tendulkar, Rahul Dravid and Jacques Kallis or, this winter, Cook and Younis Khan.
In Test cricket – as opposed to the white-ball formats – the match situation is often irrelevant to a worldly-wise batsman and it is therefore parked at the boundary edge. The best batsmen play more or less in the same way whatever the score, whether their team is trying to save or win the Test match. Occasionally - much less than 10% of the time, I would guess – this can be to the detriment of their own side. Usually it is to the team’s advantage to have a so-called “selfish” or “self-obsessed” player bedding down at the crease, unencumbered by the complexities of the state of the match.
This is something to ponder for England’s new band of batsmen (Moeen Ali, Bairstow, Stokes and Buttler, all of whom have been struggling in alien conditions). Provided they stay in the team they will learn how to play their own way with fewer concessions to the match situation and they will probably become improved Test batsmen as a consequence. Adil Rashid, albeit a Test novice, did this well in the second innings in Dubai. In a sense the pressure was off by the time Buttler and Stuart Broad had been dismissed. The game seemed up. However Rashid was hungry for more Test match experience.
Particularly impressive was the way he played Yasir Shah – especially after his nightmare dismissal in the first innings. He soon had the confidence to wait and play late, often on the back foot yet with the growing confidence that he would have time to adjust. The pressure did not return until the realisation dawned that the match could, after all, be saved, whereupon Rashid’s tranquil vacuum was disturbed. By then he was all too aware of the match situation.
Meanwhile cricket administrators are understandably concerned about too many vacuums at modern Test grounds. Hence in Adelaide at the end of November the first floodlit Test match will take place. My guess is that it will be a success despite concerns about the adequacy of the pink ball. Two vibrant sides, Australia and New Zealand, are participating; Adelaide possesses a wonderful sporting theatre in the middle of the city, which is now run by the always-enterprising Keith Bradshaw, who was once the chief executive of the MCC.
The Adelaide Oval can now hold 50,000 comfortably and often does so for AFL matches. There will not be that many there to watch Australia play New Zealand. But expect the match to attract a large crowd. Increasingly that happens in Adelaide, no matter what time the game is starting.
Oddly enough two great Australian captains have opposite views on this experiment. Steve Waugh is in favour of floodlit Test cricket; Ricky Ponting, a younger traditionalist, is against. Night cricket has always worked well in Australia and there’s a fair chance that this will apply to Test cricket as well. No doubt the TV broadcasters welcome the experiment.
In England the TV companies welcome night cricket as well in the hope of larger audiences. However they doggedly prefer to remain blinded to the pitfalls: in mid- summer it does not get dark early enough to allow the floodlights to create their bit of magic. In late summer when darkness descends earlier it is usually too cold and uncomfortable for the spectators, who have already had to disrupt their working lives in order to be there for a 2pm start. Not for the first time we are reminded that the preferences of the TV companies always trump those of the poor spectators, huddled together in their anoraks. Floodlit Test cricket in England, by the way, would be a calamitous move.
So that is the Spin vacuum filled during Andy Bull’s absence. We all welcome him back eagerly next week. I’m off to the UAE soon to watch the white ball being belted around the desert. At least the stands should be full for that.
This is an extract taken from the Spin, the Guardian’s weekly cricket email. To subscribe just visit this page, find ‘The Spin’ and follow the instructions.
