Ashes Poetry

There are well over ten thousand empty seats at the ground today: trust me to choose the only which hadn’t tipped up. It was like sitting fully dressed in a bath. ‘Must have rained last night,’ I said to my neighbours. The wicket looks surprisingly green and Strauss in particular plays and misses outside off-stump, though that is his way. It must be curious batting; facing the pavilion the ground is packed, the city end deserted. In a month’s time the entire ground will be full. Third Test, the series still alive, even if one side is dormy two. Will we have an Edgbaston 2005, Flintoff consoling Lee after England’s three run victory, or Edgbaston 2008, South Africa making a steep last imnnings ask quite comfortably, Vaughan’s first and last Edgbaston Test since 2005. Time moves on.

I just thought Warwickshire had Strauss sussed – nothing short to cut and pull, then Woakes provides the necessary for a square-cut – four.Next over Rankin’s first ball overpitched is driven by Cooke for another boundary, – of about 100 yards so close is the strip to the Pershore Road. Two more fours driven, off back and front foot, and the game has changed. Ten overs in, the ball has lost its initial shine, the bowlers are beginning to tire at the start of long hot day. Tahir for Woakes, but England should 100 + for none at lunch. According to The Birmingham Post Brum is falling apart at the seams (unlike the ball, which isn’t deviating off the straight.) Tata in talks with PM to save Land Rover Jaguar. the new Digbeth coach station contractors have gone bust, and a well-known city restauranteur faces the wall, which he doubtless has his back to. I’d tell you more, except I’ve mislaid the paper, if not lost the plot. Nothing in the ground seems affected by dire economic conditions – worst slump since the ’50s.  Ambrose doffs his cap to reveal he’s become a slap-head, and that’s about it for change in Warwickshire. Reassuring really. Tahir bowls a wide, the first extra of the innings, to bring up the fifty. Barlett who is zippy slingy, gets Strauss to edge rather than just miss, for second slip to spill the chance which third slip can’t reach before it kisses the turf. Strauss off-drives for four, the bowl just beating the fielder to the boundary – his straight-batted shots never sound quite right, you can hear the bottom hand wanting to come through, so there is none of that delicious late timing of an Alec Stewart, or indeed a Cooke. Ponting may well place a short mid-off to his opposing captain for the one that goes up in the air. Strauss edges going for Tahir, to be caught by Rikki Clarke,making amends for his earlier drop. Enter Bopara, who times the ball well from the off, a bit of a stockier Ponting without the quick nimble feet.

It’s halfway towards tea – and oddly for a belter of a day there’s been no drinks intervals – Cooke’s got his hundred, Bopara a decentish forty, caught going for an over-ambitious hook, while Piersen proded at Clarke for a dodgily run one. He presses early on in his innnings, rather than let the ball come to him, which Collingwood, a nurdler’s nurdler, does without thinking. Maybe there is a case for, as in the apostles, Paul going in ahead of Pieter (And according to gospel of Matthew, Prior should open?) Shame about KP. You could tell when he was at the wicket in Australia: his bat made a sound quite unlike every other English batsman. Cooke looks safer than the Bank of England, which may not be saying that much these days, and though he presses forward more these days (to forstall getting trapped on the crease) he still retaines the angularity of a classical technique.

Essex  Shoreline

Harwich, Frinton, Clacton,
Brightlingsea, West Mersea,
Maldon, Burnham, Southend.
From the scapula of the Stour
to the humerous of the Naze
and the Thames phalanges

 Alistair Cook
gets all Essex over the ball;
its coast the shape of his elbow
stretching across East Anglia.

Just after tea, England 232 for 5, Australia vs Young Lions 238 for 6, even stephens. Apart from Cooke no one’s capitalised on an easy pitch and a one-paced attack. At Worcester Katisch and Hussey have played themselves into some form. Flintoff could do the same, and you appreciate how big a bloke he is, the bat is a wooden spatula in his grip. No wonder he oversleeps, there’s so just much of him to wake up all at once. Prior’s out opened up by medium pacer Tahir, as Freddie races to 19. He looks the most technically correct English batsman so far, which could be worrying for both sides until he fishes for one from Tahir to give catching practice to Clarke at slip. We could be watching the bears bat before close of play.

Strauss declares eight wickets down, at 290,  not wishing to give Monty or Jimmy Anderson batting practice (we’re already stuffed if that’s de rigour) and Warwickshire are 31 for 1 at stumps. Anderson and Broad at least a yard quicker than the Warwickshire attack, but over half-a-dozen sprayed down the leg side leading to the 30 odd.

On the train back home we compare notes with those from Worcester. At stumps Aus 337 for 8 Hussey 143 n.o. but Harmison and Onions five wickets between them and fairly economical. In terms of sending coded messages over the Lickey Hills, the green baggies seemed to have edged it…

Political Consequences

Games before games are statements
of intent, demonstrations, fleet reviews,
salutes and salutations, rocket launchers
trundle across the square gleaming.

Results are less material than
intended intimidation of similarly
belligerent opposition – psychological
salvoes across the bows of alleged superiority,
puts whomsoever securely in their place.

Worcester and Warwick are baronial hosts
to sallys and jousts of national pride:
Hussey and Cooke rally their orders,
Ponting and Pietersen fail the task.
All incidental, like prime ministers’
question times each side of antipodean hustings
in election year, except volley and retort
are hard ball delivered at ninety miles an hour.

Anything else wouldn’t be cricket.