If popular hype of the sort that cricket journalists must light-headedly think up on their way to brew a coffee or have a drink with the mates is to believed, ODIs have been dying a slow, systematic and painful death for close to a decade now. Another nail in the alleged coffin of the “ugly sister” of the format trio was slammed in earlier this week, when the ever-inventive Australian cricket board announced its plans to change the ODI to a 40-over, two-innings format that will apparently kill off what is considered the “slow” middle-over stage of the format.
To be honest I find this news rather horrible, and I suspect a slight majority of cricket fans agree. It’s true that ODIs don’t attract near the number of crowds they used to back in the nineties, that golden age of garish uniforms, pinch-hitters and dibbly-dobblers, but I don’t think it’s got a thing to do with the format, but with the numbers of matches played. Personally, I may doze through the session of a context-filled Test or yawn off yet another hit-and-giggle Twenty20, the 50-over game is one that I always regret missing.
Of course, the death of the 5o-over format has been predicted for a long time now. Respected Cricinfo English editor Andrew Miller has been predicting the death of the format for some years now. He doesn’t like it, quite frankly, believing it to be formulaic and lack all the drama, subplots, and scope for change that can be afforded in a typical Test. I’m not too sure about that, personally.
You see, Mr Miller, one of the world’s most passionate and respected cricket reporters though he may be, has a habit of interpreting his own opinions as common public knowledge. As early as 2004, a year after Twenty20 had been introduced to first-class cricket, he was calling for the scrapping of the format because it clogged up the calendar and because, quite frankly, he didn’t like it. In 2007 he reacted to a rare England ODI series win abroad (in Sri Lanka) with the probably not wholly truthful assertion that England “should finally crack 50-over cricket at precisely the moment that the rest of the world is tiring of it.” Really, Mr. Miller? And what world would that be? A few Twenty20 honkers jumping on the World Twenty20 bandwagon? A handful of MCC members bored stiff with England’s overstated history of 50-over monotony?
Make no mistake, if the 50-over format goes with it will dissipate the interest of hundreds of cricket fans. Not the hit-and-giggle attention-deficient pseudofans that writers are so quick to bag, either. The fact is that thousands of cricket followers have been drawn to cricket, in all its formats, by the alleged joke that is ODI cricket. It may lack Test cricket’s sublime subplots–but it can come bloody close; it may lack the convenient zip of a Twenty20 encounter–but it has its moments. Precisely what evidence is there that ODI cricket is jaded and dying? A handful of matches with small crowds? In that case Test cricket–unmistakably the pinnacle of the game–would have been eulogized in the subcontinent years ago.
Of course the number of ODIs should be cut down on. The seven-match series is a money-making joke, there have been a few triangular tournaments (think VB Series, Natwest Series and Challenges galore) too many. The 2007 calendar year was a particularly gluttonous one, with a whopping 191 ODIs–bureaucratic greed at its best. No wonder fans accepted Twenty20 cricket with particular regard to its one-dimensional nature; no wonder even respected publications like Wisden were moved to hail the IPL (a sham thankfully exposed) as a world-moving revolution. Too much of anything is a bad thing; my bet is that a glut of Twenty20s will see interest die far sooner than at any point in ODI history.
And what is with the needless innovations? Why are cricket administrators so eager to strangulate their existing fanbase? Why 40 overs, for instance, when 50 is a tried and true method? Michael Hussey, a batsman who can veer at any end of the tempo spectrum, is not impressed with it, saying, “I’m really keen to stick with the 50-over format. It is a lot different. That extra 10 overs is a lot different in the way you go about the game and I’d like to see us stick to the 50-over format.”
Hussey, modern-day cricket’s answer to Harry Houdini and Michael Bevan, has a point. And forget just 40-over cricket–what about the frankly laughable notion that four innings of 20-25 overs a day will pass off as an ODI? Might as well watch two Twenty20s in a day. What’s the break for, CA, more time to fry a shrimp on the barbie or however that goes?
Then there’s the accusation that it’s formulaic. What exactly is wrong with a touch of formula–for ODI cricket features no more that–is a question that needs answering before we all start getting bored with the formula of reverse-swing with an old ball, or spinners actually trying to flight the ball.
There is, of course, a general formula. It can twist and change a bit depending on conditions, or it can stay the same. People accuse the middle overs of being dull as batsmen look to consolidate a position of attack. Of course, if Michael Atherton is wearing whites while nudging and blocking the cover off the ball, it’s “thrilling Test cricket”. Just as Tests have their place, so do ODIs–just cut down on the number.
As I’m getting a bit heated here, let me give a personal view. In years of watching Pakistan cricket I have woken either side of 9:24, sat rooted to the TV (with the occasional break to hunt for food), and salivated at a prospect vying between hopefulness and realism. The openers bat like nine-year-olds; any three (and occasionally four) of Mohammad Yousuf, Inzamam-ul-Haq, Shoaib Malik and Younus Khan steer Pakistan to a steady position with dinky dabs, meaty drives and the customary running mixup, Shahid Afridi comes in and chugs the momentum either his or the enemy’s way, while Moin Khan, Abdul Razzaq and Azhar Mahmood blast exactly 73 runs off the seven last overs in a spectacular whirl of swipes, slogs and hell-for-leather run-outs. Then Pakistan bowl, with Shoaib Akhtar leaking batsmen’s blood, runs, or both, Mohammad Aamer bowling seven bouncy and sharp overs, Rana Naved-ul-Hasan chipping in with his unique brand of 5-0-41-3, while Saqlain Mushtaq and/or Saeed Ajmal probe away before the allrounders come on and the fast bowlers return for a last burst, hopefully but not necessarily a matchwinning one. Also, lots and lots of dropped catches, particularly if Kamran Akmal is keeping. It’s a fluctuating and occasionally exasperating formula, but what the hell, it works. And when it doesn’t–well, change is, if CA is to be believed, good. Right?
Nor is it a brand unique to Pakistan; every country has a unique approach to ODI cricket that can neither be found in Twenty20s or in Tests. Sri Lanka: a Jayasuriya bash-fest, a cultured middle-overs display by Sangakkara and Jayawardene, and a bit of late fun for the increasing tally of seam-bowling allrounders; then swing out the opposing openers with cutters at a medium-fast pace before the spinners come on and tighten the noose. New Zealand: field a team weak on paper, and always field first. Then bring on Bondy and Southee, an impeccable ten-over spell by Daniel Vettori with a bit of dibbly-dobbling for old times’ sake. Then have McCullum, Ryder and Guptill go berserk before an inevitable mid-life crisis rescued by Vettori and Oram. The script may be slightly different; the players and their composition almost constantly varying, especially with little tweaks like the Powerplays. But it’s a beautiful formula, and has far more room for variance than the pathetic new model.
One point put forward by the spanner-mixers is that the new format allows both teams the same conditions, thereby devaluing the toss. But seriously–apart from the Premadasa Stadium and a few dew-ridden matches, is the toss all that important? Are even day-nighters, which constantly affect the conditions, all that important–what happened to the days when a day-night match was a special treat, not a 4 out of 5 repetition stuffed down the throat? There are so many ways to address whatever problems there are with ODIs without scrapping the formula–why try the easiest way, the one that will almost certainly alienate half the fanbase, so readily?
As Osman Samiuddin, Cricinfo’s Pakistan editor, so eloquently put it, a twenty-over innings “doesn’t allow, say, a batsman to resurrect an innings, they don’t allow for a calculated heist… You can chase intelligently in T20s for sure, but the whole thing of seeing someone rebuild a tattered innings, with a cautious, but still urgent, hundred–I like that. And for bowlers - I love the fact that [a bowler] can go through a ten-over spell on a good pitch - a proper, thorough display of his full talent with new and old ball which you might not see in a T20.”
Quite simply, 50-over cricket as it is has more room for skill and variation than any form of cricket bar Tests; it has more fans on a constant basis than either Twenty20s or Tests, because it represents a fitting medium. For too long we were told that it was mindless “fast-food” cricket; now we’re being told it’s not fast-food enough. The only problem is the number of matches, and perhaps the absurdly flat decks seen worldwide nowadays. Tinkering dramatically with the formula, as CA are trying to do, will merely rob a wonderful contest of a legion of supporters. If you don’t believe that, check the feedback on Cricinfo’s comments page; though with their history of conveniently shunning the fans, neither the administrators nor the reporters will be moved to do that.
