Early sporting highlights on the horizon as 2015 moves into sight

We are easing through the closing stages of the in-between days. That’s what I refer to as the period after Christmas and before New Year. It’s a time for reflection and looking ahead and often it’s over-hyped and puts too much pressure on many folk. As John Lennon sang all those years ago: “And so this is Christmas and what have you done…” I always concentrated on Festive frolics at this time of year so my own favourite Yuletide ditty was the raucous line-up between Shane McGowan and Kirsty MacColl. Or as the inside of the card which arrived last week from Trawden’s Andy Turner advised: “Go mental with the mistletoe and dance to Slade like mad.” You still can’t go past the classic from Noddy Holder and the lads for an Xmas romp. From the same year, 1973, came a more sombre, wry summing-up from Greg Lake which played down the lofty expectations of this time of year. “The Christmas we get we deserve,’ observed the ELP man. It was always fun and sport for me at the time of the Northern winter solstice rather than religion and schmalz. There were some memorable Boxing Day encounters involving Blackburn Rovers. I always preferred to hit the road for the holiday games as it made for a big day out. I remember heading out over the Pennines in 1971 back in the dark period of Division Three existence for a clash with Halifax Town at the Shay. Dave Ellison’s dad Jimmy was at the wheel with Greg Hayes and me making up the carload. To say the Halifax ground was a dump in those days would be paying it a compliment. The average home crowds mustered little over a thousand. Yet the Rovers’ travelling hordes took it past 7,000. After a few ales in a working men’s club it was onto the ground to be shoehorned into some rickety stand known as the Cowshed. It was probably highly unsafe but exhilarating. “Do you realise we are sixth from bottom of Division Three,” mused Ivan Hickmott as he surveyed the scene. It made me realise what a traditional football-supporting town Blackburn actually was. There was a floodlight failure and giant man-mountain defender John McNamee bundled home Rovers’ goal for a 1-0 win which made for a happy trip home. Other year-ending epics for me were the manic win at Burnley in 1977 and the 1-0 home success over Newcastle United in 1996. The result over the Geordies went some way to exorcising the heartbreak of the recently departed Alan Shearer to Tyneside. It reminded me – and Shearer too, I suppose ‑- that there was still life at Ewood. The end of the year is also a time for looking forward. In that respect, what a shame that the FA Cup third round has mutated from one of the biggest days on the English footballing calendar to a virtual afterthought. No doubt the Premier League hot shots will be sending out under-strength teams as the creed of greed means they must concentrate on League points to ensure further excursions into Europe next season to garner more bottomless bundles of TV revenue. Rovers have been drawn at Charlton Athletic, so fingers crossed. And also there is the Asian Cup to look forward to on Australian soil. The pressure will be on coach Ange Postecoglou and the Socceroos so let’s see what they come up with. Life down under also means cricketing spectacles at the turn of the year. I’ve had ups and downs at the Melbourne Cricket Ground over time. I had to endure Shane Warne’s hat-trick on the 1994-95 Ashes Test but savoured sweet revenge on day one in 2010-11 when England openers Alastair Cook and Andrew Strauss eased past Australia’s paltry 98. This year has not been good with England’s pitiful conclusion to the Oz tour being followed Lancashire plummeting to instant relegation from Division One. That the title went to White Rose foes over in Yorkshire only added to the pain. The New Year heralds a cricketing jamboree in the form of the World Cup. Can England put up a decent showing or will there be more let-downs on the horizon? My gut feeling is not to get too excited. The temptation is to head to the MCG for England taking on Australia on February 14 in the tournament opener. But maybe I should simply settle for a more modest viewing schedule of England v Bangladesh in Adelaide in early March. History suggests we are quite capable of messing that one up in our own unique style. Whatever happens, the New Year is highly near with much sport to keep the masses enthralled. Before that it will be Hotel Wright Street with Paul Gurry spinning as the DJ playmaker. Merry 2015…

England’s schedule disrupted by Kevin Pietersen’s petty disclosures

England’s cricketers have plenty on their plates in the coming months. They visit Sri Lanka for a schedule of one-day encounters and arrive down under for the World Cup in the new year. After that, they jet off to the West Indies for a Test series, then there’s the little matter of a home Ashes showdown. So the last thing they need is to have their ambitions derailed by friendly fire. But that’s just what Kevin Pietersen seems to have done with the publication of his autobiography. The discarded maverick has cooked up a rare ol’ storm, slagging off his former colleagues left, right and centre. In the process he has been the subject of some stinging rebukes with every cricketer within sight having their say on Kev’s supposed exposes of a fractured dressing room and vicious cliques. If KP’s revelations are anywhere near the truth, no wonder England suffered a 5-0 pasting in the Ashes series of the last Aussie summer. But if the backroom was so rife with in-fighting, how did they ever manage three successive Ashes successes and rise to be the number one Test team in the world? There’s no denying that Pietersen is a special talent, but he seems to stir up spats wherever he goes. It’s like the joke about former BBC journalist Kate Aidie, who was always reporting from war zones – “That Kate Aidie, where-ever she goes, there’s trouble.” Right from KP’s junior days in his native South Africa through a falling-out at Nottinghamshire, then at Hampshire and rows with various England backroom figures and team-mates, it seems Kev could start a bust-up in an empty room. He was certainly under the cosh in Australia last summer when the natives were craving for revenge in the wake of numerous Ashes capitulations of their own. Every time Pietersen came to the crease, he was pressured because of the failings of the upper order. His carefree manner often came across as a “couldn’t care less” attitude. Such a shame. He wasn’t the only one to fall short. And such a shame that he may now be remembered as a disruptive influence and for the dirt he has dished out in his book. I guess Kev really just wanted to be liked. I remember watching on the box when he was starting out on his brief, ill-fated reign as England captain a few years ago. At the end of every over when England were in the field, Kev would be running round clapping his hands, patting bowlers and fielders on their behinds and generally yelling “C’mons” in all directions. It was like he was trying too hard. “Jeez, he’ll be knackered at this rate,” I remember thinking to myself. There are also other England players who don’t come across as being too edifying. Lancashire’s own James Anderson seems gentle as a teddy bear off the field but then gets into all kinds of strife when he walks across the boundary ropes. He’s not exactly best friends with Michael Clarke, had a set-to with the Indians at Lord’s last UK summer and has caused verbal commotions in a couple of Roses matches against Yorkshire in recent seasons. Stuart Broad survived a torrent of abuse from the Aussie media last time around but he isn’t even liked by some England fans because of his apparent aloof demeanour. Jim Chadwick, Rossendale cricket umpire and raconteur extraordinaire, routinely tells me that “if Broad walked down our street, I’d like to bloody hit him.” Straight talk as ever from Big Jim. But as everybody steps forward to speak out about KP – from Alastair Cook, Andrew Strauss, Matthew Hoggard, Anderson himself and countless other team-mates – the one voice I would find positively fascinating would be another perceived self-centred enigma from yesteryear, Geoff Boycott. The Tyke opener was as fastidious as KP was flamboyant, but they could both win Test matches for England. Boycott came from the wrong side of the Pennines for me, but I always wanted him to do well for England. He came back from his strange, self-imposed Test exile in the mid-Seventies and was better than ever. But I always got the impression that, like KP, he just wanted to be loved. If things had gone awry, I always worried that he could just pick up his bat and walk away again. Such prickly characters, these players of genius. Nowadays I always look for Geoff’s comments in London’s Daily Telegraph, my former place of work. My most bitter-sweet memory of Boycott during his playing days was one I missed – the Roses game of August 1975 at Headingley. And as fate would have it, Big Jim Chadwick was one of the characters involved. Along with Al Denby, we set off from Ramsgreave in Johnny Young’s car for the championship encounter. Naturally JY was running late. We went to Leeds via the scenic route through Skipton which took an age. Then a wasp entered through a window which caused the brakes to be slammed on and an impromptu evacuation of the vehicle. The wasp was eventually disposed of but time was ticking by. “We’re gonna miss the start,” I yelled at Johnny. “If Boycott’s out for a duck, I’ll kill you.” We arrived at the turnstiles to be told by a gloomy Tyke gateman that Yorkshire were batting and had slumped to 13 for four. And guess what? Boycott c Simmons, b Lever 0. Aye, the Yorkshire nemesis had duly gone for a duck. It would have been one of my greatest sporting moments. Alas, I had to watch it on the TV replays. Yes, Roses games were on the telly in those days. But when Boycs played for England, I just wanted him to score plenty. So I wonder what he would think of the Pietersen situation. Totally different personalities but kindred spirits. If Boycs doesn’t air his views, maybe I’ll just get on the phone to Big Jim this week and see what he thinks. Might be fun to hear…

Graeme Smith knows how Alastair Cook felt as he searches for swift solution

Now it’s Graeme Smith’s turn to try to fathom out a way of halting the refuelled Australian cricketing juggernaut. The South African captain has just a matter of days to revive his battered and bruised troops in time for the second Test in Port Elizabeth after the chastening capitulation at Centurion.   Destroyer-in-chief Mitchell Johnson proved he was not just a one-series wonder when he followed up his recent Ashes heroics with a blistering exhibition of pace bowling that left the hosts blinking in disbelief.  If the Proteas were caught unawares during their first Test unravelling, they should earlier have given England captain Alastair Cook a quick bell on his mobile before hostilities got underway. Then again, maybe Cook would not have wanted to relive the horrors of England’s harrowing tour down under so soon. The after-effects must still be numbing for him after Johnson had orchestrated the Ashes meltdown.  Now, here was the pumped-up  paceman doing it all again, bringing the world’s top-ranked Test team literally to its knees  as wickets were taken and heads were cracked amid a venomous barrage.  I tip my hat to the Aussies.  They strolled the Ashes in a 5-0 cakewalk but I had put that down to an ill-prepared, over-confident England sinking into a state of utter disrepair as much as the upbeat captaincy of Michael Clarke, plus Johnson and his pace cohorts. It looks like I was wrong and that they might be a better team than I imagined. Smith probably thought the same as me.  He won the toss and sent the Aussies in, with much anticipation.  But that was all Smith got right.  Johnson had him upside down, inside out and back to front as he bounced him out in the first innings. Smith delivered some brave words after the four-day defeat.  He said the trampoline qualities of the pitch had helped Johnson bag his 12-wicket haul. His men would regroup, he added. Smith even felt the result could have a wake-up effect on his charges. It all sounded eerily familiar. It was the same mantra that the browbeaten Cook had trotted out to no avail so recently. I hate to say it, but these Aussies might actually be the real deal. As they gather ominous momentum, everything they do seems to come off.  They have so many in-form batsmen that Shane Watson may not gain an instant recall for the second Test. And the luck keeps going their way.  Two outrageous catches stuck for Alex Doolan at short square leg while the hapless hosts managed to drop David Warner three times on the way to his century.  The man I love to loathe doesn’t even sound so brazen in his post-play comments. The South Africans had been sloppy in the field and deserved any derision that came their way. Maybe Warner really is growing up.  His comments were accurate and apt.  It’s another sign that the team that I loathe to love is zooming to the summit of world Test cricket.  Smith has also consoled himself with the fact that the track for the second Test will not contain the pace of Centurion, thereby neutering the threat of Johnson.  It will be akin to a flat surface in Adelaide, we are told. Yet look what happened to England on that Black Saturday at Adelaide Oval just a few weeks ago when Johnson ran amok. I was there, I saw it first-hand. Maybe in years to come I will say I was happy to witness such a piece of masterful fast bowling brutality.  I doubt it. For pace perfection, I would much rather recall Wasim Akram in his Lancashire days destroying Yorkshire at Old Trafford in a Roses clash in the 1990s. My bias and loyalty fails to mutate horror memories into sudden sweet “I was there” moments.  I was at the MCG in the 94-95 series when Shane Warne nabbed his hat-trick against England. That still hurts. At present, there seems to be no stopping Johnson. His fragile mind appears to be a symptom of long ago. However, Smith insists his Proteas have it within them to remind Johnson of those less bountiful times and turn things around. It should be another fascinating contest.  I’m chilled out in the neutral corner so can just recline, relax and take it all in.  Unlike the South African batsmen.  My sole regret is that the series is only scheduled for three Tests.  A five-Test confrontation would really sort out who was the boss.   Captain Smith must already feel it’s going to be a bumpy ride…

Merciful escape as Cook finally retreats from his traumatic Ashes tour

Alastair Cook must be relieved to be back in the cold and grey of an English winter. He can finally relax after escaping the furnace of a red-hot Australian summer.  His every move will not be scrutinised and monitored as he goes about his business back on Civvy Street, well away from the cricketing nightmare that he has just endured at the helm of a truly calamitous English tour. With the Ashes meekly surrendered during a Test series where everything that could have gone wrong, generally did, then a painful 4-1 loss in the one-dayers, he will be glad to escape.  What happens after this, who knows…  At least he will have time to reflect on his next move. Cook must wonder where it all went wrong. On the opening day of the first Test in Brisbane, his English side had seemingly done all the hard work with the Aussies labouring at 132 for six. Then came the Brad Haddin-Mitchell Johnson recovery act and it just seemed to happen over and over again. There was no let-up in the one-dayers.  How England managed to lose in Brisbane and Adelaide when they had things under control, is beyond me. It’s been a long, hard journey. And certainly one that nobody could have realistically predicted back in November.  To be a cricketing tourist on the wrong end of a hammering – no matter where you are – must seem like an endless  chore.  A few things have been brought home to me as I find myself halfway through a captivating autobiography written by another former England captain with choirboy looks and an elegant batting style. David Gower’s book was published in 1993 in tandem with Martin Johnson and it makes fascinating reading.  For starters, it brings home the fact that it is not the norm for an English Test team to be successful.  I must have air-brushed all the bad memories aside cos I had forgotten all the pain of the 1980s when as well as being humiliated by the West Indies when they ruled the cricketing universe, we had rough results against Australia.  Gower also recounts surprise hiccups against Pakistan and New Zealand during this topsy-turvy era.  I can only instantly remember the heady days of the 1985 Ashes triumph on home soil, where Gower played an intrinsic role, and the subsequent 1986-87 reverse success in Oz.  But you wonder how that ever happened because in Gower’ s tales, the tour seems a total fiasco. Yet somehow, England came though. After soaking up Gower’s book I suddenly feel that down the years, England don’t actually know how to channel a winning feel. It’s as if when a peak is scaled, it is “job done’. It happened in 2005 and now it’s happened again.  More realistically, par for the course seems defeat – often in ugly circumstances, followed by much inward recriminations as part of the blame game. Gower’s years at the top were in an England side that featured such legends as Graham Gooch, Ian Botham and Allan Lamb. But there seemed to be more bad times than good.  The 1989 Ashes series defeat in England – starting with the horrors of Headingley – was even more galling than this current shambles.  And in both case, the eventual one-sided outcome was totally  unexpected. So as captain Cook settles back on home soil, the one consolation he can have is that this has all happened before. Not much to feel cheered by, true, but it wasn’t all his fault.  There have been other victims along the way – notably Jonathan Trott and Graeme Swann.  And even Steve Finn was sent home for early rehabilitation after a non-playing role. It was like a wagon train struggling through hostile Indian territory with one victim being picked off at various stages by a horde of ruthless Comanches.  At least the retiring Swann has stood by his erstwhile skipper.  Swann reckons that he and his England team-mates were so “terrible” throughout this traumatic Test series, that nobody could have made a decent job of captaining such an under-performing bunch. Let’s hope better things are round the corner. Even in Gower’s years, the rollercoaster ride was always just that.

England seek solace as Sydney Test brings curtain down on shambolic tour

And so to Sydney… Merry 2014. It’s certainly been a miserable end to the year just finished with England’s jangled Ashes campaign reaching a new nadir thanks to the limp and clueless surrender at the MCG over Christmas. All the post-mortems are in and it must be said they seem to concur that this was the lowest of the low. The Saturday batting debacle left me almost catatonic for my evening at Adelaide’s Hotel Wright Street. I hope the players felt as bad as I did.  And the suffering wasn’t over.  The Sunday shambles in the field at least kept the incompetence consistent.  And we have managed to transform the run-of-the-mill off-spinner who doesn’t spin the ball, Nathan Lyon, into an apparent world-beater.  At the moment, England would struggle to beat Salesbury third XI. But it’s all over now, so let’s look ahead. Can there be solace of any kind at the SCG? Well. Alastair Cook might win the toss, which would be a good start. But apparently the track is well grassed so if Michael Clarke makes it five out of five, he might invite us to bat anyway. He did put Sri Lanka in last year in their Sydney encounter. It might be another torrid experience. I still can’t believe how quickly things have changed. It was only a few months ago that I was imbibing with some esteemed Aussie scribes in the Argyll Arms in London’s Oxford Circus after the visitors’ batting horror show at Lord’s.  The connection was via Ian Fuge, my great Arsenal-supporting mate who steers the ship of sport at the Sydney Morning Herald. The Aussie press corps were low – totally down in the dumps. “We will have to get used to this,’ said one. “This is how Ashes series are going to be for a long time ahead.” I nodded politely but was quietly looking forward to the thought. How wrong we all were in our musings. The same writers are now having a field day rubbing in England’s hurting. Fair play to ‘em – grab it while you can. At least the English fans should try and enjoy the Sydney setting. The SCG is my favourite Aussie cricket ground. It’s just the right size and has the ambience to still offer a “big stadium’ feel. I always felt the gush about Adelaide Oval was over the top. It was more higgledy-piggledy than picturesque to me. Not that I have a degree in Architecture.  And the MCG is just too big. You can have 45.000 fans in there and it feels like there is no-one watching. The SCG is just right, though I believe it is suffering redevelopment hassles as well. But the location offers up ample pub opportunities. From the trendy watering holes of Paddington – the London Tavern and the Paddington Inn – to the equally accessible stopping-off points via Surry Hills. Is the Cricketers Arms still going?  And you can walk from the city centre without getting thirsty. Enjoy the occasion. Let’s pray for a sudden England turnaround. I know I have been saying that since the Gabba, but you can only live in hope.

England face tough task as pacey Perth track lies ahead

So now it’s the perilous journey to Perth that lies ahead for Alistair Cook’s beleaguered tourists. Even the most rabid of England fans must be finding it difficult to find a way back with the team 2-0 down and seemingly set for another torrid encounter in the pace-friendly track out west. If the ever-menacing Mitchell Johnson can cause such havoc on a supposedly bland drop-in track at Adelaide Oval, who knows what terrors may lie ahead on his adopted WACA lair. It’s still hard to fathom what has happened in the first two Tests. For me, it’s been a bit of a blur. And a  very disheartening one.  After all, England started this series as favourites, if narrow ones in my opinion. And after the first days in Brisbane and Adelaide, it could be argued that England held   the slight advantage in both games. Only to be blown away by Mitchell Johnson. Mitchell who?  Surely not that figure of fun from previous Ashes contests who was mocked mercilessly by the England fans and at times couldn’t even direct the ball onto the shaven part of the pitch. Yes, that same clown who has somehow transformed himself into a one-man hit squad. He can’t bowl from both ends but he is having the same effect, with the other bowlers feeding off his influence.  I have witnessed previous England capitulations over here, notably from Michael Atherton and Nasser Hussain’s teams. And when “Freddie’  Flintoff presided over the 5-0 whitewash in 2006-07, it was almost unbearable. But in some ways this could be worse. I don’t particularly care for Jonathan Agnew’s posh tones on the ABC radio but then again, that’s cos I’m an inverted snob. If you don’t have Newcastle Brown Ale on your cornflakes in the morning, I’d probably be suspicious. Yet “Aggers” makes the very valid point that at least on those occasions, England were expected to lose. This time it feels like we have walked into an ambush.  It was only a few months ago that some English writer back in London was gobbing on about how he wanted Australia to win the second Test at Lord’s “to make a contest of it.”  Just because England had won at Trent Bridge. What piffle. Us English, eh! We don’t even know how to win. I wanted to slaughter the bloody Aussies, cos in sport, you never know what lies around the corner.   You have to enjoy the good times cos summat bad can be lurking unannounced. And that is what has happened.  I have no time for the “jolly good show, old chap” pretence. As Johnson was meting out his carnage in our first innings and I had to watch, stood up in the Southern Stand of the Adelaide Oval, I admit I hated it. I squirmed. I suffered. In complete silence, with my radio in my ear. No applause from me. Just sodding dejection as the English misery piled up right in front of me. I wondered whether that oafish aforementioned writer, perhaps watching back in London on the telly, was enjoying the “contest” now. Points of consolation? Well the Cooper’s Pale proved a hit with my visiting English mates as I had predicted. Shame that Alan from Tamworth was out of action after the third day cos of sunstroke from a day on the Hill. And the English support, was sensational as usual, albeit in a losing cause. Even as the last rites were being administered on the morning of day five, the only noise seemed to be coming from the English hordes on the grassy bank of the Hill. Michael Clarke must have been joking when he thanked the Australian “support” which was as  subdued as ever.  It backed up the Brisbane let-down when the ABC radio crew were bemoaning the lack of support as the Aussies zeroed in on an overdue win. They could  not believe that there were only 11,000 at the Gabba, with half of those probably English followers. Anyway, maybe some Aussies will sing in Perth. I dunno where England can go from here. It’s gonna be baking hot too. We just have to show some ticker and try to carry Johnson back in Dr Who’s tardis to the time zone when he was hopeless.  But Cook looks in a jangled state of confusion, even if Ian Bell appears unflustered. And Kevin Pietersen doesn’t seem to believe in his own swagger any more. It’s gonna be a titanic task but let’s try to give the suddenly smirking Aussies something to think about.