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…

England suffer final indignity as losing has become just part of the routine

The long plane journey from Australia to the UK is an energy-sapping haul at the best of times. Even ‘up front’ away from battery-hen class can be hard work. So imagine the endless tedium endured by England’s cricketers as they headed home, having to stew on the labelling as the worst team statistically from their homeland to ever tour Australia. The latest thumping in the Twenty20 form of the game at Sydney’s Olympic Stadium was the final indignity of a trip which had long ago turned sour.  Some were lucky to make an early escape – Kevin Pietersen and James Anderson were spared the humdrum of the 4-1 one-day verdict. Skipper Alistair Cook handed over the reins to Stuart Broad for the Twenty20 affairs. Broad and Joe Root have been here from the start when the Nottinghamshire quick was swiftly vilified by home fans and press in Brisbane. And Root seemed to have all the spirit drained from him the longer the excruciating sequence of losses went on.  It’s been a painful experience all round. As a supporter I’ve found it very hard to take in. It had come to point where I struggled to care. Twenty 20 with its hackneyed razamataz barely resembles cricket at times. But by the end I would have taken any form of diluted success. Yet the drubbings just went on and on. On Sunday I even gave Gabs permission to turn over from Channel 9 as more woe loomed for England in Sydney. To lose by a margin of 84 runs  in the closing instalment is a hiding in anybody’s language. So trying to fathom out what was going on in Natalie Portman’s head in the wacky film Black Swan seemed more entertaining than merely watching England throw wickets away in another futile run chase. I kept switching back during the ad breaks and trying to predict how many wickets England would have lost at those stages. I was unerringly spot on with my “three” and “six” time slots.  The exasperated commentators on Channel  9 were trying to keep their audience interested but, like England, they were fighting a losing battle.  And before England could finally get on the plane, the fallout from the tour from hell had claimed another high-profile victim with coach Andy Flower seemingly walking away from the wreckage. Who steps in now to try to engineer a revival is anybody’s guess, but the prospect of Ashley Giles hardly sets the excitement bells ringing.  Giles was an average Test player and prone to the odd bout of sulks when things didn’t go quite right. He does not really seem the answer.  Meanwhile,  I see Shane Warne has mischievously thrown his hat into the ring to do the job. Stranger things have happened. And at least he preaches the power of playing positive cricket.  Also, he knows the ins and outs of long airborne travel between Australia and England.  He may even take some fiendish delight in trying to get one over on his old rulers. Warnie has been dubbed the best player never to captain Australia due to various misdemeanours. Is it a far-fetched prospect or one that could snowball?  At least the soap opera of English cricket is never boring.  The Aussie fans have turned up in numbers to supplement the travelling Barmy Army and seem to have enjoyed watching England get hammered.  Stay tuned…

England pain complete as Ashes rout finishes with recurring nightmare

It feels like a case of deja-vu… It feels like a case of deja-vu… It feels like a case of deja-vu… Er, sorry but to borrow a line from a King Crimson song of the early Eighties: “I repeat myself when I am under stress.”  That’s what England’s Ashes humbling has done to me. Watching the final instalment of the implosion on Channel 9 from the SCG on only the scheduled third day, I almost knew what was coming next as the visitors’ brittle batting folded hopelessly again. You didn’t need to be a clairvoyant or a fatalist to see what the script would be, it’s been like this since Brisbane it seems. I was almost anaesthetised to the chaos by the closing throes. And so, to grab another chorus from the 1980s, “We’re glad it’s all over.”  That was Captain Sensible’s  lament.  But over it is. Over and out. I no longer have to suffer repeated viewings of Brad Haddin coming to the crease at number seven to save a listing Aussie ship from submerging in a first innings sea storm. And I no longer have to cringe as Mitch Johnson roars in to inflict more wicket-taking and physical pain on England’s increasingly disorientated batsmen. It’s been a truly galling sporting event with five grisly episodes. I tried to think of any corresponding  disasters down all the years of following Blackburn Rovers on the football field, Lancashire in the cricketing arena or English teams at both codes. Nothing really comes close. Past Ashes landslides were almost expected cos of the respective personnel. This was meant to be close. These Aussies are good but not great. But we have elevated them to greatness now. I had originally planned to travel to Brisbane, Melbourne and Sydney. Thankfully finances dictated otherwise, so my live traumas in the torture chamber were limited to four days on Adelaide Oval.  Yet back on that first day at the Gabba, it seemed that all was going well with England’s bowlers making inroads through the Aussie top order. Then in came Haddin. Rugged in demeanour with a hint of impishness, and by the end of the series, totally irritating. One rescue act after another. It just kept happening. To me, he was the man of the series because he gave Johnson  the platform to perform on after Australia had amassed formidable leads. If Mitch had not clicked, one of the other Aussie quicks could have done the damage anyway. Our fast bowlers could not answer in similar style, though Stuart Broad revved himself up in a few sessions. James Anderson looked plain tired, while in their brief appearances, Chris Tremlett and Boyd Rankin exuded all the menace of a pair of enormous, fluffy cuddly toys. As the series unfolded, the more everything paid off for the swaggering Aussies and the deeper the hole England found themselves in. There were notable victims along the way – Jonathan Trott (remember him?), a retiring Graeme Swann and a plummeting Matt Prior.  We all know the story so I don’t need to re-tell it. Now we just have to stomach as Aussie victory parade on the TV tomorrow. I think I might give that a miss. I still find the Aussies very uncouth warriors, even though they were so much superior in all facets. As the ever-avuncular and gracious Sir Bobby Robson said after a surprise win by his Newcastle United side over Arsene Wenger’s Arsenal at the old Highbury stadium just before Christmas 2001: “Arsenal need to learn how to lose.”  Sir Bobby was referring to the petulant “we woz robbed” ream of excuses that the Wenger regime can sometimes spit out. Even now… I feel that applies in reverse to Michael Clarke, the squeaky-voiced Aussie leader and his band of boorish victors. As the Aussies chirped out their childish ‘five-nil, five-nil ’ dirge on the SCG presentation stage, watching Aussie fan Phil Spence, of the Maylands parish, said: “There is a difference between winning in style and being a bunch of smart-alecs. They should save that crap for the dressing  room.” But at least one English supporter, Philippa Chadwick, due to fly back to the homeland this week, disagrees. “We dished it out to them pretty badly over, there,” she said. Oh well, maybe I missed it when I was back in and around London. I do remember getting a host of email jokes about Aussie cricket after their second Test cave-in at Lord’s though. “What is the difference between Michael Clarke and an undertaker?” was one question. “An undertaker doesn’t keep losing the ashes” Uh, uh, that simply doesn’t apply any more thanks to the mind-blowing reversal of fortunes.  And to reiterate just what Australia owes to that first Haddin intervention can be gauged from the view of my Aussie physio, Andrew Zealand. “Haddin didn’t just save the first Test, ‘ said Andrew. “He saved the series and the whole summer.” Andrew reckoned that if the Aussies had have gone down then, that would have been the start of a whole different story and the home crowds could have deserted a losing team. Remember, England did start the series as slight favourites and no pundits or ex-players, including Merv Hughes, were tipping a home series romp. Depending which version you listen to, Australia were quoted as anything from 66-1 to 100-1 at the bookies to achieve a 5-0 clean-sweep. So well played, Darren Lehmann and co. It’s been an astonishing turnaround. I’m still spinning. For all the wrong reasons. There’s still the one-dayers to look forward to. There’s still the one-dayers to look forward to. Oh, I forgot – I repeat myself when I am under stress.

Grumpiness sets in after ruthless Aussies regain Ashes

Oh well, 3-0 to the odious Aussies. In swift time too. Three Tests of total dominance. The Ashes are back down under. Fair dos to  ‘em, they have marmalised us in a manner that I didn’t see coming. So you have to say well done to Michael Clarke’s mob. They have brutalised us. But don’t expect me to like them. Any team with the obnoxious  David Warner in their ranks must stink. Even so, it’s laughing rights to them – with two Tests to go.  Things could even get worse. I admit I’m not very good at losing, but the Aussies are totally graceless at winning. Especially you-know-who. There he was on the telly giving Joe Root an “on your way” wave on his exit. It’s fair game from the seats but surely not from the middle. I wonder what the sadly absent Richie Benaud would have made of this total lack of style. Of course, Root is the player that Warner tried to stick a punch on in a Birmingham bar just a few months ago. That’s when England were winning Test matches. The change in fortunes has been mind-boggling. England suddenly look like a team in decline. James Anderson and Graeme Swann have been taken to the cleaners. Kevin Pietersen has been playing like, well, er, Kevin Pietersen.  It’s just that doesn’t seem to believe his own hype any more. Yet, if you tried to rein him in, he would never have taken on Brett Lee in that amazing blitz during the Oval Test of 2005 where England secured the Ashes after an enthralling summer.  So it’s on to Melbourne. What can England do? Well, Alistair Cook can try and win the toss for starters. It would be good to bat first instead of having to endure the irritating repetition of the first three Tests. The Aussies have clocked up massive scores – but only after England thrice ripped through their upper order then run into roadblocks in the form of Brad Haddin and co. It’s been bizarre.  But well done to Australia. I don’t feel like going on for too long cos I feel grumpiness setting in. Not everyone can lose with a smile. I remember a tale from 1966 when England were on the way to fortuitously beating the then West Germany 4-2 in the World Cup final at Wembley.  The great Scottish icon Denis Law was on a golf course somewhere at the time that the game was going on. Somebody on the course recognised him and said “Hey, Denis, why aren’t you watching the match?” As a proud Scot, he had assumed the worst result for him  would happen and replied coldly: “Why would I want to watch the bloody English win a World Cup?”  Enough said. At least I feel in regal company now.  I may not have been in Perth but why would I leave Channel 9 switched on to watch the cocky Aussies celebrate their overdue achievement?

Clash of Cultures fuels Ashes feud

Perhaps England’s embattled cricketers need to take note of Joe Strummer’s attitude towards visiting Australia if they are to steer their Ashes campaign back on track. When the late, great and much missed former Clash front man touched down in the plane bringing his iconic band for their first tour down under, he had no illusions about what he thought lay ahead. He reportedly approached the exit door of the aircraft with his fists clenched “ready for a fight.” He was prepared, but need not have worried. Joe got through customs and was accorded a warm reception. But such is the perception of Anglo-Australian relations, that expectations can become a little distorted. I first landed in Sydney in January 1984 and felt a little bit like Joe. A mixture of excitement  and trepidation. It was the day after Dennis Lillee, Rod Marsh and Greg Chappell had all played their final Test at the SCG against Pakistan. I had come here to this great southern land on a working holiday visa looking forward to sport and sunshine and whatever else. But as my plane descended through the blue skies and I saw all the red roofs of the red houses though the intense glare, I wondered what I would walk into in this city that appeared at first glance to be a cross between San Francisco and Manchester. After all, I did love beating this lot at cricket when England could manage it.  But like Mr Strummer, I was fine. Since those now distant days I have commuted between the two continents but still love England beating the Aussies on the cricket  field. So I reckon I know a thing or two about what makes both tribes tick. The first sight I beheld at the Mascot arrival lounge was a massive billboard promoting the Michael Parkinson show on Aussie TV. How weird… A Lancastrian arrives at the other side of the globe and is greeted by the grinning visage of an archetypal Yorkshireman. And in part, this instantly explains, in my eyes at least, Australia’s oddball stance over the UK. For one, they hate just about everything about us but at the other extreme can’t get enough of us. The TV screens and newspapers are full of stories about all events back in Blighty. They love Royalty – even though they pretend not to. Whereas I genuinely loathe the Queen and all her hangers-on. And yet if you travel in the other direction, you will struggle to pick up the merest morsel of news from Australia. The average Joe or Jane  walking down a street in Bolton or Bournemouth would not be the slightest bit interested in Australia. As Kevin Pietersen rightly said, winding up the natives before the first Test,  they would probably not even have heard of Brisbane or have a clue where the place was. And why should they?  All the standard Cockney, Geordie or Scouser would know about know about Oz is sunshine and “Neighbours”. Oh, and cricket. Which brings us back to where we started. So what has elevated the current Ashes conflict to new levels of fear and loathing? Well, for a start Australia have been losing. They don’t like that. And now back on their home turf, they want to start dishing out some overdue retribution.  And with plenty of flak along the way. And, as the Adelaide Test looms, so far they have made a pretty good job of it. The Brisbane massacre, the sledging furore and the sad departure of Jonathan Trott has the Aussies right where they want to be. Shame there hasn’t been much humour along the way. But as the great Wilpshire wisecrack artist Shaun Gill noted during  his nine-and-a-half illegal years chez Ultimo and Glebe in Sydney, Aussies “don’t do humour.”  Shaun reckoned that subtlety and irony was wasted on Aussies. “They just like to see someone hit with a plastic hammer on the head or with a custard pie across the face,’ he worked out. Certainly, the Monty Python team, now ready for a reunion, could never have come from Australia. So that’s why we should hope David Warner is given free rein with his dumb comments. Rather than get riled, just let him run with his inarticulate drivel.  With his past history, you have to ask if you would like this bloke as a mate, which is the ultimate social barometer  for Aussie males. And for me, too. Well, I don’t think I’d like to meet up with him down the pub. It’s a good job he’s a useful cricketer cos he hardly seems like a candidate to appear on “University Challenge’.  Just let him get on with it. The more he says, the more he seems as thick as a docker’s butty. The Aussie banter, both from the cricketers and media, has been spectacularly banal. Who needs Ron Burgundy when you have Karl Stevanovic on Channel Nine.  Even Matty Hayden comes across as some boor from the Bush. All hicks in an idyllic backwater still desperate to muscle up and pretend to be important on the global stage. Why bother? Just enjoy your great country. Don’t get involved. Chill out. But let’s be fair – James Anderson must have said something out of order to be on the end of riling cricket’s equivalent of David Beckham. The rout was virtually complete by then. Anyway, it’s Adelaide next. Maybe things will calm down. And perhaps England can turn things around. The Perth Test of 2010-11 ran a strangely similar course to Brisbane and all turned out well at Melbourne and Sydney. And last year in India, England produced an extraordinary backflip in form after a first-Test mauling. The Clash belted out “I’m so bored with the U.S.A.” in their early days. All very aggressive but tongue in cheek. I don’t suppose Joe and the lads were ever bored by Oz. It’s such fun here – especially when their cricketers keep opening their mouths. Anyway, stay tuned for more tales from behind enemy lines. And a pub survival guide to Adelaide.