Commentary

A bit of chat around the bat

Good things come to the crease in small packages

~ Liam Cromar ~ 2 Comments

James Taylor’s demolition of Ryan Sidebottom in the Yorkshire vs. Nottinghamshire T20 provided an opportunity to savour one of the most delectable sights in cricket: that of a diminutive batsman dominating a big fast bowler. 1.68m (5′7″) took down 1.91m (6′4″).

Well-built batsmen such as Andrew Flintoff (1.93m) or Alex Hales (1.96m), of course, always raise the excitement levels, and thrill audiences as they dominate attacks. Yet somehow there is an inverse correlation between stature and impressiveness: the smaller the figure, the greater the delight.

Why are pint-sized players so pleasing to watch? One reason could be that due to the lack of inherent momentum provided by weight, smaller players are forced to develop traditional, classical skills, relying on pure timing rather than brute strength. It has been observed that this currently holds true to an extent in the women’s game; the suggestion is that while the men’s game can cut corners due to higher strength levels, the women’s game remains a superior showcase of traditional cricketing technique. As fitness and strength levels increase in the women’s game, it will be interesting to see how long this holds true.

Going back to the man’s game, it’s striking how short players often not only have style, but also substance. Looking at the 11 batsmen that have over 10000 Test runs as of 2014, height seems to be a rarity. (Heights are sourced from the Internet, and are presented with a low degree of confidence.)

Player Test runs Height (m)
SR Tendulkar 15921 1.65
RT Ponting 13378 1.78
JH Kallis 13289 1.88
R Dravid 13288 1.80
KC Sangakkara 11983 1.78
BC Lara 11953 1.73
DPMD Jayawardene 11814 1.73
S Chanderpaul 11414 1.73
AR Border 11174 1.75
SR Waugh 10927 1.78
SM Gavaskar 10122 1.65
Don Bradman 6996 1.70

Kallis, at 1.88m, the outlier, or perhaps the high flier, is the only one of the XI to breach the 6-foot barrier. Dravid, Ponting, and Sangakkara, at 1.80, 1.78, and 1.78 respectively, would be perceived, at least by a British eye, to be of average height. Lara and Tendulkar, arguably the most consistently stylish batsmen in modern cricket history (how that is defined is another story; Chris Smith at Declaration Game debates this in some detail), clock in at just 1.73m and 1.65m. As twelfth man, Don Bradman slots in between Lara and Tendulkar at 1.70m.

What does this mean? Not much. There is a danger, of course, in selectively choosing examples to support a hypothesis, and this is by no means a scientific analysis. We’re looking, after all, at what makes a small batsman so appealing from our subjective viewpoint. All this does is suggest that small stature might increase the chances of piling up over 10000 career Test runs. Perhaps smaller frames, possibly being lighter, place less strain on the limbs, and thus reduce the likelihood of major injuries, allowing longer careers. Ideally we could do with a Style Index to authoritatively rank players on the attractiveness of their play. There’s an idea for Statsguru.

It may be that our delight in watching small players perform is down to a simpler reason. Perhaps it is because it seems so unexpected, so contrary to the course of nature. When an obviously muscular player comes out to bat, we expect the ball to go flying out of the park. By contrast, when a small figure appears, we subconsciously doubt his ability to do the deed. Our fears and expectations are confounded. We relish David slaying his Goliath.

AOTM July 2014: How we misunderstand risk in sport, by Ed Smith

Quote ~ ~ Liam Cromar ~ Leave a comment

We say that winning “justified the decision”, a classic failure to distinguish between ex ante and ex poste thinking. Instead, the real question should be: would I do the same thing again, given the information I had at the time? Coaches and captains often make the right calls and lose. And they often make the wrong calls and win.

The prestigious Raging Turner Article of the Month award for July 2014 goes to Ed Smith, for his ESPNCricinfo article How we misunderstand risk in sport. Smith challenges our common, clichéd views, including, for instance,  failing to appreciate that the right decision can lead to the undesirable outcome.

History, therefore, applies when the events described cannot readily be made sense of; or, the interpretation of those events through the lense of contemporary assumptions would create serious misunderstandings. […] I would argue that the results and the action from the past 100-130 years are clear enough to the modern viewer so as to not require the intervention of an historian.

Highly Commended: If the past is a foreign country, cricket’s history is an overseas tour, by Chris Smith, who debates what constitutes cricket history; is there less history than we realise?

DRS: power to the players, not the umpires

~ Liam Cromar ~ Leave a comment

The pitch at Trent Bridge was so lifeless that it almost succeeded in even deadening the interminable drone about DRS that always seems to accompany any high-profile series. With England—India, though, DRS is always a handy fallback topic, thanks to the BCCI’s continued intransigence on the subject. N Srinivasan stated in December 2012 that “We don’t believe the technology is good enough”. With the increased powers that the BCCI has in the ICC, the cry of the casual, unsuspecting fan on Twitter that the ICC should force the BCCI to accept DRS is laughable.

Nevertheless, there is some talk that India may be coming round to the idea, although naturally not officially. The BCCI’s increased power may, curiously, encourage them to engage in some goodwill gestures. They now have the money; they can afford to be generous, and bask in the glow of their magnanimous actions. We’re not “a bully”: look at how reasonable we are in being willing to listen and yield to the rest of the ICC on DRS.

A key point is that accuracy of ball-tracking has improved drastically since its inception. Mike Selvey, a self-described sceptic, has been won over by this. Martin Crowe, who expresses the opposing view well, has not.

Both Crowe and Selvey suggest, however, the possibility of beneficial changes to DRS. Crowe is unconvinced of the accuracy of the predictive path, and would prefer abandoning that part of the system. Selvey, by contrast, is impressed with the apparent accuracy of current technology, and toys with the possibility of taking the DRS away from the players and into the hands of the third umpire. Furthermore, it has been suggested that this may provide the BCCI with a way to save face, should they feel it necessary.

Those who view a player-initiated review as essentially a whitewashed form of dissent may welcome a removal of such power from the player. I am afraid, though, I do not share Selvey’s view that moving the power to review from players to the third umpire “has some merit.” I view it as a terrible idea, for at least three reasons.

1. Umpires would have no function in LBW decisions

If the third umpire were to check every LBW decision, there would be absolutely no point to the on-field umpires even knowing the LBW law. You would have the curious situation wherein the umpires standing in domestic first-class cricket would need greater skills than those in the international game.

2. The game would run even slower

We already see virtually every run-out decision referred to the TV umpire. This is an acceptable use of time, since they are relatively rare, happening perhaps once every few hours. Yet LBWs are inherently much trickier to judge, so in due course, in an attempt to avoid criticism, on-field umpires would end up referring all but the most blatantly obvious LBW appeals.

Over rates, already low, would worsen, as the game stops every time the ball hits the pads, for the third umpire to confirm that it was, indeed, not out, on most occasions. Test cricket does not need any further reduction in pace: quite the opposite.

3. Player dissent would increase

Let us suppose that, in order to mitigate the above two disadvantages, the system is set up so that not every decision is referred; rather, the on-field umpire can choose whether to refer it or not. The result? Players will simply attempt to coerce the umpire into referring decisions that they think are borderline. (I have a recollection that trials of this system yielded precisely that outcome, but have been unable to find the details.)

In a slightly different set-up, during 2012 a third-umpire intervention system was tested out in Australia, with the TV umpire having the power to overrule a decision if he considered it controversial. It was scrapped mid-season, with the players unhappy with what was perceived as inconsistency and confusion over its application. Daniel Brettig reported that players would hang around on the field, hoping for an overrule, which had a knock-on impact on the rhythm of the game.

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We come back to what the DRS is intended to remedy: the “howler”. Selvey rightly asks how one is supposed to differentiate between a howler and a non-howler. Where does one draw the line? Selvey sensibly indicates the absurdity of attempting to decide which decisions players may or may not review, on the basis of a sort of volume of howl. Players should be allowed to squander their reviews. Yet this does not mean that the third umpire should be given the option of overruling, as discussed. Players should be miserly with their reviews, and only use them up if they genuinely believe a blatant error has been made. Any blame for a poor decision thus remains on the players, not the umpires. Crowe goes so far as to call for the number of challenges in Tests to be reduced from two to one.

In conclusion, however, Selvey’s article made me reconsider one point that I have previously been pretty firm on: the question of whether an “umpire’s call” verdict should use up a player’s review. As it happens, I am still of the opinion that it should. Yet Selvey’s experience indicates that the margin of error is much less than I envisaged, down to about one millimetre. This suggests that “umpire’s call” verdicts are much less doubtful than might be thought: a clip of a bail is still a clip.

If the corresponding uncertainty has therefore been reduced, one of two things should be done: either 1) leave the system as it is, but dramatically reduce the yellow “umpire’s call” zone to reflect the actual accuracy of the projection, or 2) allow teams to re-use their review, since their referral has been shown to be justified. I would opt for the former. To do so, however, requires confidence in the accuracy really being as high as the manufacturers, hardly disinterested parties, claim it is. Stringent, transparent, independent verification is needed for confidence in the system.

It remains to be seen what the BCCI will do, if anything, as regards DRS. As stated earlier, there may be little political need for them to change. In search of good PR, though, we might see them make a popular decision.