Chris Read: the next England captain?

If it were awarded by a Twitter vote (“FAVE for Cook / RT for Bell”), there would be no question that Alastair Cook would not retain the England captaincy. Give it to Bell, is the popular cry. Hand it to Root, is the refrain of a smaller contingent.

Cook, of course, is safe, at least for the moment. The ECB have invested too much to discard him, and his determination, one of his positive leadership qualities, will prevent any imminent resignation: he will continue, for better or worse. We should, at least, be grateful that there is some consistency in assigning the captaincy these days, unlike in previous decades.

Meanwhile the natives are restless. Twitter citizens will continue to trumpet the perceived merits of Bell, Root, and even Broad.

There is, however, one name that has been largely absent from such speculations: Chris Read. A name that was mentioned more than once in the build up as a possible replacement keeper for Prior. But captain? Surely that’s a bridge too far.

It is, admittedly. The ECB have moved on from the days of parachuting in experience, preferring to train and nurture younger players on the job: an approach that, by and large, has been successful. Introducing a player knocking on the door of 36, more than seven years after his last Test, would smack of desperation on the part of the ECB: anathema to their current PR policy of ‘nothing to see here’.

Yet Chris Read’s appointment wouldn’t be as mad as it might first seem. These are unusual times. England have a uncommonly inexperienced team. Aside from Cook and Bell, none of the top 6 have played twenty Tests, and three have played fewer than five.

Firstly, Read now has tremendous experience as a county captain. Despite having received what many might consider a raw deal from England, considering his obvious talent, he has proven himself a tough individual who can cope with life’s knocks. After being essentially discarded by the national team in the aftermath of the calamitous 2006-2007 whitewash, he applied himself to his performances at Nottinghamshire, with great success. In 2010, he guided Nottinghamshire to the Championship title, which led him to the accolade of being named a Wisden Cricketer of the Year. At the same time, his batting, regarded as a weak point, grew stronger, to the point where his first-class average from 2009 to 2013 is a healthy 38.45. Incidentally, Matt Prior, the incumbent, only averaged 35.70 in the same period.

Secondly, he would have little pressure to perform with the bat. He would come into a strong England batting line-up, where his main contribution would be expected to be with the gloves, not the bat. At the same time, he’d give England the chance of some feistiness at No. 7, which they have grown accustomed to from Matt Prior. Yet any runs he scored would be a bonus, not the measure by which his success would be judged. Unlike Cook, he wouldn’t need to be concerned about having to lead by example with the bat. With England batting deep, he could even drop down to No. 8 or 9, and give some lower-order stability.

Thirdly, he would have both knowledge of and, one would hope, backing from a key senior player: his Nottinghamshire teammate, Stuart Broad. Broad is not renowned – perhaps unfairly – for being easy to manage. Not only would Read know how to get the best out of him, but additionally a Read-Broad combination as captain and vice-captain could provide a strong axis around which the team could revolve and be steered. Keeper, strike bowler, batsman: with their joint experience of the key roles, together they could gain the feel for conditions that is so important for on-the-field tactics.

Chris Read won’t be given the chance to do any of this. England are looking firmly ahead, and who can blame them, with talent such as Buttler’s waiting in the wings? Read will therefore not get into, even just as keeper rather than captain, what is currently a mediocre international side. Funnily enough, though, he will get into a dream team. Tomorrow he’ll walk out at Lord’s to take his place in a stellar line-up: keeping for Brett Lee and Saeed Ajmal, batting in the same order as Brian Lara and Rahul Dravid, and working with some guy called Tendulkar.

It may be the last time he gets to show off his skills to the cricketing world at large. England’s loss may be MCC’s gain – just as it’s been Nottinghamshire’s.

Cricket as classical music

Chris Smith over at The Declaration Game has an enjoyable piece comparing the experiences that newcomers to the world of classical music share with those to the world of cricket. It’s an interesting read, especially considering that both worlds are, rightly or wrongly, often viewed as being elitist, old-fashioned, snobby, or incomprehensible. Chris segues into a discussion of what commentators do, or refrain from doing, in order to facilitate entry for the uninitiated.

That aside, I fancied riffing on the idea of pairing classical music with cricket. Which musical form best pictures each format? Here’s my variation on Chris’s theme. Don’t take it too seriously: the parallels are slight.

Test Cricket is an oratorio: lengthy, dramatic, and often retelling history that is sacred in the eyes of its enthusiasts. Not the easiest jumping-off point for a newcomer, but may well have iconic and highly memorable sections, revered for years afterwards: see, for example, track 42 below.

</span>http://open.spotify.com/album/70Qakvnp3j7LpOlW4RVlhs

ODI cricket is a concerto, made up of contrasting passages, some of which may be more or less compelling than others, but all of which contribute to the overall fabric of the work. It’s not unusual to have a bright start, followed by a slower-paced section, and a lively conclusion.

</span>http://open.spotify.com/user/liamcromar/playlist/3nyIdUIIzYJN3TtUPVGRzY

I’m tempted to say that T20 is film music: it masquerades as something classic, appears initially similar, but you soon realise it’s just the same theme, repeated endlessly, hammering itself into your consciousness. Yet that isn’t fair, and doesn’t reflect my real opinions of both T20 and film music: both can be greatly enjoyable. It would be kinder to call it a scherzo, a piece that is nominally playful, but can easily be deadly serious. It’s robust enough to stand on its own without any surrounding movements or context.

</span>http://open.spotify.com/track/2Oln8DCTPLhJkT319TClrd

On a slightly more serious note, Chris’s discussion of catering for less-knowledgeable viewers sparked my recollection of another cricket-and-classical-music pairing, although one admittedly tenuously connected with the current subject. Claire Taylor, one of the Wisden Cricketers of The Year in 2009, is a violinist with the Aldworth Philharmonic Orchestra. The APO run a scheme that allows anyone who hasn’t ever heard a live orchestra to receive a free ticket.

Could a similar scheme work in cricket? I don’t know how it could practically be administered to prevent abuse. The Aldworth Philharmonic Orchestra appears to rely on the honesty of its guests. I doubt this would work on a large scale in cricket, without resorting to recording details of who has used the scheme and checking ID; too onerous, one would think, for the average county cricket club. Yet the benefits would be similar: a whole new world could potentially be opened up for the newcomer. Hearing a live orchestra is light years away from listening to Classic FM. Attending a cricket match in person is nothing like watching it on TV. Not that there’s any live cricket these days on free-to-air TV for your casual UK viewer. It may come down to a shootout between Classic FM and TMS.

Remove the Penalty Runs signals from the attack

How many of the 14 umpiring signals can you name and recognise? Some are certainly more familiar than others. Top of the list is probably “out” – “raising an index finger above the head”. Next in line would be the boundary signals: “boundary four” being “waving an arm from side to side finishing with the arm across the chest” and “boundary six” being “raising both arms above the head.” These are familiar to even those with only a casual acquaintance with the game.

Next would come those familiar only to those with some knowledge of the game, including such gestures as “no ball” (“extending one arm horizontally”) and “bye” (“raising an open hand above the head”). Even signals such as “revoke” (“touching both shoulders, each with last signal the opposite hand”) are becoming more familiar, thanks to DRS. However, even amongst players, it’s surprising how some are unfamiliar with the signals, let alone the underlying laws.

At the bottom of the list in Law 3.14 come the rarely seen signals such as “new ball” (“holding the ball above the head”) and “short run” (“bending one arm upwards and touching the nearer shoulder with the tips of the fingers”). Considering that the occasions on which players would see these are few and far between, it’s excusable for your average player not to know them.

Scorers, of course, have to recognise all the signals, as their recognition or non-recognition may have a direct impact on the result – a short run missed, for instance, could turn a tie into a loss.

There are, however, two particularly troublesome signals that I wish to criticise. These are the signals for five penalty runs awarded to the batting and fielding sides respectively. To illustrate my point, can you, without checking, state what these are?

I’ll even give you the definitions for the two maddeningly similar signals:

  • “placing one hand on the opposite shoulder”
  • “repeated tapping of one shoulder with the opposite hand”

Can you determine, without simply guessing at random, which means the runs are awarded to the batting side, and which to the fielding side?

As far as I can see, there’s nothing that obviously associates either gesture with either team. The closest I’ve got is that “repeated tapping” might suggest hitting an object, and so could be loosely tied to the batting team. Weak as that may be, it’s better than the “placing one hand” on the shoulder that indicates awarding runs to the fielding side. Perhaps placing the hand around the ball of the shoulder could be reminiscent of gripping a cricket ball. Unfortunately, this could easily instead suggest ball-tampering, thus giving exactly the wrong idea of who the runs should be awarded to.
By contrast, several of the more common signals have a good match with the real world. It doesn’t take a genius to see, for instance, how waving a hand translates to “bye”. Even slightly more obscure ones like “boundary four” can be interpreted as the action for sweeping or pulling a ball to the boundary.

If a missed short run could alter a match result, then it’s clear that awarding 5 runs to the wrong team could have an even greater impact, leading to a 10-run error. Theoretically the scorers should check with the umpires; however, in real-life situations, things don’t always work out that way.

At this point I’d like to bring in some concepts from a field more associated with technology, that of usability. We can regard the umpire signalling as a system, the users of which are the scorer, umpire, and players. There are a few principles that bear on the design of these signals.

Of the famous 10 Usability Heuristics that Jakob Nielsen listed, two in particular seem to be violated:

“Error prevention: even better than good error messages [umpires alerting scorers to the incorrect score] is a careful design which prevents a problem from occurring in the first place. […] Eliminate error-prone conditions […].”
“Match between system and the real world: The system should speak the users’ language, with words, phrases and concepts familiar to the user […] Follow real-world conventions […].”

On both these heuristics the Penalty Runs signals don’t fare well. Their similarity causes confusion and their lack of reference to the real world makes them hard to decipher. Are they the best we can do?

Having said all that, I have no firm suggestions for what could replace them. Since a significant amount of their confusion is down to their similarity, I would say that only one needs to be replaced: the one that awards runs to the fielding side.

It’s tempting to incorporate the “five” element into the gesture, since, as of 2014, that is the number of runs awarded. Since it’s conceivable that the number might be altered by MCC at some stage, though, perhaps it would be best not to use it.

The best I have come up with so far is “raising a clenched fist vertically above the head.” The clenched fist would signify the ball, and the arm position would also suggest bowling, thus associating it with the fielding side. It should be possible for the scorer to differentiate it from the signal for “bye”, since the latter involves waving, and from “out”, since that specifies an index finger to be raised.

I’m interested to hear other suggestions on this topic. In the meantime, though, we have to be realistic – the signal won’t change. As a scorer, there’s no option other than learning the official signals, and learning them correctly.