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Okay, first the boring preamble bit where you lament that Test cricket is dying, before pitching a not so hare-brained idea to revitalise it:
Stadiums are empty, interest is waning, ratings are down, kids prefer T20, and it’s a mofo of a shame because Tests are superior.
Yes, I know that people are time poor, but damn, this is Test cricket we’re talking about!
Yes, I know that five-day games are an anachronism, but damn, the fans who’ve betrayed it for T20 can’t even spell anachronism.
Yes, I know the Test Championship the ICC kept promising never materialised because of logistical problems, but damn, hell will freeze over before I let those lackeys to the BCCI take hope away from me.
Yes, I know Tests can be slow, ponderous, tedious, boring and a gazillion other unappealing things, but damn, Tests are the best fit for text book batting and artistry, and searching spells of short-pitched bowling, and spinners bowling into the footmarks on fifth-day pitches, and players making triple tons, and miraculous bat-pad catches, and five slips and a gully in the cordon, and thrilling draws where heroic tail-enders hold out penetrative bowling for entire sessions against the odds (damn it!).
Right, that out of the way, now for the not so hare-brained idea to revitalise Test cricket that’s probably completely and utterly hare-brained, but you settle for something in the middle, for fear that if you didn’t, it’d be haggled down to a smidge above hare-brained (phew!).
And drum roll, please…
Let every country play for the Ashes.
Let me repeat that slowly.
Let… Every… Country… Play… For… The… Ashes.
I repeated that slowly, of course, because first time round you probably thought your eyes were playing tricks, in that you reckoned you’d never come across a crazier idea. Further, you were probably a little annoyed that you’d invested any time in this article, seeing that your first impression of every country playing for the Ashes is the nuttiest thing you’ve heard.
But upon being given time to digest it when read slowly between ellipses, you found that your love of Test cricket was given ample space to leave you open to any suggestion to save it, even though it had initially seemed hare-brained and madcap and non compos mentis.
Or perhaps you kept thinking no, even repeated slowly, that’s plum loco crazy.
Anyway, here’s the technical bit where you’re walked through how it works.
Let’s say we started this idea a few months ago and that meant England went to the Emirates to play Pakistan with the Ashes. Pakistan went on to win that series, so – joy of joy for the people of Rawalpindi – they now hold the Ashes. Whoever beats Pakistan next will then become the holders. And so on and so on and so on, infinitum.
I guess you have a few questions, yes?
“You,” I’d ask, “the crusty looking sports nut in the third row?”
“Yeah, I get your idea, mate, but why the Ashes? Why can’t it be just some sort of cup?”
I’d mentally shake my head.
“Because coming up with a cup just won’t do. The Ashes is, without par, the most sacred trophy in cricket and only the Ashes would excite the other Test-playing nations to embrace the concept.
“Next question, you, the crusty looking sports nut with the incredibly disapproving expression.”
“So, what, we Aussies and Poms have to give up our sacred trophy so as to invigorate Tests in other countries? Why would we want to do that?”
I wouldn’t even answer the question
“Next question, you, the crusty looking sports nut with an equally disapproving expression.”
“Err, how do you know this would even work?”
I would again mentally shake my head.
“What, you don’t think India, South Africa and New Zealand would love to get their hands on the urn? I imagine they’d rub it in our faces with wicked delight once they did. Indeed, striving for it would prove an adrenalin shot for every Test-playing nation.
“Next question.”
“So, what, is this like a Test championship?”
“No, it’s not a Test championship. That will never work for Test cricket; if it could, we would have found a way by now.
“This is just the Ashes, but expanded to include everyone. Whoever holds the Ashes are simply the smug bastards who hold the Ashes. They’re not champions, just keepers of the flame.
“Next, you, crusty sports nut with an expression that’s almost disturbing.”
“So, what, this means there’ll be Australia-England series that aren’t for the Ashes?”
Again I’d be mentally shakin.
“Isn’t that a small price to pay for the good of the game? And besides, mate, we’re usually shitloads better than every other country and we’ll hold it more often than not, so is it really that much of a problem?”
Feeling like I really shut that guy up, I’d point to someone who looks a little more receptive.
“Okay,” he’d ask, “so now that Pakistan hypothetically has the Ashes, we’ll be playing them for the urn next season, yeah?”
“So long as they don’t lose a series in between, yes, we’ll be playing em for the urn.”
“That’s great then.”
“Yes it is great.”
I would then field a question from a cynical-looking cockroach way at the back.
“What’s to stop India scheduling a series with them at short notice so they could beat us to a shot?”
“All of the series would be locked in four years in advance just as they are currently. There’d be no hastily arranged series to fast track a shot. You just have to wait for a scheduled series to come your way where the opponent holds the urn. Simple as that.”
He’d shift uncomfortably in his seat.
“Yeah I guess that works,” he’d say, but sounding like it killed him to say it.
He’d then figure he’d come up with a zinger.
“But have you considered that a team could go years and years before getting a shot if the cards didn’t unfold favourably?”
I had!
“Yes, I have considered that a team could go years and years before getting a shot,” I’d answer, a degree robotically and not looking a smidge obnoxious or contemptuous in doing so, because his supposed zinger was very much deserving of mockery.
“But mate,” I’d add, “don’t you think there would be plenty of instances where the team you were next scheduled to play had just been vying for the Ashes and that that would created greater interest in that series here and abroad?”
He would think it over.
“Yeah, but so what; we wouldn’t be playing for the Ashes at the end of it all, would we?”
And to that, I’d think, this guy sounds just like one of the glass half-empty troglodytes you’d find at The Roar.
“Okay,” I’d then answer, “yes, I guess you’ll have a damp squib here and there, but again, I think that’s a small price to pay.”
And he’d say, “Well I don’t, mate: I think it’s a big price to pay, especially seeing that we could conceivably go decades playing the Poms without it ever being for the Ashes.”
And this would then fire up all the sports nuts with the incredibly disapproving expressions. They’d all walk a foot taller now, and you’d hear ‘hare brained’ spat out with extreme prejudice, and the twitching corpse that is Test cricket would soon be twitching no more.
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