Do you really always know when you edge one?

A few seasons ago, I had the good fortune to stumble upon Ian Chappell fielding some talkback on Fairfax radio during a rain break.

One call was from some bloke who, by the sound of him, had spent way too much time complaining about refugees and not nearly enough appreciating cricket’s nuances. He asked, “Why don’t they ban these bloody bouncers? You’d reckon after what happened to Phil Hughes they’d put a stop to them. It’s a bloody disgrace, Ian, is what it is: a bloody disgrace.”

I could sense the blood welling in Ian’s temples. In that inimitable Chappelli tone where he conveys that he’s never suffered a fool before and he’s not about to start now, he said, “Mate if you want cricket games where one team scores twelve hundred runs and the other a thousand, that’s the best way to go about it.”

To this, he forcefully added, “The problem’s not bouncers, mate, it’s batsmen’s techniques.” Chappelli then banged on as he always does about how batsmen in his day handled the short ball a lot better than the modern players and that if he had things his way, there’d be no helmets, no laws about intimidatory bowling, and way, way more juice left in pitches.

A little later, there was a call from someone who questioned, “Why do they have these five-day draws in cricket? It’s stupid.”

In the pause before he answered, Chappell surely despaired. He then said, “Mate, that’s just the way cricket is. You’ve got five days to get a result and if you can’t get one in five days, you don’t deserve to win.”

As Chappelli’s explanations go, it was a good one, but the logic surely must have been lost on the caller. If they hadn’t then moved to the next call, and he’d been allowed a follow-up comment, you’d dare say he’d have questioned “Que?” just like Manuel from Fawlty Towers.

When not tearing out his hair dealing with fragments of Steve Price’s audience, Chappelli is, of course, not giving an inch to anyone taking him on in the Nine box. Of note was a comment he made during the Boxing Day Test.

James Vince had just been given LBW to one he nicked, and having not realized he had, chose not to review. Chappelli was astounded: “I tell ya, I always knew when I nicked one,” he said, or something to that effect.

Chappelli’s astonishment continued as the replays came in, complete with hotspot and snicko verification of a chunky inside edge before the ball thudded into the pad. All the while, I was bemused, wondering if anyone was going to take him on about it.

And Chappelli went on and on, replay after replay after replay, continuing in an air that he was so switched on when he played that he would never have suffered Vince’s fate and still nothing from his co-commentators… nothing.

So, Ian, here’s the thing: you always knew when you nicked one, the times you knew you nicked one. Just as James Vince and Dawid Malan experienced in that test, it is possible to nick chunkily without feeling the ball. So it’s highly likely that in a career spanning over 20 years, you nicked at least one without realising it.

Still, even though you make lofty claims to the unverifiable, I love ya.

And oh, Chappelli doesn’t get the raspberry for the most illogical comment during the Boxing Day Test. That goes to (and as if you weren’t expecting it!) Shane Warne, who, in reference to the wearisome ‘You’re only as good as your last game’, revealed, “‘You’re only as good as your next game’ says it better for me.”

You’re only as good as your next game?

Shane, when you return the DeLorean to Marty McFly, after checking whether someone is good in the future, be sure to shoot me the results from that match: I’ve always wanted to take on the spot-fixing bookies with that sort of inside info.