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Opinion
“It’s just not cricket.”
“I can’t stand the pyjama game! There’s not enough time for a batsman to build an innings. And you may as well place a bowling machine at the other end.”
“That agricultural slog over mid-wicket just isn’t a true cricket shot. Short-form cricket is destroying batting techniques.”
“There’s no room for artful spin bowling in these fetid slog-fests.”
“It may involve a bat and a ball, but whatever this is, it ain’t no game of cricket.”
All you T20 contrarians, I’ve heard it all before.
I can’t remember the exact words, because they were uttered over 40 years ago, but these quotes reflect the prevailing sentiment from the old fuddy-duddies who were rattling about in the mid-to-late-1970s in their brown suits and beige cardigans when 50-over cricket first began capturing the imagination of the cricketing youth of the era – including mine.
(Photo by Mark Kolbe/Getty Images)
Thank God those cricketing curmudgeons didn’t prevail. If they did, we would have been denied a rich history or wonderful ODI memories. Wayne Daniel turning to face square leg and walloping Mick Malone many a mile at VFL Park to win a thriller. Michael Bevan straight driving Carl Hooper for four at the SCG to win the match from the last ball with the last man in. Damien Fleming rolling the ball along the ground to run out a faltering Allan Donald, while Lance Klusener steamed towards the dressing room, to send the Aussies into the World Cup final. And countless other classics before and since.
Thank God the fuddy-duddies and their bleating gripes did not deny us those memories.
But the cricketing baton has been passed to a new generation. And, as the recently completed World Cup demonstrated, T20 cricket has smashed its 50-over older brother out of the park and down the street.
Now it’s my generation, as we enter fuddy-duddydom, which is banging on about traditions and carping about failing batting techniques and whining about supersized slog-fests that fail to nourish the soul.
But when it comes to white-ball cricket, T20 is quite simply the better product.
The limited-overs format is designed with the specific objective of manufacturing a tight finish. That’s what it’s all about. So the sooner we get to the point where the team batting second need 32 runs from 13 balls with four wickets in hand and their best batter at the crease, the better. Why sit through over seven hours of formulaic cricket to get there when we can get the job done in less than four?
And I reject the notion that T20 has no shelf life. Three weeks may have passed, but I can still remember in vivid detail those dramatic last eight balls of India’s improbable run chase against Pakistan on the second day of the World Cup. It was exhilarating. It will rightfully occupy a place amongst a galaxy of treasured cricketing memories as I enter my dotage, as will England’s triumph over the brave Pakistanis in an engaging final.
Ultimately what renders a bad T20 match soulless is exactly the same as what renders a bad 50-over match soulless: a lack of context. It’s the endless parade of meaningless matches in yet another pointless series that sucks the nourishment from the contest. That’s where T20 has a problem. It’s not the foreshortened format. It’s the proliferation of franchises and bilateral international series which cause one burst of fireworks to blend into the next. Give me a contest with a consequence and I’m there!
The T20 World Cup proved, at least to this aging fuddy-duddy, that when the match has meaning, T20 is the future and 50-over cricket may soon be a thing of the past.
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