Public Apology: Sorry ... ha ha ... not really ... for the recent dearthage. A minor bout of what he's got, busy business back at school, a friend over from WA and the now traditional mid-week DW downtime have meant a lack of blogortunity.
Anyhoo, after Brian Lara scored his 400, somewhere, sometime, I heard a whisper he'd been given not out on nought. Couldn't get a fix on it though, until now:
A hair's breadth
"Look Hair," I said when I tuned into the television coverage of the Fourth Test match between England and the West Indies at the Antigua Cricket Ground. I was here in Trinidad and the cricket was there in Antigua but Hair was also there even though it was singularly lacking on Brian Lara's head. In fact, Hair, the presence of the one, and the absence of the other, constitutes the major difference between then and now, Lara's 375 ten years ago and his 400 not out now.
"Hair we go again folks," I shouted as Lara got into the three-hundreds. When he made the 400 few people realised that I, a victim of the hair today gone tomorrow syndrome, made a thankful prayer not for, but to, Hair.
Why all this fuss about Hair? Should I have made that famous Rogaine promise, "Hair we grow again" now taken over by Viagra and Levitra? The fact is that while what is left of my hair was standing on end waiting for Lara to pass 380 and establish a new record, I was not all that scared because Hair was standing at one end of the wicket, adjudicating on the game, or umpiring as we know it in cricket. He has gained weight, however, and so expanded the definition or parameters of what constitute a Hair's breadth.
There are times when you feel that umpires are motivated beyond the stipulation (and expectation) of impartiality and fair play. There is a famous story told about several different fast bowlers, from Larwood to Truman. The legend goes that the fast bowler took his long run up and sent down a thunderbolt which hit the batsman below the knee-roll dead in front for a perfect lbw. The victory dance was interrupted when after the triumphant "Owzat" the umpire calmly said, "Not out." The angry bowler sped back to his mark and bowled the next ball at lightning speed. The hapless batsman got an edge and was caught in the slips.
Amid the cheering once more the umpire shook his head and said, "Not out." The bowler was forcibly restrained from going after the umpire and, after being convinced that he should continue, bowled the fastest ball he had ever bowled in his life. The batsman never saw it. All three stumps were uprooted, one was shattered, and the bails were on the boundary.
The bowler turned towards the umpire, shook his head and said, "Nearly had him that time."
Every cricketer has experienced poor umpiring or has been the victim of dubious umpiring decisions. I once played in a bush league in South Trinidad where good batsmen had to ensure that they were never hit on the pads. I bowled a ball outside the offstump which the batsman hit straight into the safe hands of the cover fieldsman. When I appealed, the umpire looked me in the eye and said, "No ball." At the end of the over, as I took my cap from the umpire, the batsman came down the wicket and asked him, "How I batting, Uncle?"
Whatever happens, regardless of how cheated you feel, the umpire has the last word. There is no recourse even when the cameras and slow motion replays show that you're not out. A batsman was given run out and did not agree with the decision. He was still upset when the umpires came in for the lunch break. "I wasn't out, you know," he protested to the umpire.
"Oh no?" the umpire asked mockingly. "Look in the newspapers tomorrow!"
Even at the Test level, there are many controversies. Last year, the umpire rated the best in the world, Steve Bucknor, gave Tendulkar out and was lambasted in the press. With his customary calm, Bucknor answered the criticism by saying that surely he could not have become a bad umpire overnight. Brian Lara has been particularly unlucky. He was given out to a stumping by Ian Healy, Australia's wicketkeeper, when the ball was not in Healy's grasp. He was out caught by Steve Waugh when it was clear that the ball had hit the ground first. Several times, he has been given out "lbw" when the ball pitched outside the leg-stump and the laws clearly state that should not happen, ever.
This is where Hair comes in rather than falls out. A few years ago, Brian Lara had said that Australian umpire, Darrell Bruce Hair, the man from Mudgee, who played for Mosman, and who now lives in England, was the best umpire in the world.
Just interrupting -- tell it to the Chuckanistas.
On Thursday, last week, at the start of Lara's innings, Hair proved it for me, at least. In the defining moment of the match, a ball missed Lara's bat by a hair's breadth. It was so close that any umpire, especially with the vociferous and victorious shout from the English cricketers, and the sound of a snick that could have been ball off bat and not just pad touching pad, might have given it.
The very slow motion replay, not available to the umpire when he made his decision, showed that the ball very narrowly missed the edge and that there was a noise, but most likely from Lara's pads. Had Hair succumbed, we would have missed the finest ever innings in the history of Test cricket.
While Sarwan and Jacobs played their parts as foils to the Lara rapier, Hair was the one I applauded with
"Hair! Hair." It was a courageous and correct decision.
Now when the Trinidad Government wants to honour Lara, perhaps they might think of the poor umpire whose job is thankless and hours are long, whose life is friendless and who is always wrong. Perhaps the airport, but Chicago already has O'Hare and it sounds similar. There is a story about a cricket club secretary in England who, just before a Test match started, got a message from one of his staff that there was an umpire down at the gate with two friends and wanted to know if the club would let them in free.
"Not at all," the secretary replied. "The man's obviously lying." "Why do you say that?" his employee asked. To which the secretary replied, "Who ever heard of an umpire with two friends."
(Via Nardo)
I am not liking this new midweek tradition.
Posted by: Adam | 21 April 2004 at 18:20
Yep. Four hours down is four hours too many. Especially when it coincides with the only time I had to post yesterday. Tuesday, Wednesday or Thursday. You can almost guarantee it'll be down once on one of those nights.
Posted by: Tony.T | 21 April 2004 at 18:26