Michael Bevan: inspiration to the modern middle order bat?

Gaurav Sabnis' Vantage Point ranks among the blogs on the web that I read regularly, particularly for his comments on cricket. In light of Suresh Raina and MS Dhoni's display with the bat at Faridabad, he brought up an old comment of his that the modern middle order batsman has been brought up on Michael Bevan.

It's something I disagree with, given my opinions of Michael Bevan. Without a doubt, the man was a master at his craft - most times, he was Australia's go-to man in ODIs when a run chase was under way and needed to be finished off, or when a tail needed to be shepherded to eke out as many runs as possible. But is hindsight a little too kind to him?

In his post on "A Generation Fed on Bevan", Gaurav Sabnis suggests that the Indian team has more and more players today idolising Bevan with his influences coming out in their batting and fielding. I however would mark him down as just one of a number of major influences in the evolution of the modern middle order batsman. While I have a huge amount of respect for his accomplishments in the middle order for Australia, I've wondered whether a few of his achievements are a tad overrated. I've seen a number of games where Bevan did come in during a fairly tense situation and began an innings fairly sluggishly, often struggling to work the strike around for the first eight or ten deliveries he'd face. Perhaps it was his lack of a reputation as a big hitter, perhaps it was the knowledge many teams had that he would often play a very high percentage game early in his innings - whatever the reason though, he'd often start quite slowly and in a tight situation, could often build pressure both on himself and his partner due to his inability to keep momentum flowing early on.

While in many situations he did end up helping win the game, I feel that he often did end up making a close situation much closer than it should have and could have been. His strike rate's the one question mark that seems to hang (at least for me) over his record - while he was superb at rotating strike and running hard later in his innings, he often did struggle to score particularly quickly until he'd taken his time to get set. If he came in with 40 needed in 5 overs for example, he wouldn't be as effective as he was in games when he had ample time to play himself in (albeit at the expense of the required run rate). Plenty consider him to be the near-perfect ODI player due to his calm under pressure, but that weakness - a bigger concern as boundaries became more valuable on flatter and easier wickets - seems to be a significant Achilles heel.

I'd consider Lance Klusener to be the epitome of what Bevan lacked: someone who had the capability of chasing down extremely high run rates over short periods with much more success. Klusener could turn a game like Bevan couldn't - if 30 were needed off 3 overs, and the batsman had faced somewhere between 6 to 10 balls, a Klusener would have been far more likely to win the game from thereon with his ability to thrash boundaries and clear the ropes. In the evolution of the modern finisher; it's just as significant an attribute as the running and subtle strokeplay, perhaps even moreso. Some of the most successful finishers these days (Mike Hussey and MS Dhoni come to mind) seem to combine the best of Bevan, with his aggressive running and deft placement with Klusener's brute force and his ability to at times clear the ropes or pepper the boundary boards at will.

As far as the modern end over batsman is concerned - spare a thought for Douglas Marillier. The 'lap' shot (or the scoop, or a paddle sweep variant) has become almost a staple in one day cricket's end overs these days. It was Marillier who first innovated it on the big stage, using it to steal an infamous victory at Faridabad against India, and it seems to have become one of the most rapidly accepted innovations in cricket. Brendon McCullum and Hamish Marshall of New Zealand are particularly adept at it, Suresh Raina used it to great effect against Kabir Ali yesterday, Russel Arnold and Tillekeratne Dilshan have made good use of it, the list goes on and on. Several years down the line, it might even be making occasional appearances in tests. What might Marillier make of it all?

Phoenix from the Ashes - Mike Brearley

Tour diaries are a mixed bag. There are some that are bores, filled with irrelevant details and writing that is far too formulaic; others at the opposite end of the spectrum that provide some fantastic insights and are hard to put down. Few in the latter category though are written by players taking part in the series - these better ones are normally those written by the Arlotts, Carduses, Fingletons and others who write with a view to a bigger picture than just the games themselves. Mike Brearley's "Phoenix from the Ashes" fits into the latter category, a diary of the 1981 Ashes detailing the English turnaround under his captaincy.

Brearley missed the first two tests of the series, having been left out from the side due to an inability to hold a place as a specialist batsman. Under Ian Botham's leadership, England lost to Australia at Trent Bridge and struggled at Lord's in a drawn match, at which point Botham resigned from the captaincy. The TCCB selection committee opted to recall Mike Brearley to lead the side for the next three tests. Botham, freed of the burden of captaincy, turned his form around to see England take the next three tests and win the series 3-1. Brearley had played no role whatsover in the first two tests, instead playing county cricket for Middlesex and a warmup game against the Australian tourists where he scored an unbeaten hundred that played a major part in his recall.

The diary is thus written from a particularly unique perspective, but what sets it apart from most other cricket books is the writing style used. Mike Brearley was well known for his psychoanalytical studies and exceptional man-management skills - as Rodney Hogg succintly put it, he had "a degree in people". Rather than writing in a descriptive manner and trying to make the events come back to life through a pen and paper, Brearley instead looks back at the series through a far more analytical prism, giving as much importance to the off-field events as he does to the cricket itself. While some of the writing may be more in the manner of a psychological paper (particularly in the first couple of chapters, where Brearley provides his views on the first two tests as an outsider, and goes into a fine analysis of some of the key Australian and English players), Brearley ensures it doesn't get monotonous and keeps the pages turning.

The insights into the workings of the selection committee and some of the mental strengths and failings of his own men, and the manners in which Brearley tries to address them make for compelling reading. As the book progresses though, Brearley focuses more and more on the cricket itself. While the odd comment about the county schedules, pitches and groundstaff are woven into the writing, Brearley is careful to not overanalyse each minute detail and instead continues to look at the big picture. The writing is well balanced, not focusing too much on one specific test or player, and instead looking at the team and the game as a whole, and in the "Interlude" chapter, even the responses of fans and the mood in the country following the Australian collapse at Edgbaston, where they were bowled out for 121 (with Ian Botham taking 5 wickets for 1 run in one spell) chasing 151.

Another striking feature in the book is the illustrative photography. Some magnificent photographs from the tests are spread throughout the book and complement the writing superbly, along with various other odds and ends - for example; Bill Frindall's run charts of Ian Botham's hundreds at Leeds and Old Trafford, showing scoring progression and the areas shots were played in. It's amazing to note that Botham's 118 at Old Trafford saw him go from 26 to 100 in just 33 balls after the new ball was taken by Kim Hughes. In this day where fast scoring has become a norm, particularly with weaker attacks and flatter wickets, such a feat may not seem quite as impressive - but against the likes of Terry Alderman and Dennis Lillee, it's a particularly remarkable feat.

"Phoenix from the Ashes" is not a book for everyone though. Plenty might find it too dry or too analytical, others may not enjoy Brearley's attention to small details and might much rather read several pages waxing enthusiastic about Botham's inspiring hitting or Willis and Lillee's bowling, rather than Brearley's difficulty in deciding on a squad of twelve and informing certain players of their axings. Yet it's a fascinating read, a diary of a magnificent test series written with a style and level of perspective rarely used in cricket literature, and a book that's definitely worth obtaining of for anyone with an interest in cricketing history or literature.