Not much changes...
Throw stones at ol’ Davey Warner, and you betcha they're coming back with mayo on!
Nick Speak
The Kardinia Park precent, Geelong, is not more than a modern-day three-wood, eight-iron, from my current place of residence, and noise travels easily on the prevailing southerly, supposedly a winter wind that frustratingly encroaches in the summer, too.
Wednesday evening is practice night for the Geelong CC women. The reassuring sounds of leather on willow wafted their way easily to Maud Street. Then there was the ever-present Geelong Netball Association and the constant barking of the loud speaker announcing game times, and everything else you need to run a successful competition.
But the loudest acoustics of all were reserved for the St. Mary’s Football Club. It’s December, and football should be an age away; alas, in these parts where the Sherrin is king, it never leaves. Off-season hibernation is for the weak folk that chase a cricket ball around. “This is footy, mate; we’re friggin tough.” “Make no mistake, rain, hail, or shine, the footy warriors are out dreaming of September finals success in December.”
It was too much for this weak soul. I shut the front door and retreated to Kayo and the Big Bash League, version thirteen.
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Has there been a franchise more incongruously named than the Melbourne Stars? If so, please let me know.
"Yes, it felt like a mismatch, reminiscent of Buster Douglas and Mike Tyson, yet you could have expected the Stars to be somewhat competitive against the reigning premiers, the Perth Scorchers (premiers, that's footy-speak for champions, I believe)."
Batting first on their home turf, the Stars quickly dug themselves a hole with some injudicious powerplay, batting on an untrustworthy surface against easily the league’s best bowling unit. No need to labour over the outs; but, at five for 60 odd with not much batting left, Jon Merlo premeditated a ‘ramp-shot’ from the bowling of heavyweight Jhye Richardson, the result being a spooned catch to wicketkeeper Josh Inglis, who nearly fluffed the chance due to the welling tears in his eyes. Jon Merlo’s a good lad, really, though. I felt like walking across to watch St. Mary’s go through their paces.
The rest came and went, leaving the Scorchers with a little over a hundred to make, which they did in canter, and that’s all she wrote.
No doubt the new coach, Peter Moores, will chop and change his combinations and try to find a spark to get the Stars season moving; he has a pretty thick playbook.
To me, the Stars way has never looked sustainable. It’s been a constant backfilling of franchise-driven players who hover at the fringes of the teams they play with. At some point, surely, there might be a shift towards growing their own produce.
Tom Rogers—Ringwood CC—looks like one of their better players. How did he get his opportunity? Covid. The Stars were left to scratch around club cricket to fill a team; Rogers got a start and has made a decent go of it since.
No, not much does change...
Throw stones at ol’ Davey Warner, and you betcha they're coming back with mayo on!
How’s this for a conspiracy theory? Mitchell Johnson, in case you missed it, published some disparaging remarks about his former teammates’s desire to finish his Test career on his own terms.
Johnson’s remarks were equally endorsed by a number of contemporary past players.
Perhaps, just perhaps, this was all a grand plan by the Australian alumni to galvanise Warner in his five-Test swan-song tour.
“Warner’s from the hood, a product of the projects; he don’t need no encouragement when it comes down to this shit; he just doubles down and gets the job done.”
That he did.
Setting conspiracy theories aside, Warner silenced the critics with a roller-coaster 164 from 211 balls to guide Australia to a dominant five for 346 at stumps on Thursday at Perth's Optus Stadium. This all but guarantees his Test farewell in Sydney.
The brief stats: he needed just 125 balls to register his 26th Test century with 16 fours and four maximum’s. His career Test tally now sits at 8,631 runs, jumping both Matthew Hayden and Michael Clarke into fifth spot on Australia’s all-time Test runs list.
And what else doesn’t change?
Pakistan, Warner’s opponent, drops catches, bowls no-balls, points fingers, their best fast bowler goes pole-hunting, and past players sit in the commentary box and pillar from head to toe, pointing out their lack of potency. They have fast bowlers; it’s just that they choose not to play. And the two past players in question were both best-in-class by a country mile.
Contrary to the headline, seasons do change; I’ve often imagined living closer to the equator, enjoying the predictability and comforts of warmer weather. But then you miss the rain, the cold, and the snow. I’m persistently told you cannot beat a New England fall (or autumn). Yes, the season’s are important.
The Australian cricket season is shrinking—aren’t we all?—but don’t be fooled; the telltale signs are omnipresent.
There's a shift to a looser collar, thoughts of sea and sand, and games of golf without the guilt of self-indulgence. The radio, oh for the radio, I just wish the commentary could be rolled back to yesterday. We miss Brian Johnston. A Test match can liken itself to a faithful canine, always at your side, and ready for action when needed.
Beers will be consumed, or pretentious come-by-lately’s, without the condemnation of peer pressure. It’s all good stuff; however narrow the window is, who cares? Just enjoy it while you can. The dark forces of franchise-cricket are circling us as we speak.
Here’s to ol’ Davey Warner; I’ll be sure to doff the cap and tip one in tonight.
Enjoy the summer, everyone. I hope to be here with you.
Good to have you back. Very enjoyable