Goodness Gregan, great balls of fire

England Cricket / Frank Gregan / 11 August 2008 / 1 Comments

Betting.betfair's one time military man marvels and shudders at the pace of modern seam bowling.

The old maxim goes that if you have an eye for a ball invariably you will be able to hold your own in all sports. Cricket is the exception to the rule because of the size and weight of the ball as well as the speed that it can be delivered. I adore the game but my skill level falls somewhere between pathetic and dire!

Imagine my surprise then, when playing for a ragtag Army side in a friendly community relations exercise against a Somerset side made up of second eleven players and youngsters I found myself not out with thirty odd runs to my name.

The opposition had an eighteen year old 2nd XI player who was six feet six inches tall and was bowling dolly leg breaks that were just begging to be lashed over the rope. I was at the other end and didn't face him for his first two overs but having nicked a single off the last ball of the previous over, with a leg bye to the wicketkeeper, I was looking forward to not sharing any of his next six deliveries with my batting partner.

He lobbed the first ball up in the air and I charged down the wicket displaying as much style and grace as a sumo wrestler in a pair of speedos and turned the delivery into a full toss. The ball went in a different direction to where I was aiming but still got to the boundary. And then it happened, my nemesis that is my inability to be able to keep my big mouth shut surfaced and cost me dearly. "Fetch that sunshine!" I sneered at the bowler. That comment enabled me to face genuine fast bowling for the one and only time.

The wicketkeeper smiled at the bowler and said, "I guess you want me to move back now?" The bowler then marked out a run which ended about a metre away from the sightscreen and charged in like Linford Christie after an overdose of Red Bull. The ball (at least I think it was the ball - there was very little time for recognition) pitched two thirds of the way down the wicket and had past me before my brain had sent a signal to my hands that I should be attempting to defend my life with a four inch wide piece of wood.

Bear in mind this was a 2nd XI youngster with a County side. What on earth must it be like to face Steve Harmison or Makhaya Ntini? I accept that batsmen have better protection these days but thank goodness they do otherwise a trip to the Oval would be the modern day equivalent of a trip to the Coliseum!

The cricket ball in the hands of a fast bowler is a hand grenade without the explosives. It doesn't need the explosives, the kinetic energy is enough to maim. The sight of Steve Harmison charging in on Thursday morning was a welcome sight for all English fans but Graeme Smith could be excused for fending that first ball to Alastair Cook at gully.

From my very limited experience, controlling a heart that is attempting to burst through the chest, stomach cramps, nausea and a desire to run down the other end and watch (whilst screaming NO! every time a single is on offer) is a feat unto itself! How they manage to play the ball at that pace I will never fathom.

If pace is not enough to contend with then the first change bowler invariably brings swing to the party. I've seen a football swerve in flight thousands of times but usually there is time to adjust and get in position to deal with it. On the odd occasion when you can't make the adjustment and you take a whack from a football it is painful, when you get hit by a cricket ball it is life changing! Professional cricketers should be saluted for standing there and taking the knocks and considering it to be an occupational hazard.

England have done well to win the dead rubber test and the South Africans might just be made to pay for their recent apathy when the One Day series start on 22nd of this month. The market will start to take shape in the next week or so and I recommend that anything in excess of [3.0] for England to win the series be snapped up.

As for my encounter with the fast bowler, it didn't end in tears. He hit me above the hip and below the rib cage but I managed not to cry! I paid for my "fetch that" comment but it was not the most dangerous thing I said on a sporting field. My football team were once up against a striker that was a cross between Mike Tyson and Hannibal Lecter and I played a part in getting him sent off. As he walked past me fuming I just couldn't help myself. "Don't use all the hot water!" I said. Ah, hospital food!

Comments (1)

1. AJ | 13 August 2008

   Great writing, made me chuckle