Pain without panic, please

The View from Row Z

WATCH as the lonely figure in the distance slides into view, shifting gears from a gentle walk to a brisk half-run before frantically attracting the attention of a stationary bus, which then suddenly pulls away without warning.

Look into that stranded non-passenger’s eyes as they chew on the thick exhaust fumes and you will see depths of human misery that can only be matched by those attempting to come to terms with another England batting collapse.

The sinking feeling, the powerlessness. The strange inevitability of it all. The bloomin’ Australians, so pleased to be Australian with their toothy grins and love of the outdoors (though I accept this point is one where the bus analogy is caught wafting airily outside off-stump).

This was an Ashes Test that was done and dusted within an hour of the first morning of play, yet we had to wait three days for confirmation that we are not actually as good as the tourists after all. Cock fighting and badger baiting have nothing on this sort of cricket when it comes to wanton cruelty.

It was almost too much to bear, but England’s non-performance at Headingley should be viewed in isolation. Sure, our lads collapsed in pathetic fashion to gift-wrap the game, complete with ribbons and bits of glitter and chocolate buttons, and hand it to Australian captain Ricky Ponting. (Who, incidentally, is clearly one of the finest batsmen of his generation and the jeers he is regularly presented with bring shame on the sport).

But some are demanding wholesale change at this stage that would be crazy. We are at 1-1 heading into the final Test and I reckon that isn’t too bad a position to be in against a very decent Australia team.

England’s side needs a minor tweak or two — an emphasis on bowling a good length and striking the ball with the middle of the bat as opposed to the edge would be good places to start with — but the line-up is as strong as it can be taking injuries into account.

Please, though, no more mid-order collapses at the Oval. It would be great to watch the live scorecard on the BBC without experiencing that slow, sinking feeling.


THE Challenge Cup semi-finals at the weekend made for some great viewing, firmly putting such anodyne fare as the Community Shield to shame.

You only had to watch an emotional Lee Briers dedicating his Warrington side’s victory to his late brother to realise how much was on the line in a fine contest against Wigan.

Similarly, Huddersfield’s win against holders St Helens was a thrilling display built upon guts, guts and more guts.

A sharp contrast then, to the pre-season jog between Manchester United and Chelsea. Surely with the Premier League, FA Cup, Champions League and Coca-Cola Cup clashes these teams already face each other more than enough?

Why anyone would pay good money to see a bunch of millionaires doing their best to avoid injury for a thoroughly meaningless prize is beyond me.