The Independent Voice of West Indies Cricket

Matters Cricket: Bad Memories

Sun, Mar 22, '15

by RAY FORD

Commentary

I was conducting a post mortem with a Fortis bredrin yesterday, who, sensing my anger, advised, "don't write anything today." And I didn't. I'm now pleased to advise, that today, on a brand new day, my anger has subsided. But, not by much.
 
Touts
 
I have an enduring respect for Clive Lloyd. But when I saw his run-up interview, conducted by Barry Wilkinson, he sounded more like the Tout-in-Chief. Not the Selector-in-Chief. "I'm proud of what they (the boys) have achieved so far. And they will give a good account of themselves," or words to that effect. Could this be the same team he was speaking of, which like a five-pound rat, had squeaked into the quarter-finals, as if wiggling its way through a quarter-inch round rat-hole? And just like a tout at Caymanas Park, he like the other high-profile touts, was nowhere to be heard or seen, after the horse-race was run.    
 
Folks, I'm a West Indian, for the West Indies. But there's something called 'full-and unadulterated disclosure', that sellers are duly bound to disclose to prospective buyers. The truth should have been told. Caveat emptor. This was a horse, running out of its class.    
 
A bad drop

Then the match got underway. And as soon as it did, Samuels at forward square, missed a sharp chance off Martin Guptill. Needless to say, Samuels' alarm clock, had not yet rung. Too early folks. The gentleman was still in his slumber. The lucky opening batsman was at the time, on 4. At the end of New Zealand's proceedings, The little fellow was still there - on 237.
 
Bad memories
 
I was at Sabina Park twenty (20) years ago, when wicketkeeper (and now West Indies selector), Courtney Browne, put down Steve Waugh early in his innings, off Kenny Benjamin. The feisty batsman was on 42. Last I know, Waugh who made an even 200, was still batting. And the Frank Worrell trophy? It has never been since seen. And might never be seen again. At least, not again, in my lifetime
 
It was from then, that the nose-dive began. And since then Humpty-Dumpty, has never been made whole. Many commanders have since then, commandeered the left seat. But none has been able to pull back the yoke. The horizontal stabilizers are jammed.


 
Giving laugh fi peas soup

Ok. West Indies are five wickets down. And out comes Darren Sammy, 'giving laugh fi peas soup'. "Wait a minute," says Sir Ian Botham on-air at the time. "Don't the West Indies realize, that based on run-rate, they're still in with a chance?" Apparently not.    
 
Sammy's cavalier 'good-old-boy' approach in the middle, was like that of the venerable Keith Jackson, at the half of a big Big10 college football game, asking, "who's on for next week? Because, this one is done."  
 
The match then became a big-hitting audition for the next IPL draft. All and sundry on-show, were showing-off their 'distance-hitting'. And the West Indies were now there, to, (quote): "entertain." Not to apply and to graft.  
 
Like him or hate him, Colin Croft said as much, when the cameras panned in on him, in his post mortem, his take was, (quote): "West Indies and their big-hitting, were never gonna last beyond 25 overs." He was wrong. It lasted all of 30.3.     
 
Full disclosure
 
The former Australian left-arm seamer Brendon Julian - a union member, was on a few night ago. And in one of his stints, re-opened a never-healed wound. He was a spoke in Australia's 1995 wheel, that ran over us at Sabina Park. And he spoke, reminding us all that it was (Sir) Richie Richardson who in his then post mortem, branded the Australian fast attack, as (quote): "the weakest he had ever seen."  
 
There's nothing folks, that gets stuck in a fast bowler's craw, and in his mind, than a batsman speaking ill of the craft. And up to last week, Richardson's insult, was still sewn deep into the seam of the left-handed seamer.     
 
Of Richardson's utterance at the time, I wrote in More musings on that match, in the May/June 1995 issue of the Jamaica Weekly Gleaner "Richie Richardson now poses more frightening problems. He seems bent on making vapid statements - statement that misrepresent the intelligence and sportsmanship of the Caribbean people." Folks, since then, Sir Richie has done nothing, either to change my opinion of him, or, to bring me for my unkind words, any remorse. And so, in other words, might I now borrow a phrase from the high-command of the Peoples National Party (PNP) in Jamaica. "Mi naa change course".
 
With 86 Test matches (5949 @ 44.39) and 224 ODIs (6248 @ 33.41), Sir Richie has served the West Indies well. But in our need of inspiration, I find him uninspiring. It's now time to pull him away from the trough. With him, we're dumping 'high-tea' into the Boston Harbor.
 
What value is being added?
 
Brian Lara and Colin Croft, have too, publicly asked, (and I'll paraphrase here): "What value is being added to proceedings, by the West Indies back-room staff"? The pictures of Sir Richie Richardson, sitting firmly seated, expressionless on his throne, in his dark glasses in the middle of the night, lets me wonder. Unlike Australia's Darren Lehmann, Pakistan's Waqar Younis, and South Africa's 'White Lightning', except for our bowling coach Sir Curtly Ambrose, I see no enthusiastic engagement, and no instructions on 'changing course', once proceedings begin to proceed. As the Titanic noses down, the image Sir Richie Richardson to me is portraying is one of "gentlemen, can I be served one last cup of tea?" Folks, as I said, on Sir Richardson, I write with an inherent bias. Be that as I do, it's time to clean-out the attic. There are now too many bats, who if allowed, will take permanent berth.    
 
Who's in-charge?
 
I haven't always agreed with everything Fortis Michael Holding has said. But, in the Match Point post mortem, when asked about the future of West Indies cricket, he said "I haven't the slightest idea. I don't know what the West Indies Cricket Board or its selectors are doing", or something to that effect.
 
In part I must agree. Because, the selectors - barring a little vengeance as some have suggested - can only pick from the talent-pool available to them. But as I said, the West Indies backroom staff of cooks - sanctioned by the WICB - must take some heat. There are too many of them. And when the broth is spoilt, they take wings.
 
When things go wrong, as they too often do, none will step forward, and put his or her hand up. Who was in-charge of strategy before, and during, our last outing? Was it Sir Curtly Ambrose? Was it Clive Lloyd? Was it Sir Richie Richardson? Or was it the interim head coach Stuart Williams? Who folks? Who, on this Sunday morning, will stand-up and say "I was the one directing traffic. But my white glove fell off"? Everybody it seems, has, as we say in Jamaica, "tek bush".
 
A new sheriff in-town

Be that as I ask folks, there's a new sheriff in the person of coach Phil Simmons, in-town. Back in 1995, for his doggedness, and his punching above his weight, I wrote favorably of him (see More musings...). Don't expect water to be turned into wine. At least, not immediately. Nobody but Jesus, was born with magical powers. My only hope, is that, the gun that will be placed in his holder, has real bullets. And not blanks.
 
A parting shot

It was Clive Lloyd who of his first experience as captain of the West Indies team - in India, wrote the following (see pages 84-85 of Supercat): "My Lancashire pal Farokh Engineer was sitting next to him (manager Gerry Alexander), during one of the matches, and he told me later that Gerry had been calling over the balcony, which was close to the pitch, getting players to move into different positions. When I found out, I had to tell him, (Gerry Alexander), 'Look, Mr. Manager, please refrain from that activity'". In other words, Mr. Alexander was being politely told to "stay in your lane."
 
Folks, I am hoping the new West Indies coach Phil Simmons, will walk around with a slip of paper in his back pocket, bearing these words. "Gentlemen, stay in your lane(s)".