The review-free afternoon in Dubai was brilliant, as were Younus Khan and Azhar Ali
The madness stopped after lunch and Test cricket as we have come to know it, or at least expected it to be during this series, took hold, as if all that had gone before, here and in Abu Dhabi, had all been a bad dream. There is still much of this game to play certainly in terms of time and much can change. But it might still turn out that way for England, for as the afternoon wore on and the crescent shadow of the stadium roof made its way round the ground like a giant sundial, their chances of winning the final Test and gaining some late kudos and retain a grip, however tenuous, on their top-dog status, were evaporating.
By the time Azhar Ali joined Younus Khan at the crease, six more wickets had fallen in the morning session, making 22 in around eight hours of cricket. The game had been frenetic to that point, a nonstop whirl of departing batsmen and more reviews than a Broadway production. Cricket it seemed had lost its marbles. The umpire decision review system was taking over the minds of the cricket world as if the game was scripted by Stephen King.
Then, miracle of miracles, Younus and Azhar changed things. The ball stopped fizzing for Monty Panesar, and had never really started for Graeme Swann. Jimmy Anderson and Stuart Broad plugged away but the ball had lots its spirit and the pitch its capriciousness, if indeed it really had been capricious in the first place. Perhaps it had all been a Derren Brown illusion. Instead of thumping into the pads, the ball began to beat a tattoo onto the middle of the bat. England persisted in bowling for the lbws, but throughout the afternoon there was not a single shout, not even a whisper. And no damned review until the closing minutes. Panesar was forced to bowl over the wicket, seeking help from any smidgeon of rough, redolent of the dog-days of Ashley Giles trundling away. The batsmen simply hoofed him away with impunity, immune to the lbw law. The forgotten art of pad play was enough to make the heart sing. For five minutes anyway.
Together Younus and Azhar reminded us of what batting can be like. As if we had really forgotten. There was no need for referrals or reviews because they used the bat. Unless it was deliberate, nothing hit the pad until Swann turned one to Azhar towards the close. Nothing. It was brilliant, exhilarating even, runs cheered by a large clutch of Pakistan supporters who had made their way to the wasteland of the Dubai Sports City, but admired by all surely.
Upstairs, in the third umpire's eyrie, the Indian Shavir Tarapore, previously showing the readiness of emergency services on standby, could relax a little.
Earlier, Dave Richardson, once an exalted stumper for South Africa but now the ICC's general manager of cricket, had been making a brave defence of efficacy of the DRS. This should come as no surprise, for if the seeds of the idea came from the current coach of India, Duncan Fletcher (and think of the irony in that), then the development, support and implementation of it has been Richardson's baby; and like a good father, he is protective. Umpires like it, he says, because it backs up their judgement more often than not and encourages them to make positive decisions without fear. That old chestnut about batsmen being given the benefit of the doubt, a convention that is no more enshrined in the laws of the game than the tea-time cucumber sandwiches, had been eradicated. Why, he argues, shouldn't the put-upon spear carriers get some benefit too.
It is difficult for hard-bitten bowlers to disagree with the sentiment, but Richardson has not got the balance right. As far as lbw is concerned, the system is not designed to give the best decisions, but to back the umpire in his decision making. It operates within parameters that are too broad when it comes to making judgments on the "umpires' call" ruling, the stumps effectively widened by a ball width either side and one in height.
There have always been officials whose trigger finger would make Billy the Kid a candidate for leader of the anti-gun lobby, but in general the best umpires had their own margin of error, taking as their zone, if you will, that area within the inside of the outer stumps and below the level of the bails. For a while, even with DRS, many still used this benchmark, but the more they have seen, the more cavalier it has got. Now it is open season and anomalies arise.
Let us take two contrasting examples, both England batsmen, one receiving benefit of the system, the other not. Kevin Pietersen was half forward but showing both middle and off stumps when the arm ball from the left-arm Abdur Rehman hit him above the knee roll. It looked to be both high and missing leg. Simon Taufel gave him out, and on Pietersen's referral, Hawk-Eye had the ball feathering the angle of the stumps. Hawk-Eye's margin of error means it may in reality have been missing completely, or indeed hitting more of the stumps; the former appeared more likely. Taufel had guessed. Pietersen left.
Later, Swann survived a delivery from Saeed Ajmal, which was deemed by Hawk-Eye to be hitting significantly more of the wicket than the one at Pietersen, because Steve Davis had given him not out. This situation is not helpful to batsmen, umpires or bowlers. For the good of the game, the whole thing needs tightening.
Source: http://www.guardian.co.uk/sport/blog/2012/feb/04/younus-khan-azhar-ali-england-udrs
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