SPORT'S LIFE LESSONS
One cricketer’s dream is another team’s nightmare
Unfortunately the first week after the Yuletide break was largely spent nursing my 15-month-old son, Freddie; an extended stretch of toxic, oozing nappies has led us – my wife and I – to ponder whether or not we allowed him to nibble on one Chocolate Orange segment, or mustard-covered chipolata sausage (et cetera), too many. All things in moderation is a good lesson to instil early on in his life, not that his parents have absorbed the message.
As a rare treat for our jaded, poorly boy, I switched on the TV and we sat, blissfully, on the sofa to take in the second Test between South Africa and England from a sun-soaked Newlands, at the foot of Cape Town's Table Mountain. It was the day after Ben Stokes had sensationally cracked the second-quickest double century in history (taking just 163 balls).
"It was painful for the English bowlers, and boring watching for all; these are the doldrums sessions which makes Test cricket such a turn off for some viewers"
Fred was transfixed, despite the action being rather dull. In response to England's colossal first-innings total of 629-6 declared the hosts were battling back admirably, and the batsmen were in control with the tourists' bowlers toiling in the heat with an old ball. Following the heroics of Stokes, and Jonathan Bairstow, who managed an unbeaten 150 alongside the aggressive Durham all rounder, the English team had hoped to rip through the South Africans, capitulators in the first Test.
Alas, there Alastair Cook's team were, 20 overs away from the third new ball, with the home side steady at 384-3 and opposing captain Hashim Amla carefully nudging his way to 201, ably assisted by Faf du Plessis. It was painful for the English bowlers, and boring watching for all; these are the doldrums sessions which makes Test cricket such a turn off for some viewers. With the batsmen settled and armed with a battered ball Cook knew a breakthrough wicket was unlikely for the next couple of hours. And so it proved.
While I was silently ruminating about how important cricket (and sport in general) is for teaching the pleasures of winning with humility and equally vital for understanding how best to lose – and how crucial it is to learn from defeats – news began to filter through about Pranav Dhanawade. This 15-year-old from Mumbai had scored an unbeaten 1,009 runs off 327 deliveries. Apparently he navigated the nervous 990s impressively, and smashed the previous record, which had stood for 117 years, by some 357 runs.
While England's bowlers laboured, trudging back to their mark and running in once more, fruitlessly, I couldn't help thinking they had it easy compared to young Pranav's opponents; how utterly demoralising to face his talent, and at such an impressionable age. In response they were skittled out for just 31. Not only were they physically humiliated, mentally they must have been frazzled; oh the futility of it all. I wouldn't be surprised if they chucked their bats and pads in the Mithi River and gave up the game for good.
Indeed, who really benefits from this achievement, apart from thrilled cricketing statisticians? Inevitably Dhanawade, the son of an auto-rickshaw driver, will be billed as India's next Sachin Tendulkar (the 'Little Master' has already been tweeting advice to the teenager. Good luck with that one.
So what message to pass on to little Freddie about the day's cricket? How about: one person's success is usually another's misery; don't forget about the losers, because they have feelings, too. And with that he filled his nappy once more. I was happy to switch off the TV. The toil is worth it, most of the time, I told myself.