Umpire burlesque

The issue of cricket’s morality conundrum when it comes to walking and low catches in my most recent post, is not an easy one to leave alone. Like facing gentle outswing, it teases me to fiddle outside off stump and not just let it go through to the keeper.

One thing that most cricketers will readily admit to is the fact that in some cases, you genuinely do not know if you’ve nicked it or caught a low catch cleanly. Those instances happen from time to time and it is perfectly acceptable to leave that to the umpire’s discretion. In the case of a low catch, if you indicate any uncertainty, it normally goes in the batsman’s favour anyway.

If I was to take an ultra-cynical approach, could it be that players like Lara and Gilchrist were visionary enough to cultivate an aura of honesty that also worked in their favour? If you were known to be a walker, would umpires be more prepared to ignore their own instincts and wait that fraction of a second longer to see if you walk? If you didn’t tuck the bat under the arms and start that move towards the pavilion, would you possibly dodge a bullet or two because the umpire might think “he mustn’t have nicked it because he hasn’t walked?”

To be honest, I don’t think for one moment that either Gilly or Lara have ever been that disingenuous. But it’s not a bad one for the conspiracy theorists is it? It tends to work better for wicketkeepers too because they can also trade on that honesty when appealing for catches.

I suppose it only really works if you play at a level where you can build a reputation for honesty. Or if you play in a local competition where the umpires and opposition teams know you well after many years and therefore you can exploit that reputation as ‘Honest Joe’.

I’ve done it myself a few times when I’ve deliberately not appealed for marginal decisions and then really gone up in full voice for a closer one that is at a crucial time. It’s not exactly dishonest but there was certainly a sense of orchestrating the moment to capitalise on that build-up of goodwill and trust.

On the other hand, there are always those cricketers who trade on the ‘numbers theory’. Keep appealing, keep acting bitterly disappointed and eventually you know you’ll get one. Even as a batsman, there are times when you’ve survived a few close shouts and you just know in the back of your mind that if you get rapped on the pads again, you’re history. The fielding team can sense this tension too and appeal with more conviction. Perhaps the really good umpires sense this and treat each new appeal on its own merits.

That’s what makes cricket such a magnificent game. So many sub-plots happening and so many mind games being played on the periphery. What other sport has the time to allow these tactics to ferment, during the space of an over, a session, a day or even a career? I’ve come across plenty of wily campaigners who go to great lengths to set up an umpire or opponent with some strategy that has been masterfully executed.

I recall one bowler who kept telling the umpire how he admired the batsman for whipping the ball so beautifully off middle stump and what a great talent this batsman was. Even comparisons with the peerless Azharuddin were mentioned by this charitable and generous fellow. What a splendid sportsmanlike thing to hear on a cricket field. Not long after, a ball that was sliding down leg hit the pads and the lbw verdict was all-too predictable. “Azharuddin my a**e” was all I heard from the gleeful bowler as I trudged off disconsolately!!