CRICKET PARALYSIS

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 624, 28 March 1929, Page 6

CRICKET PARALYSIS

Chapman’s visit to New Zealand is a brisk reminder that the Tests are over and done with in Australia, and that it will be another four years before the battles of 1928-29 are renewed on Australian soil. The English captain, who is always assured of a cordial welcome in Maoriland, has already referred in modest terms to the outstanding features of the Englishmen’s tour, but possibly there is still room for a few more observations from the neutral viewpoint of New Zealanders who have closely followed the present series of Tests. It can be-said that, if the violent controversies and bitter barracking which characterised the-recent series of Tests are part of the price that has to be paid for participation in Test cricket, New Zealand is better as it is on the outskirts of the battleground, with periodical visits from happy-go-lucky amateurs, aided by a sprinkling of professional talent, in touring teams from overseas. New Zealand had a taste of the Test match atmosphere last year when an Australian team visited the Dominion and proceeded to play with the wearisome fervour of cricket fanatics to boost along the claims of each member" of the party toward Test match recognition this season. The tour did little to help New Zealand cricket; worse still, it infected our own Plunket Shield players with the insidious microbe, of cricket paralysis, which caused a regular epidemic of stonewalling and laborious batting in the recent unsatisfactory series of unfinished Shield matches. It may be that the lively days of Trumper, Ranji and our own modestly mentioned Reece and Dacre are becoming a thing of the past in big cricket played out grimly to a finish, as is done in Australia these times. The cult of the mechanical batsman and the “theory” bowler has shown us how the modern craze for averages and record-breaking in sport is accomplished; but it has taken away a great deal of the charm aud sporting spirit of the game. Big cricket to-day is a business, not a sport. So long as the public pays, the laborious business will go on. But recent outbreaks of exasperated barracking and unwholesome partisan comment are not a good sign. Marathon cricket reached its zenith in the last Test, and only a popular win for the Australians eased the fierce state of acute tension which the previous matches engendered. A time limit (which has its disadvantages) may help to improve future Tests, but what seems to be badly wanted in cricket (in New Zealand, as elsewhere) is a revival of the old spirit of enterprise and aggressive attack by batsmen and bowlers alike. Keeping the runs down and keeping one’s wicket up may stop the other side from winning, but the essentials of honest cricket are to get runs or get out, and to get wickets, or give the ball to someone who can.