Showing posts with label Graeme Smith. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Graeme Smith. Show all posts

October 23, 2009

What is Anthony Puttick?

It is a cricketer that captained the Cape Cobras. That would be the obvious explanation. But I think there’s more to it. In today’s post match interview for instance, it did not bare its fangs, barely opened its mouth.

The other day in Bangalore at the delayed toss, Puttick was all set to fly with cape, cobras, fangs, cruel intentions et al. His eyes were all over the place, his words were bouncing off the light towers. If it wasn’t obvious, the ladies in the box even mocked him.

Sure, on the face of it, Puttick does look weird. He took over from Graeme Smith.

But that’s just the surface tension. Deep down I’m sure Andrew Puttick is a normal South African, who does what they do best: Get knocked out in knock out games.

But then again, those fangs. And I just checked out some old Anthony Perkins’ pictures.


On Bored: It's not easy being Henry Davids

April 09, 2008

Swap Analysis.

How would it feel to switch loyalties before the final test match at Kanpur? That is, to spell the betrayal in words, become a South African supporter.

For one, you will cease to be part of cult support groups like the wonder bra camp, the Aussie Fanatics, English Barmy Army, Bharat Army, Chachcha ki fauj (Pakistani) or the Anonymous fan club that supports Sri Lankan, West Indies, New Zealand, Bangladeshi and Sehwag’s cricket.

By supporting South African cricket you will enter the realms of many World Cup knockouts that the Proteas lost, which on form they should have won.

But at Kanpur there won’t be any Duckworth Lewis equation to cause their downfall.

Also Alan Donald, Shaun Pollock and Lance Klusener don’t play the national side anymore.

Klusener however, is still pivotal in losing lost-games that he nearly wins – now for his ICL Club, the Kolkotta Tigers. But that’s Klusener for you. The nearly there man. Mr. Almost. Master Stop short!

Of course, baby faced Boucher the mathematician is still there. He’s partly the D/L man that got some vital statistics wrong. May be he overlooked the fine print next to an Asterix. And though he helped chase down a record 400 odd versus Australia, some demons never leave you.

Then there is Jacque Kallis. He’s been there. But somehow you don’t quite remember him from those worst of times that could have been the best of times.

It’s usually the beaten down faces of Cronje, Pollock, Klusener, Boucher, Gibbs. Right Gibbs isn’t there either, so that’s one choker less, whose droppings drop world cups no less.

But look back a few months, and the choking spirit is still intact. Graeme Smith and his not so merry men mucked up that World Cup twenty20 game against yours untruly, India.

That time though, there was no Kallis. And Smith went blue in the face when asked if they were, “Jaqued” without Kallis.

Kanpur though, is no T20 or one-day world cup game. It’s a test match of far less interest. The stakes, if any, are not Bollywoodesque . The IPL is round the corner. The iconic Indians will do their gig then.

If you are a punter, then it’s South Afrikaaa!

If you are India, for once in the series you should think team selection – ask yourself, what irks the South Africans most - Australians and leg spinners? So even if you can’t play Shane Warne and Rickie Ponting – what’s the next best irritation?

Piyush Chawla and your cockiest batsman. Attention: Yuvraj Singh. It’s the last test of a home series. Come on over for a second helping.

More than beating a winning team, the South Africans can’t beat a winning attitude.

And on second thoughts, I’ll stick with Bharat’s Badmashes. Hopefully, so will the team selection. Over to good Friday.