CricInfo Home
News Home

NEWS FOCUS
Rsa in Pak
NZ in India
Zim in Aus

Domestic
Other Series

Tony Lewis looks back at his first season away from the working side of cricket

It is mid-August already and, for me, a disappointing season. Why? This is the first season since 1955, when I made my first-class playing debut, that I have not been travelling round the county grounds of England and Wales. Whether behind a bat, or in front of a BBC microphone or camera, I have spent almost 45 years watching Test and county cricket from a position in line with the flight of the ball.

I always envied the spectator's role and its vaguely louche possibilities: a long-off deck-chair in the sunshine at Hove, the Patum Peperium on water biscuit sheltered by the wide brim of a Panama hat and the languid arm cosseting the goblet of wine in the shade.

I thought I might settle under the trees at extra cover at Worcester, or alongside the Jessop tavern in Bristol, or one of the sunny top decks at Edgbaston. Deep backward square-leg behind a pint in the old vice-presidents' stand at Sophia Gardens was a certainty. I planned all this.

Hedonism, I have to report, cannot exist alongside England cricket unless pleasure swells within you at the sight of disarray and disappointment. And to think, we started the summer with the first World Cup in this country since 1983!

Big bucks? No, how could that happen when the company we appoint to find eight global sponsors for cricket is an American-based company lacking offices or intelligence in most of the Commonwealth where the game is played? Going for worldwide sponsorship only proved that cricket is not global at all, which we knew in the first place. Thus we careered into the biggest British-based cricket event for decades without a brewer among the four main commercial backers.

I was cooling on this subject, however, by the time the World Cup teams arrived and at last the fun began. A round of golf with Shane Warne, who took the longest driving prize; a superb performance by New Zealand at Cardiff in beating the Australians. And we cherish great moments, especially at the end of the unforgettable contest: the tie between South Africa and Australia when Allan Donald and Lance Klusener lit a flare for sporting mega-confusion to which only Jean Van de Velde has since aspired. Great viewing, consummate fun: a worthy Australia won the final.

This spectator's treat was the crucially effective role of Steve Waugh. Alan McGilvray, the former Australian broadcaster, would always talk of a cricketer and his 'work', and that is how I see Steve Waugh. However stylish his batting may be, however delicious the leg glances, however punishing the punches off the back foot, however shaped for the big occasion, they are performances constructed by patience and hard work. La vie en bleus, the French would say: life in overalls. His captain's innings of 120 not out after coming in at 48 for three against South Africa at Headingley was very special.

The fun at Glamorgan vanished this season as soon as we lost our captain, Matthew Maynard, for seven weeks with a broken finger. But generally the scene was good as England went to Lord's one Test up over New Zealand. Then the fun became disarray and dejection.

Nothing in my career had prepared me for the scary experience of sitting at midwicket throughout a Test match watching England bat. As the Kiwi bowler was arriving at the point of delivery, the batsmen, without exception, were on the move with heads a'dipping, bodies a'lunging, feet a'shuffling into the most popular contortion which is produced by a half-step back followed by a full step forward, leaving the player over the exact spot on the popping crease where he had started but with his legs locked apart in no-go mode. Do not watch an eclipse with the naked eye, we were told. I would add: nor watch England bat from midwicket.

It was then I began to conclude that this first season as a non-working spectator was going to be most disappointing. My teams, Glamorgan and England, kept losing and looked awful. What has my more relaxing look at cricket told me? Firstly, we seem to be awash in bits-and-pieces cricketers because the one-day game has been elevated above its natural importance. We compound it with 10 one-day internationals next year. Whacking the ball about with a heavy bat on easy surfaces is not a bit of good in Tests against teams like South Africa and Australia, who have McGraths and Warne's, Pollocks and Donalds who test technique and temperament every ball.

Secondly, keeping happy and optimistic is a challenge for we spectators. So I look out for the youngest players and hope; I watch Channel 4's Roadshow on a Saturday in order to see that good work is going in at the grass roots: I am feeding a high interest savings account in my building society so that I can afford to travel to some of the 10 one-day internationals next summer and one or two of the seven Tests and also afford the tickets to get in.