by Camilla Rossiter
Thursday, February 7, 2002

It will go down as the defining moment of a hard-fought tour. Andy Flintoff yorks Javagal Srinath to win the final one-day match for England at Mumbai, then rips off his shirt and tears around the field waving it above his head à la Ryan Giggs. Arms aloft, he glows like a large, pink beacon in the night before being engulfed by his ecstatic team-mates.

The following day came news that Flintoff would not be disciplined for his shirtless celebration. Disciplined? Blimey, they should give the lad a medal. His strip did what two months of gruelling toil against Sachin and co. couldn't, and had English cricket hitting the headlines. There's always talk of how to make cricket more appealing to women, and Fred has come up with the answer.

Granted, appreciation - or otherwise - of the Flintoff torso is purely a personal matter. Something a little more toned or tanned would doubtless find wider appeal, but his celebration should still be celebrated. In a single move he highlighted the one glaring drawback of cricket: it's the only major sport where men don't show a bit of flesh.

Footballers and rugby players get to show off their shapely thighs. Tennis players can barely restrain themselves from going the extra mile, tearing off their shirts and chucking them into the crowd. Athletes, from sprinters to rowers, not only display as much of themselves as is decently possible, but also sport such skin-tight shorts that no guesswork is needed to visualise the rest.

And then you have the cricketers.

A modest bunch, not only do they encase themselves in trousers, jumpers and long-sleeved shirts, but just for good measure they strap on pads, helmets, gloves and armguards as well. The only bit of actual live cricketer you're likely to glimpse is the odd nose poking through the grille of a helmet or the back of a sunburnt neck.

Of course there are always exceptions. A classic moment came on England's Ashes tour of 1998-99, when the camera homed in on Alec Stewart out in the middle, just at the moment he had dropped his trousers to adjust his box. Viewers back in Blighty were suddenly treated to an early morning close-up of the Gaffer's buttocks, prompting a startled David Gower to remark: "Well, that should put you all off your bacon and eggs." Indeed.

But, such thrills aside, cricketers rarely get their kit off in public. Consequently, in England at least, they aren't seen as glamorous in the way footballers are. After all, it's hard to be sexy when you go around dressed like the Michelin Man. Women can go potty over stick-thin Tim Henman or stocky Will Carling and no-one turns a hair. But cricketers? No. And all because they never get the chance to show off their assets.

So, come on boys. Next time you clinch a win let's have a few more celebrations in the Flintoff style. Enough of the brisk handshakes and quick jogs round the field. Lose those inhibitions, lose those shirts. And gain a few more female fans.

Camilla Rossiter is an editorial assistant with Wisden.com.

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