Time to Make Cricket the Only Religion on the Subcontinent

Just down the corridor from me at the Hotel Plaza in Havana is the suite where George Herman Ruth – Babe or the Bambino to baseball fans – stayed 90 years ago. It's a shrine of sorts to the first of baseball's marquee names, a supreme slugger who captivated fans and divided opinion wherever he went. In so many ways, Ruth was an iconic symbol of pre-Depression America, just as Sachin Tendulkar became the face of post-liberalization India. But while the Babe was a larger-than-life character in every sense, Tendulkar's time in the spotlight has been notable mainly for the near-complete absence of controversy and an almost painful shyness.

Baseball runs through the veins of people on this island. While a small number of top players have defected to the major leagues across the water, the vast majority of those who have played for a wonderfully talented amateur side have lived by the Teófilo Stevenson adage that a few million dollars is nothing compared to the love of eight million compañeros.

Having just covered the climactic stages of the ICC World Twenty20, it is enough to make you wonder why Cuba is nowhere in the picture when it comes to cricket. Certainly, there is an awareness that such a sport exists. At immigration I was grilled on account of being a journalist, until the young man asking the questions inquired which topics I covered. When I said sport, and cricket in particular, he took a step back and imitated a big hit that would have gone a fair distance over cow corner.

Given how the Chappell brothers played baseball as a winter sport, and how naturally athletic Cubans are, they'd have a crack Twenty20 outfit in no time with the requisite guidance. That, in turn, leads to the ICC and promotion of the game worldwide. The sooner they reduce the farce of a 50-over World Cup to a manageable four weeks or less with fewer teams the better. For spreading the gospel, the only format that works is Twenty20. Rugby realized that nearly two decades ago with Sevens and cricket has to follow suit if it harbors serious ambitions of being an Olympic sport.

Test cricket may be the pinnacle when it comes to skill and even drama but it's never going to rival the slam-bang version for popularity. To expect that would be to expect Vivaldi to outsell the Beatles. There's a place for the purist but snobbery is something the game can ill afford if it wants to be globally relevant.

Ideally, the World Cup would be restricted to just the top eight or 10 teams (once the anomaly of a tournament called the Champions Trophy disappears from the calendar) and the World Twenty20 could then be thrown open to more teams. Had Afghanistan or Kenya been able to play this time, we might have seen even more upsets. In a 50-over game, a team like Kenya wouldn't have a prayer against Australia or South Africa but in the abbreviated form anything's possible. You only have to look at Fiji's magnificent Sevens side and the emerging Kenyans to see how much deeper the talent pool becomes when an additional element of chance is introduced.

Perhaps in the future, teams touring the Caribbean could play a one-off Twenty20 game at a non-traditional venue such as Cuba or the Dominican Republic. Plant the seed and see how it germinates. Unlike many of the world's big banks, the ICC and some of the individual boards certainly have enough cash to spare.

Fortunately, though, money isn't everything. The sweetest aspect of the World T20 was the early exit of Australia, India and England, the three countries that seem to regard the Future Tours Program as some kind of personal fiefdom. While it could be said that the security situations in Pakistan and Sri Lanka have prevented more matches being scheduled there, it still doesn't explain the reluctance to invite them. The Pakistanis were once Asia's biggest draw card, while the Lankans have reached the final in two of the past three global events.

A recent study revealed that the Indian Premier League has already become one of the world's most lucrative sporting properties but it was probably their exclusion from it that provided one of the spurs for Pakistan's players on the world stage. The players who had their contracts torn up, including a certain Shahid Khan Afridi (Deccan Chargers), had a point to prove and they did so to thrilling effect. Like the Cubans, the Pathans have a natural aptitude for ball sports – the squash Khans, Jahangir and Jansher, both hail from Nawankali, Umar Gul's home town – and it would be foolish to underestimate the role cricket could play in keeping restless youth away from guns and other malignant influences.

The Taliban may have succeeded in shutting down girls' schools and hairdressing salons but if the reaction to the World Twenty20 triumph is any indicator they will need to fight a thousand years or longer to eradicate cricket's grip on the nation. "It means everything to us and our nation," said Younus Khan, another Pathan, and that's not hyperbole. Given the game's power to unite and the tendency of religious leaders to divide, maybe it's time to abolish all other faiths and make cricket the only religion on the subcontinent. Once that happens, maybe we can send a few missionaries over to Cuba.

Bangladesh's Long-awaited Series Win May Impact on Future of Test Cricket

It's taken them nearly nine years and 61 Tests, but Bangladesh finally have a series victory to savor against a major Test-playing entity. Unfortunately, the circumstances – Chris Gayle and friends on the picket line, and unfavorable TV times – were such that few outside of Dhaka and Chittagong noticed. There though, they'll be talking of Shakib Al Hasan's unbeaten 96 for years to come.

The number 96 has always had a special resonance in the history of cricket in Bangladesh. Exactly 50 years ago, on one of those matting pitches where batting could be such an ordeal, Neil Harvey played perhaps the greatest innings seen in what was formerly East Bengal. Mohammad Quamruzzaman, a veteran journalist, described it on the Banglacricket website.

"Harvey's innings is the best I have ever seen," he wrote. "When he was at 96, Fazal [Mahmood] took the new ball and displayed it to be the crowd in his raised right arm. As he started his run up, a low roar from the galleries began taking form. At the moment of his delivery broke Harvey's wicket [sic], the roar became all pervading. A moment of pure inspiration."

Shakib wasn't facing anyone of Fazal's caliber, but he did have the weight of history to contend with. Bangladesh had previous when it came to snatching defeat from victory's open mouth. Ricky Ponting's bloodyminded century thwarted them at Fatullah in 2006, and three years earlier, it was an epic knock from Inzamam-ul-Haq that spared Pakistani blushes in Multan. After 52 defeats and just one victory against Zimbabwe in 59 Tests, their fans could have been forgiven for some pessimism at the start of the series in the Caribbean.

West Indies cricket, though, is a shambles. There was a time when their Test discards – Colin Croft, Wayne Daniel, Franklyn Stephenson and Collis King – would have routed most sides on Earth with plenty to spare. The depth of talent on the islands and in Guyana was the envy of the world. Now watching them is like watching a car careering off course. Even with the best players in the XI, and not on strike as they were during the Bangladesh series, they've been wretched in the Test arena, with only a victory against England to celebrate in recent times. The record over the past five years speaks of four wins in 48 Tests, only one of them overseas [from 26 games].

When India last toured the Caribbean, Greg Chappell spoke witheringly about how the West Indies had forgotten how to win. When they subsequently won four one-day games on the trot, his words were rammed back down his throat. Those that watched the West Indies in their prime though, and I count myself blessed to be one of them, could understand where his contempt came from though. Most of the present-day players are a disgrace to a glorious legacy, mediocrities pumped full of attitude and arrogance who have absolutely nothing to strut around about. When Viv Richards swaggered to the crease, you stood back and watched in awe. When Marlon Samuels did it, you just wanted to slap him.

Bangladesh's victory has to be viewed in that context. The West Indies were fielding a patchwork-quilt side, but Bangladesh too were without one of their most influential performers for the second Test. Mashrafe Mortaza was appointed captain for the series after Mohammad Ashraful's recent brain-fades with the bat, but he pulled up lame after bowling just 6.3 overs in the first Test. It was left to Mahmudullah, one of the debutants, to take eight for 110 as West Indies were spun to a standstill like a fly in the spider's lair.

Building on that 95-run triumph was always going to be the big test. When they slumped to 67 for four in pursuit of 215, the ghosts of Multan and other disasters would have been tapping on the shoulders of those in the dressing room. But in Shakib, Bangladesh have a truly special player. At 22, he's still prone to the odd impetuous mistake, but when he's fully switched on, he's a quality left-arm spinner and a batsman of real talent.

Unlike Ashraful, who hasn't given up that cat-on-a-hot-tin-roof temperament despite playing for nearly a decade, Shakib radiates poise. Asked to lead the side in Mortaza's absence, Shakib contributed eight wickets before sealing it with a six over long-on. And while he provided the stardust, the equally mature Raqibul Hasan glued the innings together, and a 106-run stand finally saw off West Indies' frayed second string.

This result will be viewed in two drastically different ways. Some will renew the call for Test cricket to be a two-tier game, with West Indies now in serious danger of joining Bangladesh and Zimbabwe in the basement. Others will see it as vindication of the faith shown by the game's administrators in Bangladesh cricket. Reality, as always, is somewhere in the murky grey between the two extremes. Bangladesh haven't progressed as they would have liked – Jamie Siddons isn't the only coach who's been tearing his hair out at times – but it's also undeniable that players like Shakib need more exposure against the very best.

In that regard, India's attitude is especially disappointing. Having long been treated as the game's unwanted stepchild by the established powers, India are now guilty of the same arrogance and neglect. Though they have toured Bangladesh thrice since 2000, there has been no sign of an invite the other way. The refrain in private is: "Who'd be interested?", eerily similar to Australian administrators' views back in the day when an Indian tour wasn't the cash cow that it is now.

Shakib's Jack Sparrow-heist in the Caribbean won't shift the boundaries as far as India and others are concerned, but it will be an enormous fillip for those back home that watched every ball into the wee hours. The roar of delight that would have accompanied the winning hit might even have drowned out the clouds that thundered overhead. Having taken a big baby-step, it's now up to Test cricket's toddlers to mature, and with talent pools shrinking in the Caribbean and New Zealand, we need to give them that time.

World Twenty20 Has Given Cricket the Wake-up Call It So Badly Needed

What a couple of weeks it's been for cricket. To see the excitement, the crowds, and the close finishes convinces me this format has a huge future, so long as we don't overdo it. In 50-over cricket you can watch the beginning of the match, then come back several overs later to catch the end. But the games in the World Twenty20 have been so gripping you hardly dare leave your seat. Cricket needs to compete with other sports, and Twenty20's development is the wake-up call the game needs to do just that.

It's been interesting to note, despite all the talk, that specialist Twenty20 players haven't really materialized. Sure, there are always different types of shot that come into the game – although Tillakaratne Dilshan's scoop has been played before in Australia – and you need them to unsettle the bowler from time to time. But the players who have succeeded most are the ones with the soundest techniques. Even in Twenty20 you need to be able to hit straight down the ground.

In fact, batters are forced to improve their technique because they have to score on both sides of the wicket. In a Test you can get away with scoring predominantly on one side, because it's all about wearing the bowlers down. But Twenty20 doesn't allow that luxury. You're forced to attack lines of bowling that you could otherwise ignore. And you can only do that with a sound technique. It was no surprise to me that Jacques Kallis did so well before South Africa's tactics went awry on Friday.

I wasn't too disappointed with England, because their team fabric looks good and they were playing with real enthusiasm. Paul Collingwood's captaincy is improving, although I'm worried about the effect it has on his batting. But overall some of England's decision-making was poor, and I believe that goes back to county cricket, where the lack of intensity means there's no real need to develop that side of your game. It was also clear, both against Holland and West Indies, that they lacked hitters down the order. Luke Wright impresses me with his verve and freshness, but his explosiveness should be used lower down, not wasted up front. It seemed crazy that Dimitri Mascarenhas wasn't picked against West Indies, when he's exactly the kind of guy who can do a job down the order.

I would not have had James Foster in that side, either. I'm a big Foster fan, because his grit and fight are what every team needs. But England lost matches because of the lack of runs down the order. Why move Matt Prior up the order in 50-over cricket, then leave him out in Twenty20? As Chris Gayle himself said, it's illogical. Foster's two stumpings were smart, but most keepers would have pulled off at least one of them. People fall too easily into the trap of getting carried away with the details and not looking at the bigger picture.

One player I was impressed with was Adil Rashid. I wouldn't necessarily have picked him for this tournament, because leg-spinners need to learn how to flight the ball and use the crease without being under too much pressure. Twenty20 doesn't allow you the space to develop those crafts, but Rashid at least showed he's an exciting prospect who can field well and bat too. If England play two spinners in any of the Ashes Tests, Rashid should play with Graeme Swann ahead of Monty Panesar.

So where does Twenty20 go from here? I believe the format will have a knock-on effect on other forms of the game and I hope the administrators think clearly about how best to harness the excitement and the fact that new fans are coming through the gates. I've written before about how Test cricket could become a limited-overs format, but I think the first obvious effect could be on the 50-over game.

There are a number of possibilities. They could make it 40 overs a side, or split the 50 overs into two lots of 25. They could even allow teams to divide up the overs into two innings as they see fit. The scope then for new tactics would bring an extra dimension to the game.

What is clear is that there is a place for Twenty20 in the public appetite. We went right the way through the Indian Premier League and straight into this tournament, but still the crowds are pouring in. Forget the old-fashioned types: Twenty20 can enrich cricket beyond all our expectations.

Counties Abandon 50-over Cricket

The demise of 50-over international cricket has moved closer following the first-class counties' decision to abandon domestic 50-over cricket next season in favor of one-day formats over 20 and 40 overs.

The future of the 50-over game will be reviewed by the International Cricket Council after the 2011 World Cup but the counties have refused to wait for its possible demise, voting 13-5 to abandon it forthwith. The counties will claim once again they are trailblazers – now predicting the demise of 50-over cricket just as they also launched Twenty20 before India introduced the IPL and turned it into a lucrative, high-profile event.

But the England and Wales Cricket Board believes domestic cricket should mirror as closely as possible that played at international level, and it is less than a week before England face Australia in the first of seven 50-over matches in the NatWest Series, with 10 more due against Australia and Pakistan next summer.

The argument that swung the counties was the example of South Africa, who are ranked No1 in one-day cricket despite not playing 50-over game at domestic level. That has given them the confidence to state that 40-over cricket, played under similar regulations, will be a satisfactory breeding ground for 50-over players.

Giles Clarke, who is on business in Paraguay,, the ECB chairman, said: "Coaches reported through their county votes that the leading one-day team in world cricket – South Africa – do not mirror 50 overs at domestic level and that, provided power plays and fielding restrictions were the same as the international format, the skills required were very similar."

The Board plans to expand the amount of 50-overs cricket played by the England Lions – England's shadow side – to try to make up for their lack of experience in this format while it remains part of the international calendar.Counties have voted to limit overseas players to two in next summer's revamped domestic Twenty20 tournament, stepping back from ambitious talk of four overseas players per county in response to the global recession which has demanded a more cautious financial outlook.

Clarke was gung-ho about the decision, saying: "There has never been a better time for English-qualified players to make a name for themselves in a tournament creating great interest."

Twenty20 will be played in North and South divisions of nine, with the top four in each pool qualifying for the knockout stages. At 40-overs level, counties will be split into three groups of seven, with the 18 first-class counties likely to be supplanted by Ireland, Scotland and a Minor Counties X1.

There will be much delight – tinged with suspicion, because the details are yet to be finalized – at the ECB's announcement that "the LV county championship has been given priority in the fixture program". It is likely that championship matches will take priority between Monday-Thursday, finally bringing a more coherent pattern to the fixture list.

England will host three countries next season. Bangladesh will play two npower Tests and three ODIs between 27 May and 22 June, Australia will play five ODIs between 22 June and 3 July and Pakistan will play four Tests, five ODIs and two Twenty20 internationals from 29 July to 21 September. Australia will also face Pakistan in two T20s and two Tests from 5-25 July.

West Indies Back-up Chris Gayle's Claims on the Future of Test Cricket

Tell Ravi Bopara and Alastair Cook that English Test cricket had just suffered one of its most demoralizing days for years and they will not believe you. Both had the pride of England hundreds to sustain them during a desperately downcast day.

But had they wanted to take a wider look – and as two successful young England batsmen why should they? – they would have gazed upon a game undergoing one of its periodic collapses of confidence. As Twenty20 grows in strength, however, the fear is that a collapse of confidence will soon become a total breakdown.

Officially, 5,000 spectators turned up at The Riverside yesterday, but to arrive at such a figure seemed to demand a degree in creative accountancy. It felt more like 3,000 — the lowest first-day crowd in modern times.

To add to the gloom, the West Indies captain, Chris Gayle, led his team into the second Test with an extraordinary admission that he would not be all that sad if Test cricket died completely, to be replaced by an endless diet of Twenty20. There have been better rallying cries: the West Indies looked entirely uninspired and England finished the day on 302 for two.

The coach, John Dyson, would not be drawn on whether Gayle's remarks had a bearing on the side's performance yesterday. He said: "I've not had a chance to talk to Chris about what was reported in the papers. All we're focused on in the dressing room is this match."

Bopara, with three hundreds in successive Tests, so emulating the feat of his Essex mentor, Graham Gooch, was in no mood to downgrade his achievement. "A Test century is a Test century," he said. "It wasn't the noise I got at Lord's after getting a hundred but inside it means a lot for me to get a Test hundred for England. It doesn't matter if it is in front of thousands and thousands or ten people. A hundred is a hundred."

But even Bopara could not be bothered with another individualistic celebration after his latest 100. He gave us a bow-and-arrow routine in Barbados, and acted out the inscribing of his name on the honors board at Lord's. This time he just raised his bat to a polite ripple of applause.

He did provide some optimism for the future. "Playing in the IPL was amazing," he said. "It was a great experience. I would love to do it again. But Test cricket is still the pinnacle of the game. The feeling I get when I get to 100, there is no better feeling. As a young boy I always wanted to play Test cricket. You want to see if you can do what your heroes did."

It remains to be seen if the next generation will feel the same way.

Wally Hammond's Sad Reprise Was One of Cricket's Many Bad Judgments

it is a regret of mine that I missed Tom "Curly" Richardson, one of our greatest fast bowlers, by just 17 years – not really such a long time when we fancifully span cricket's expansive history. In 1912 his body was found – though never quite explained – on a French hillside. By then it was physically unrecognizable from the well‑muscled figure who with Bill Lockwood had regularly cheered and uplifted the Oval crowds.

He was only 41, though the decline had been going on for several years. The cheeks were already puffy and the eyes listless. He carried too much weight at the midriff and moved with the sluggish reluctance of a man who had perhaps lost the will to live. Tom no longer looked, even remotely, like a Test performer, feared for his pace, liked for his good nature.

The mystery of his death led inevitably to rumors of suicide, the drastic course of a few of his mind-weary contemporaries. But the evidence was far too sketchy and should be discounted. Despite the absence of medical records and the findings of any kind of inquest, Richardson did appear to die from natural causes. Ill-health, increasing arthritis and an unhappy domestic life may have combined to make him thoroughly miserable but not to the extent of killing himself.

As someone who lives some miles from Surrey, I find it hard to determine why exactly the swarthy Tom, a well‑built man of kindly thoughts and Gypsy blood, became one of my posthumous heroes. It must be because of the well‑intentioned though ill‑judged decision to make a single guest appearance after he had retired as a Surrey player. He fell for the sentimental brandishments of Somerset's loquacious Aussie exile, Sammy Woods, who set him up in a Bath pub and then persuaded him to play for Somerset against the touring Australians.

Curly's appearance was a disaster, mocking as it did the fast bowler's bountiful career and all those wickets he earned by sweat, natural prowess and instinctive, pacy technique. He was introduced as second change, something of a demotion for a former England opening bowler, and took no wickets in 13 overs of medium-paced dross. He shouldn't have played. Sammy Woods' heart may have been in the right place but the Richardson comeback was seen by many as a misplaced gimmick. Tom himself knew it was a mistake and hurried away at the close to polish the glasses and pour the first pints. His erstwhile Surrey mate, another exile, the leg tweaker and assertive Test bat Len Braund, had told him unwisely that he had nothing to lose by that belated single appearance. It must also have appealed to have one final go, however unrealistically, against the country where he had twice toured. Yet fallibility and bad judgment remain an absorbing feature of the human condition.

Was there ever anything more embarrassing than Wally Hammond's solitary match in 1951, when no longer physically fit, to play against Somerset as part of an ill-advised membership drive for Gloucestershire? He had already retired from the game, with no intention of ever playing for his county again. His stay at the crease, following the warmest of romantic welcomes as he strolled to the wicket, was brief and cruelly misplaced. He kept playing and missing; the coordination had gone. Up in the stands, the members and his once doting fans fidgeted. The Somerset slow bowler Horace Hazell, who had always idolized Hammond, swore that he tried to encourage him with half-volleys. "When Wally could do nothing with them, I shed private tears." England's great batsman and captain had made a serious mistake in agreeing to play. When mercifully he was out, the big crowd, still palpably affectionate, was silent and only wished he had left them with merely his wondrous memories.

Some, with reactionary propensities, continued for years to cite Hammond's one-time colleague Charlie Parker for what they saw as his unforgivable demonstration of public anger. That was for what happened in a hotel lift when incensed by too many slights and snubs, he grabbed Sir Pelham Warner by the neck and had to be subdued from landing a haymaker on English cricket's most revered grandee.

The cricketing regrets, not just Tom Richardson's, multiplied, right up to the time of Mike Atherton's mischievous exploration of the Test ball's seam and Andrew Flintoff's amphibious nocturnal adventures. Perhaps the saddest I experienced was during a Cheltenham festival, where I found myself talking to a blind man for whom a companion was giving a running commentary. "How I love cricket and desperately wish I could see the play." He was George Shearing, the great jazz pianist who liked to be taken to a Gloucestershire match during summer visits to this country.

Paul Collingwood's Time Off Restored His Form and His Reputation at the Champions Trophy

The art of doing nothing is invariably frowned upon. The demands made upon England's cricketers are just a reflection of modern society where, in every walk of life, every second must forever become more productive in case we all reach old age with the sudden realization that while we were lazing around every so often, we had somehow become poorer than Azerbaijan.After England announced an exhausting international schedule for 2010, it is relevant to note that the two players most responsible for their unexpected victory in the opening match of the Champions Trophy – a six-wicket win against Sri Lanka at the Wanderers – are the ones who have been allowed the rare luxury of a few days off.A couple of rounds of golf in Scotland and a few days at home with the family is not everybody's idea of a perfect rest cure, but it has done the trick for Paul Collingwood. The Scottish Tourist Board could make capital out of the way that Collingwood's brief trip north of the border has restored his vigour and silenced suggestions, for the moment at least, that his career is heading down the 18th fairway.Collingwood is a driven man, and rest goes against his instincts, but his vigorous 46 from 51 balls, with three hearty leg-side sixes, the first against the inswing of Nuwan Kulasekara that might have been designed for him, was a reminder of an uncluttered style that has served England well. On Friday night at least, this did not look like a declining batsman, at 33, living on borrowed time.Collingwood was reluctant to over-egg the benefits, aware of the formidable challenge that awaits in England's second group game, against South Africa, under the lights today at Supersport Park, but it was clear that the rest had not just healed his body, it had also cleared his mind. "People will put two and two together I guess,'' he said. "I don't know if it is coincidence but I feel pretty good at the moment and the body feels good. I was at a low point a fortnight ago, but England made a strong decision and I have felt the benefit.''James Anderson was another England player rested during the NatWest Series, and he was comfortably the pick of the attack against Sri Lanka, his 3 for 20 in 9.3 overs, to follow his four wickets against Australia at Trent Bridge, amounting to his best one-day sequence for two years. It was a gleeful new-ball assault by Anderson and Graham Onions, another fast bowler lightly worked of late, that laid the foundations for England's victory, as Sri Lanka were reduced to 17 for 4.If England must give players time off then the only conclusion, as their former captain Michael Vaughan trenchantly remarked last week, is that they are playing too much cricket. But Vaughan is trapped in an identical mindset, having just negotiated two jobs as a cricket agent and on Test Match Special – jobs that should be incompatible.By melting away the stress, Collingwood and Anderson became more productive, happier and more skillful in their work. For a country that works more hours than any in Europe, and that denigrates part-time working, it is a lesson that will not be easily accepted. The ECB should accept it – by announcing immediately that they will send an experimental squad to Bangladesh for the tour in February and March. Such a prospect would immediately lift England's spirits before a prolonged Test and one-day tour of South Africa that begins next month.Rather than castigate the ECB for their overloaded fixture list, it is better to remember that the ECB's approach is merely a reflection of wider society, where assets must forever be productive and pleasures must forever be sought, to the point where the benefits are no longer evident.For English cricket to fail to maximize its revenue would be a decision against the cultural mood and would require independent, perhaps even maverick, leadership. Increased revenue has brought vast improvements in the standards of English grounds, but the benefits of that are limited if the players have lost their edge and the crowd's appetite is dulled by repetition.The art of doing nothing has always had a central role in cricket's traditions. The championship is largely supported by an elderly clientele who are quite content to pick up a crossword, or just stare into space, whenever the game reaches a lull, satisfied that the game's gentle rhythms have removed all distractions.

Hand in Glove With Spirit of Cricket

I don't know about you, but I always picture the Spirit of Cricket as a home counties middle-order batsman. Rotund, all polite smiles, the faint whiff of mildew and a weakness against the short stuff, a loyal and popular servant, yet not quite top class. A purveyor of elegant cameos, I imagine, whose cover drive would have conjured an approving wheeze from John Arlott on Sunday afternoon TV in the 1970s, especially if it was unfurled during a battle of wits with "that wily old fox" Peter Sainsbury, the balding Hampshire off-spinner. In short, I imagine the Spirit of Cricket looks something like AGE Ealham (Kent).It's a generational thing, I'm sure. Younger cricket followers in all likelihood think of the Spirit of Cricket as something altogether more modern and dynamic, a switch-hitting CGI ghoul, freshly risen from the loam, who smashes through the door of the changing room using his mighty willow, then menaces a group of bikini-clad Twenty20 cheerleaders with a cackling cry of, "Now, that's what I call a stumping opportunity". But that's enough about Sir Allen Stanford.I guess the Australian Spirit of Cricket is an altogether different spectral presence, too – one with unabashed body hair, exuding manly odors, chewing gum and squinting into a burning sun even when it's an overcast afternoon in Chelmsford. I should think that when the English Spirit of Cricket waddles self-deprecatingly into view looking down at the ground while modestly acknowledging any applause with a vague oscillation of its bat, the Australian Spirit of Cricket studies the pear-shaped silhouette, spits, readjusts its box and growls, "Strewth, what happened to you mate? Did you blow all the housekeeping money at the pie stall?"The Spirit of Cricket has been summoned frequently in the past week. It has been evoked to castigate first England and latterly Australia, and in particular Ricky Ponting who is – according to Duncan Fletcher – barely on nodding terms with the ghost of an idea of the notion of a hint of the Spirit of Cricket.It is the glove business that has caused the fuss. All week people have been asking if what England did in Cardiff was wrong. This is a tricky question to answer. Because at the top level of cricket the line between gamesmanship and cheating is a fine one. So fine, in fact, that the people who can pinpoint exactly when an action crosses over it are rarer than photos of Shane Warne with natural hair. Among those who play to the highest standard the watchword is simple: "Others cheat. I am professional."And that to me is what was truly galling about England's final-session shenanigans on Sunday – the complete schoolboy amateurishness of it. Andrew Strauss went to Radley and all I can say is if that is the sort of sharp practice they are teaching in English public schools these days then there's little wonder Britain is no longer capable of marching into somebody else's country and forcing the indigenous population to wear ill-fitting suits and make us all a fried breakfast.A few years ago Jim Smith ripped into Robbie Savage over the Welsh footballer's alleged diving with the words, "We have all seen players who were clever at getting penalties, but he is not even clever." The implication was that if a sportsman is going to cheat he should at least do it with a bit of guile and finesse. This is a fair point. After all, cat burglars and conmen are often the heroes of books and films, but nobody would have liked Raffles if he'd been a mugger. The same applies to the England cricket team. If you are going to piddle about wasting time, at least do it in the sort of crafty manner that will allow people to wink at each other and say "You see that? He's pulled a right fast one there, hasn't he?"Back in 1963 at Wembley Stadium British heavyweight Henry Cooper knocked Muhammad Ali (then still known as Cassius Clay) on to the seat of pants with a left hook straight to what Damon Runyon would have called "the old kazoo". When the bell for the end of the round sounded seconds later the future Greatest staggered back to his stool markedly groggy. In his corner celebrated trainer and bucket man Angelo Dundee went to work and – lo and behold – discovered a rip in his fighter's glove. A trip to the dressing room to get another pair bought Ali precious extra time to recover.In the following round he opened a gash above Cooper's eye and won on a TKO. In his next fight Ali defeated Sonny Liston to become heavyweight champion of the world. Forty-five years later, Dundee admitted in his autobiography that he had made the slit himself with his thumbnail and, in all likelihood, altered the course of pugilistic history.These days we rarely see the England cricket team when they are not wearing boxing gear. Perhaps if they took time out from posing around hitting the pads in front of the photographers and studied the history of the sport instead, Sunday's feeble antics would have been avoided and the Spirit of Cricket could have kept its feet up, whatever size and shape it is.

Cricket Calls for Tough New Laws on Ticket Touts

The England and Wales Cricket Board has called for tough new laws against ticket touts, after private investigators employed by the board tracked down more than 1,900 "black market" tickets for the ICC World Twenty20 made available through internet sites such as eBay.

It is understood that the government, which up until now has favoured a voluntary solution to the problem of ordinary fans being priced out of major sporting events, is increasingly considering legislation as an option.

In its submission to a government ­consultation that closed this week, the ECB said it was forced to take drastic action to deal with the thousands of tickets bought up by both organized touting operations and so-called "bedroom touts".

It is understood that more than 1,900 tickets have been investigated, traced through 400 different sellers on eBay. Although the sellers are often anonymous, the ECB said its investigators had been able to track them down to their home address and cancel their tickets.

In a strongly worded letter, they are offered the option of a refund if they return the ticket promptly. But they are told that anyone attempting to use them will be ejected. If the ticket holder is subsequently found to have sold their tickets, the ECB said it would take them to court.

In its submission, which has been seen by the Guardian, the ECB said it had proved that websites were unwilling to engage in finding a voluntary solution and called on the culture secretary Andy Burnham to legislate.

Last year, Burnham said that reselling tickets at inflated prices adds nothing to the cultural life of the country but rather "leeches off it and denies access to those least able to afford tickets". His belief that legislation may be necessary is understood to have hardened since.

The ECB's preferred option is for a new law, similar to one proposed by the Tories earlier this year, that would ­automatically give major events the same protection afforded to football matches and the 2012 Olympics.

The discussions around major sporting events have also taken on an added urgency in light of the Rugby Football Union's decision to bid for the 2015 World Cup. The resale of football tickets is banned under existing legislation.

The ECB and other ­sporting bodies, including the RFU and the All England Club, believe their argument that legislation is necessary for major events is gathering pace.

When it launched the consultation in February, the government called on sporting bodies, websites such as eBay and ­Seatwave, and the Society of Ticket Agents and Retailers to work on a self-regulated way of stopping tickets for a defined list of "crown jewels" events being offered for resale.

It also called on the governing bodies to ensure tickets were made available to a wide range of consumers at a variety of price levels and to explore ways of ­preventing touts buying up thousands of tickets within minutes of them going on sale, as well as developing their own exchange mechanisms.

The ECB will say it has done all it can, including staggering on-sale dates, releasing tickets at a variety of price points and offering refunds within a certain window. It will also claim that the World Twenty20 tournament director Steve Elworthy has written to the major online resellers but they have refused to work with the ECB.

An eBay spokeswoman robustly defended its business model, saying that the ECB's own official exchange mechanism offered only "very limited resale". "In short, fans who find they can no longer attend the event for whatever reason would be unable to recoup their money if they had spare or unwanted tickets," she said. "Even if eBay were to agree to such voluntary measures, these tickets would simply be sold elsewhere – either on the internet or on the streets, where there is less consumer protection for fans if there is a problem with the transaction."

Expensive Air Travel? It's Just Not Cricket

What would you say was the purpose of the England and Wales Cricket Board? To encourage people to watch or play cricket? To force people to watch or play cricket against their will? To destroy all cricket except for English cricket (and some Welsh cricket, but only as a sort of Vichy-style puppet cricket)? To nail every cricket in England and Wales to a board? To promote golf?

It turns out it's the last. Thanks to the ECB's sale of the cricket TV rights to Sky, the live sport on terrestrial television this weekend is the Open, not the Lord's Test. In 2005, 8.4m watched the Channel 4 coverage of the climactic Sunday of an Ashes Test match. Last Sunday's nail-biter in Cardiff peaked at only 1.5m, which may be massive for a subscription channel, but is shit for cricket and its chances of attracting new fans.

Why did the ECB make this insane choice? For money. It forgot about building on Test cricket's growing popularity after 2005's triumph, about keeping it a presence in our national life on a channel people receive automatically, and it took a big check. It's as if it was getting out of cricket - selling up for a fast buck, taking the money and running. But it can't run - it's English cricket's governing body - so it's left holding the money while it stares at the diminished popularity and, therefore, significance, of English cricket as a result of its actions. If it's not run by golf enthusiasts, it's run by fools.

Ed Miliband is not a fool, but last week showed himself just as fond as the ECB of short-term gain when he promised to safeguard cheap air travel despite the need to cut carbon emissions. Otherwise, he said, it would mean "you would go back to 1974 levels of flying". Well, if he thinks that's the worst the environmental future could hold, he hasn't been doing his boxes. "I don't want to have a situation where only rich people can afford to fly," he continued. Who does? But then it wouldn't be the end of the world. Whereas ...

Miliband clearly thinks that being seen to jeopardize the annual British exodus to drink colder lager somewhere hotter is political harakiri. He's probably right. While he may not be the most statesmanlike steward of our environmental future, he clearly knows how to keep his head above water in a sinking government (and if he has that skill literally as well as metaphorically he's got less to fear from climate change than most).

He may represent a political class that wouldn't tell you if the room in which you were standing was on fire because predictions of smoke inhalation play badly in key marginals, but his remarks give an unsettling insight into our national obsession with cheap foreign holidays.

To deny us them is like a Roman emperor running out of bread and circuses, a French president failing to defend the Common Agricultural Policy or a Russian leader being pleasant: the people won't stand for it.

Think of the other sacrifices combating climate change may involve - massively more expensive electricity; severely rationed water; a landscape humming with wind farms or hundreds of nuclear power stations, each threatening to China syndrome western Europe if a senior technician has a bad hangover day; removing the very tea from the used teabags and recycling the perforations; having to get up to turn the television on.

And think of what we could face if we don't make those sacrifices: the sea advancing up the Kilburn High Road; hurricanes alternating with droughts; all the fish and bees dying; weird Mediterranean insects and aggressive freshwater lobsters finding their perfect habitat in the Yorkshire Dales; more English wine.

Yet, to the British, neither eventuality is half as terrifying as losing our easyJet privileges. Apparently we feel there's no point keeping the planet habitable unless we've still got quick access to Disney World and Ibiza. This is bizarre and depressing. It makes me need a holiday. Are our existences so miserable that we're only living for two weeks of escape? Have we given up on the other 50, like people who give to animal charities have presumably given up on humans?

The media reaction when there's, say, an air traffic controllers' strike in August, certainly implies some kind of national neurosis. Stranded holidaymakers are spoken to, and behave, like victims of an atrocity. The cameras pan along queues of heartbroken Britons in flipflops. "I don't know how they can do this to people!" complains someone with a tragic expression and a Hawaiian shirt as if he's talking about extraordinary rendition. Don't these thoughtless foreign trade unionists understand that it's not just people's lives or livelihoods or children or homes that they're toying with, but their holidays?

What makes all this even sadder is that so many holidays are a huge disappointment. Hotels don't look like the photos, the beaches are crowded, the food gives you the runs, you're more stuck with your bloody family than ever. And however idyllic the destination, what series of experiences can live up to such rabid expectations of joy? This is why I don't think I'll ever watch The Wire - it literally cannot be as good as people say unless it turns out not to be a TV program but a cream-cake-bottle-of-whisky-orgasm combo.

Holidays aren't for going on, still less for feeling rested by, but for looking forward to. They distract us from the daily grind because they're a light at the end of the tunnel, just before the next tunnel. As soon as we return from a trip, exhausted, broke and disappointed, we feel the overwhelming urge to book another one so we can look forward to that.

So it surely doesn't much matter what holidays actually involve. Even in Miliband's 1974 dystopia, when fewer of us went abroad, the prospect of trips to Cornwall or Blackpool kept us at least as sane as our hopes for Gatwick-launched escape do today. We've randomly fetishised "sunshine" and "abroad". But fads change. If we could only switch to "drizzle" and "model villages" then politicians might pluck up the courage to make burning kerosene as costly for us as it is for the environment.

• David Mitchell chooses his Desert Island Discs on Radio 4 FM today, 11.15am