Digression: Consider Randiv’s brains, or lack thereof. If Kumar was in fact instructing his bowler, was that instruction to bowl a no-ball? Ridiculous – a batsman can and, in this instance did, hit a no-ball. A more canny bowler would have bowled a wide – because it is the wide that, by definition, you cannot hit.
But back to cases: So everyone, from the Sri Lankan cricket board to sundry Indian stars of yesteryear, have been banging on about the Lankans’ lack of sportsmanship (If there is any irony in Mohammad Azharuddin, who was banned from international cricket for match-fixing and related activities, talking of the spirit of the sportsman, ignore it, please – it is also the silly season).
What strikes us is how the public discourse, and wall to wall ‘exclusive’ coverage on television channels, misses the point: Sehwag was denied his century not by the Kumar-Suraj combine, but by scorers and umpires who were clearly asleep and/or ignorant of rules that, incidentally, have been framed so ambiguously as to convert a fairly simple proposition into a complicated situation.
Here is what happened, pure and simple: Randiv bowled. The umpire called ‘no-ball’. There is a reason the umpire calls it as soon as a bowler bowls one – it is to let the batsman know that there are no real penalties attached to having a go. A batsman, on hearing that call, knows he can have a swing without running the risk of being bowled, caught, declared LBW.
So Randiv bowled. The umpire called. Sehwag had a swing, and despatched the ball over the ropes.
That logically is seven runs added to the total – one to the team total as an extra, the other six to Sehwag, the batsman who was quick to seize on the opportunity. Simple.
This is where the idiocy of umpires and the ambiguity of the rule book come in: How could the game be over as soon as Randiv over-stepped? A ball, to be deemed bowled, has to be delivered; the batsman has to play/miss it; in the case of the former the ball has to be retrieved while the batsman runs, or not…there is no provision in cricket for declaring a result, and ending a match, at some intermediate stage of this process.
Thus, for umpires to declare that the game was over as soon as Randiv overstepped is plain folly. To understand this, consider a hypothetical situation: Randiv bowls. It is a no-ball. Sehwag decides the game is over, lets the ball go and walks off. Sangakkara collects and whips off the bails.
Is the batsman out? Of course he is. The extra run cannot be counted until the ball in question is officially dead; in our example Sehwag left his crease while the ball was in play, therefore he is out.
So, if his dismissal off a no ball counts, why were the runs he scored off that no ball not counted to his name?
The question, simplified: How could the umpires, or the scorers, or both, consider the match over before the ball had completed its necessary course?
Read Law 24 (No ball)
Runs resulting from a No ball
The one run penalty for a No ball shall be scored as a No ball extra. If other penalty runs have been awarded to either side, these shall be scored as in Law 42.17 (Penalty runs). Any runs completed by the batsmen or a boundary allowance shall be credited to the striker if the ball has been struck by the bat; otherwise they also shall be scored as No ball extras.
Where is the ambiguity? The law clearly says that any runs completed by the batsman, or a boundary allowance, off a no ball shall be credited to the striker.
Sehwag ‘completed’ a sixer. His score – unless the scorer is a congenital idiot – should have been 105. End of story.
The key is to understand that a game is not declared over midway through a cricketing action – which is the space between a ball being ‘live’ and being ‘dead’. Consider this example: India needs one run to win. Sehwag whacks the ball high in the air. While the ball is in the air, the batsman cross over and complete a run. The ball comes down, and is caught.
Is the game over, simply because the batsmen had crossed while the ball was in the air, and had not yet been caught? No, the verdict in this case would be, the batsman is out, the run doesn’t count. So clearly, runs and results are not declared at some arbitrary point while the ball is live – such a determination happens only after the ball is ‘dead’.
The fallacy appears to be in the thinking that any runs accruing to the batsman and/or side after a result is achieved do not count. That is equally a fallacy. Here is an illustrative example:
India needs to get one run to win. Sehwag drives, and the batsman race across for a single. The ball then goes on to cross the boundary. Do you award Sehwag one run, or four? Clearly, the answer is ‘four’ – despite the fact that the first of those runs won the game.
It is not the intention of this post to ‘excuse’ what Randiv did, or what Sangakkara asked him to do. That action was clearly unsporting, childish, petty. Here was one of the great batsman of the modern era, in challenging conditions, digging deep within himself to play a match-winning innings that was contrary to type. A gracious opposition would have admired, applauded; instead, the Lankans appear to have conspired to score a childish ‘victory’.
Fair enough. What beats us, though, is this: Why is there, amidst all this noise, no attempt to question the outcome declared by the scorers? Why is there no debate on the central question? Where were the umpires, the match referee? And where, incidentally, was the Indian team management that it did not think to question the scorers’ declared result?
No comments:
Post a Comment