Sunday Times - February 23, 2014
TELFORD VICE, Port Elizabeth
Leg spin is the lingerie of cricket. Off-spin is its love handles. Medium pace is what happens when the thrill is gone. But fast bowling, ah ...
Proper toe-curling, neighbour-waking, head-exploding fast bowling is that three-letter word that shall not speak its name in a family newspaper. Starts with S. Ends with X. Middle stump is an E, as in erect.
Fast bowling lends cricket a magic it otherwise would never know. It separates the game from bigger, better games like football. It cleaves cricket to boxing and its bastards, like mixed martial arts, and bullfighting: someone could die.
Fast bowling is what Mitchell Johnson does. Thank the gods, no-one has died by his hand. Yet.
Put yourself in the shoes of Graeme Smith as Johnson stands, ball in claw, waiting to take aim at your throat. What the hell are you going to do?
Not only are you going to put yourself in the shoes of Graeme Smith. You’re also going to put yourself in his pads, thigh pads, box, gloves, arm guard and helmet. And you’re going to borrow the guts he has shown in his 11 years as an opener, and the technique, ugly or not, that has kept him alive.
Even then you could end up breaking bones or jumping about the crease like a drunk who thinks he can dance. Or, like Ryan McLaren, have the sense knocked out of you.
And all this, mind, before we get to the object of Johnson’s onslaught. He wants to get you out. Should he hurt you in the process, tough.
Ian Botham, facing Andy Roberts in 1974, hooked, got it wrong, and wore the ball on his hand - which crashed into his face and took out two teeth. The recoil loosened two others that were removed in the more comfortable confines of a dentist’s chair.
Craig Cumming’s face broken was in 23 places by Dale Steyn in 2007. “Before that,” Cumming jokes, “I used to look like Brad Pitt.”
Dead sexy? More like dead or sexy. Your choice.
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