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Gautam Bhimani

With Football pushing its boundaries thanks to the first ever world cup historically staged on the African continent, cricket too continues to break Geographical barriers and sees the game played at tinier venues like the island of Dominica, returning to war torn Zimbabwe and seeking to be played in the bustling bylanes of Beijing.

The latest addition to an ICC recognized venue is far from obscure or remote but is still unheard of in cricketing terms! Just a short 35 minute drive from one of the world’s most sought after sandy strips, tanning territory of the rich and famous, sun-soaked South Beach in Miami Florida, is the sleepy township of Lauderhill, on the fringe of the better known beachfront town of Fort Lauderdale. Lauderhill’s 110 acre sports complex also boasts of a cricket-only facility, Central Broward Regional Park Cricket ground, the only ICC-approved ground in the United States…

Sitting here penning this down at bustling Mandela Square in the heart of Johannesburg’s posh Sandton district, dwarfed by the legend’s giant statue, surrounded by a cacophony of high decibel football fans, I can’t but feel the stark contrast to my experience of being an integral part of cricket’s brush with a quiet nondescript virgin setting a few weeks earlier. The most obvious contrast of course is the fact that here in South Africa it is 2 degrees below zero at 815 in the morning (it’s already been dubbed the coldest world cup ever) and the cricket was basking in the Miami sun at 37 degrees. But the differences were manifold.

Not to take away from the fact that cricket in the United States was still breaking new ground and could be sowing the seeds of another sporting revolution.

Flashback across the Atlantic. May 2010. Even before this new revolution had got off the ground, the New Zealand team had already started to break the ice (no reference to the weather in Johannesburg) thanks to an early exit from the ICC World T20. They spent a fruitful one-week vacation in the Miami area (7 days without an international fixture would feel like hibernation in this day and age!) and in that time made their way to the imposing Sunlife Stadium, home of the Miami Dolphins Football Team and the Florida Marlins Baseball team. There they proceeded to tutor some of the nation’s top baseball legends in the art of cricket and in turn the likes of Jake Oram and Kyle Mills tried their hand at bat. Baseball bat that is. One mustn’t lose sight of the fact that several terms are not mutually exclusive to the two sports!

But even more of a fascinating exchange of thoughts and ideas happened a couple of days later at the venue for the actual cricket matches in Lauderhill where the local ESPN USA baseball camera crew had to be taught cricket from scratch in 24 hours flat! I was part of that unique briefing session and it was a sight to behold! The image was a classic, as the crew was all seated on an all-American John Deere tractor, attired in loud tees and reverse baseball caps with hot dogs and mustard waiting in the wings. The conversations were worth being a fly-on-the-tractor for.  “Maaan, why doesn't the batter guy run every time he bunts the ball"....."get outta here, the catchers don’t get to wear mitts?"........"hey hey he was not the third man who walked out, he was seventh"........"silly point huh it’s a silly game?"......

At the end, baseball married cricket and the new couple went hand in hand the next day taking the first few hesitant steps on the honeymoon.

The high priest overseeing the entire union was USACA President Don Lockerbie. He was aware that thanks to the sluggish pitch and the absence of teams like India Pakistan and the West Indies, the honeymoon was not going to be spectacular, but nonetheless he was over the moon and confident that this was just the beginning of greater things to come. Lockerbie, whose brainchild this whole operation is, has an aura of fallen Texan Billionaire Allen Stanford about him, albeit minus a few pounds (the weight and the money!).

He had enough reasons to be happy as there were some technological breakthroughs. The games were not just televised around the world but also watched by many on their sleek new ipads and iphones thanks to live streaming on the web. For the locals though the biggest breakthrough was the fact that one diving catch from the first game made it to ESPN’s prestigious Sportscenter Plays of the Day, usually exclusive territory for American sports. 

But despite all the hype and the ground that was broken, as my thoughts came screeching back to the southern hemisphere, it became more and more clear that football’s quadrennial extravaganza is untouchable in size and stature. Whether you follow the sport or not, the football world cup is more than an event. It is one single entity that manages to bridge all barriers, that reaches out to every corner of our vast planet via one tiny spherical polyhedron better known as a football.

I couldn’t help but compare and came to the startling realization that despite the fact that cricket may be larger than life in our country, and we may have taken “giant” strides promoting it in the US of A, it remains but a mere speck on the horizion against the beautiful game that for the moment has summoned the world to the southern tip of the vast continent of Africa,

Till July the 11th, life stops. Until the final whistle blows.

At the end of the group stages all eight expected teams went through to the super 8s at the ICC World Twenty 20. Technically speaking Australia's progress was the only upset of the seeding process as they went through as the number 9 T20 side in the world. But the real story of the first round is not that of one of the Super 8s but it is one of the teams who have already flown home.

Afghanistan will not take any further part in the event, and have already boarded their British airways flight to connect to an Emirates flight to Kabul via Dubai. But they are already more than conspicuous by their absence, given the impact they have had. They have won fans, friends and plenty of focus.

The fever had started a while ago. Just about 72 hours before I boarded the flight to Barbados via ash-stricken London, I sat on a stage with Akshay Kumar, Arjun Rampal, Lara Dutta, Riteish Deshmukh and the two Sajids (Khan and Nadiadwala) looking ahead to the tournament and their upcoming film Housefull. It was during this chat that a couple of Afghan journalists made their presence felt as India's opposition in the opening match was being discussed. It was a poignant moment and from that point onwards it became clear that the presence of this war-torn nation at the tournament was going to be an integral part.

And it was no different once we touched down at Grantley Adams International Airport in Barbados. From Steven Alleyne the immigration officer who stamped my tournament visa to Keith the coach driver who took us to our stunning south beach resort, everyone wanted a piece of the Afghans. Everyone wanted to know more about them. Paulette in reception at the resort wanted to know if I was a member of the Afghan team. They had just checked in earlier that morning to the same hotel. Paulette was not a huge cricket fan but had patriotically vowed to watch West Indies play and also had bought tickets to the Afghanistan South Africa game in Barbados. "It is such a lovely heart-warming story seeing them make it this far. And they are such nice looking lads too," she gushed. And she was not wrong there either. The strapping Pathans with crimson cheeks and bleach blond hair confidently strutting around the white sandy beach resplendently turned out in flowing Shalwar Kameezes (one or two in Billabong Beach shorts and tight fitting sleeveless vests) was a sight to behold.

Even in St Lucia on the eve of their international T20 debut, they were the cynosure of all eyes. Their first order of business was to be part of a UNICEF anti polio campaign that they were jointly endorsing with Team India. While Raina, Rohit, Piyush, Jadeja and Murali Vijay were the known faces at the press conference, it was the five Afghanistan players who stole the show. A couple spoke in Urdu, two in Pashtu and one in halting English. They were fast coming to terms with the off-field "distractions" at the highest level.

As I sat around the beachfront lounge chatting with them, they showed confidence mixed with a canny sense of humour. Someone asked them what their plans were after the two group games. "We play in the super eight after that, no?" asked Raees Ahmadzai with a mischievous glint in his eye. I asked Hamid Hassan about facing the mighty Indians. "Well we know everything about them but they know nothing about us, so good luck to them!" came the pat reply. Hassan's favourite movie is ROCKY and he never misses an opportunity to remind anyone of the parallel between his cricket team and the Stallone character who fought against all odds.

At this point a blond gentleman in shorts and a lady with a camera interrupt our conversation. They have been filming everything that we were doing. "Ready for a sunset walk down the beach," he asks Hassan, Raiz and Nowroz Mangal, the proud skipper. They nod, excuse themselves and dash off for a few more moments in the sun(set).

The gentleman who whisked them away is Tim Albone, a documentary film maker who is the process of crafting an elaborate documentary on the Afghan Cricket Team. He has been following the team from well before they made it to the world stage. He has seen their journey evolve from a improbable story of struggle to an inspirational fairy tale.

Even on the night after they were soundly beaten by the Proteas they sat around in Raees Ahmadzai's (he announced his retirement straight after the game) room, dashing off facebook updates most of which went something like "Great experience to rub shoulders with the best. We will miss lovely West Indies.". The parting question to me as I shook hands and even hugged a couple of them goodbye was "do you think a few of us can make it to IPL 4?"

They then headed down Pebbles Beach for a final midnight walk to reflect on the days gone by. The idyllic beaches of Barbados and St Lucia could not be a sharper contrast to the dusty ravages of their war-torn homeland. Every moment they lapped up were rare moments of relaxation. Moments they deserve to savour. As much as they deserve their place among the game's elite.

With the host nation, the defending champions and the 50-over world champions out of the ICC World Twenty20, you would expect the tournament to lose some of its sheen. Nothing doing.

First, to the hosts. Despite a volatile political scenario and innumerable tube strikes ("disruption due to industrial action" is the politically correct term apparently) in London, the home team had enough genuine summer weather that touched 28 degrees at one stage, and plenty of sporting victories to celebrate (apart from the cricket wins over Pakistan and India). Jenson Button being on top of the Formula 1 world, Andy Murray becoming the first Briton to win Queens Club since 1938, the British Lions Rugby team on top in South Africa and of course the footballers making a beeline for the 2010 World Cup with a remarkable winning streak. The only blip in all this was for fans losing Christiano Ronaldo to the Spaniards.

The Aussies have an irrefutable logic to ease the pain of the loss. They feel it will aid their preparation for the Ashes that lie ahead. Either that, or another typically Aussie psychological ploy ahead of the all important battle.

And finally, the third notable absentee from the semi finals, Team India. One look at the number of fans who came to watch a dead match against South Africa at Trent Bridge was astounding for a team who could no longer retain the title. Closer inspection revealed a mix of die hard loyalists, a few who had paid so much for the tickets in advance that they may as well get their moneys worth, yet others who were soaking in the summer sun, a rare commodity in these parts, and then there were those who were too many beers down to worry about who they were rooting for.

Even Bollywood turned up at Lord's on the Sunday in the form of Saif Ali Khan and Deepika Padukone, two stars with distinct sporting pedigree, to promote their latest film Love Aaj Kal. The film is about the contrast between love over the generations and could easily have been about the Indian cricket fan. Loyal in the face of adversity.

Saif had also been lapping up the English weather, spotted the previous day in Leicester Square with Kareena Kapoor popping into various movie box offices to get tickets for the latest flick in the Terminator Series. The incredible part was seeing them walk about almost incognito in a part of the world where even the regular music stores now boast of a Bollywood section and the British Museum's largest exhibit is theme India.

But in terms of colour, India's blue was not the most distinctive in the tournament. That honour belonged to the ORANGE of the little Dutch giant killers, who stunned the home nation that too at the home of cricket. It was a wonderful sight to see so many orange hats in the crowd, and after the win, they were in evidence at all pubs, restaurants and clubs in the vicinity of the posh St John's Wood neighborhood that houses Lord's downing generous helpings of celebratory amber liquid.

But despite the Dutch Courage, the luck of the Irish, the English setting or the Runs from the Reggae Ambassadors, the season (yes, even with the men in the new odd blue not being around) still distinctly remains an Indian Summer.

Drummoyne Oval in Sydney's pretty western suburb of Balmain played host to the sixth highest total in womens' cricket history the other morning at the Women's World Cup. New Zealand (runners up in the tournament) was the team in question, finishing up with a monstrous 373 for seven.

Susie Bates was the hero (or does one say heroine) of the day with a cracking 168 off 105 balls, striking at a remarkable 160, with 19 fours and six sixes. Haidee Tiffen also got 100 but with just 3 fours. Now, at first glance, cricketing wisdom would tell you that a flurry of sixes is par for the course particularly on small grounds, and particularly when a team has scored over 350 in a one day innings. But the reality is very different. In fact it was Tiffen's effort that typified the women's game, not Bates'. Women deal in singles, twos and fours, not SIXES! Even when they score quickly.

A quick inspection of the totals at the top of the tree in women's cricket vis-a-vis sixes hit confirms this anti six theory.

The highest total ever made is an unbelievable 455 for five at the Hagley Oval in Christchurch in 1997. But wait for this.... Only 2 sixes were hit in the innings, and the top scorer, skipper Maia Lewis scored 105 in 72 balls with 11 fours and NO sixes...

The second highest total ever was made at our very own Middle Income Group (MIG) ground in Bandra but did not involve India. It was Australia taking on lowly Denmark in the Women's World Cup of 1997. They posted an imposing 412 for three, Belinda Clark recording the first and only double century ever made in 50 over international cricket, men or women. She finished with 229 not out off 155 balls, and get this, she hit NO SIXES, just 22 fours! (That's 141 in ones twos and threes in quick time... off 133 non boundary balls).

Number three on the list also involves Australia against Pakistan at a tiny oval in Melbourne. The hosts put on 397, Belinda Clark got 131 with ONE six but the top scorer was Lisa Keightley with a swashbuckling 156 off 147 balls...... NO sixes. Pakistan incidentally, was dismissed for a paltry 23!

To sum up then, the top three scores in women's cricket history saw a total of FOUR sixes hit in the entire three matches. Susie Bates managed six on her own last week, but statistics, in this case are not lying. She is in a minority, proving that the ladies not only have their feet firmly planted on the ground, but their strokes as well!

Mention the word gambling in cricket and the specter of match fixing looms large. Mention the word gambling in Super Selector, and it usually spells success. In fact, it is possible the ONLY mantra for success.

Plus it's legal in all corners of the world.

My technique has always been safety first and it works sometimes but not in the long run. In our office apna league we have had quite a few new additions with each passing game and it seems all the newcomers are doing rather well. First there was ESPN's new fast bowler (and a die hard Italian football fan... guess that's where the reckless instincts come from) Manish Kumar, and he popped in with some apparently crazy picks but ran away with the game. His latest choice, Peter McGlashan astounded everyone, but as the world has now seen, and all of New Zealand already knew, he is quite the player for the instant form of the game. Even his sister showed a bit of the family talent by smashing 88 in the women's world cup 24 hours after big bro did his deed.

And speaking of women, the only female member of our APNA league, Divya Bhagat (yes, she from India Cricket Weekly), decided to bash the living daylights out of all of us in the last game we played. She has had plenty of ribbing of course from all of us who were convinced that she only chose players based on their cuteness quotient. But she had the last laugh, as all she was doing was making some blatant gambles. Gamble number one was choosing Australian debutant Philip Hughes (who is blond and cute, but also plays rather well!). Gamble number two was going for Paul Collingwood (also blond by the way) as skipper on the final day when all others were stuck on the Siddles, Swanns and Johnsons.

The whole point is that conventional wisdom and cricketing intricacies help you just so much and no more. After all, if it's the right thing to take Kallis as skipper on day one of an SS game (since one has no idea who will bat first), well, then chances are that everyone will take Kallis. So, no point.

Divya, along with my other colleague Supriyo Goswami (the initials that match a legendary former Indian opening batsman are no coincidence, he too opens the batting with aplomb for ESPN) both went for another great opening batsman Andrew Strauss as skipper on day one. And it paid dividends. Again, it was a daring gamble. There are times it might backfire, and the opposition will bat first and your captain is a waste. But that's gambling. It's double or nothing.

So the moral of the story is, that to succeed in SS, you need to lay your reputation on the line and be prepared to lose a lot in order to win. And if along the way, you have the best looking team, so be it!

The journalist landed at Jinnah International Airport in Karachi and headed straight for the hotel. The Sheraton Karachi is located in the heart of downtown Karachi approximately 17 km from the airport, just past the National Museum and the Chaukundi Tombs. He checked in and headed straight for the National Stadium to check on the teams practicing.

After a sumptuous lunch at Kemari Harbour, he returned by the evening and headed straight to the room only to be greeted by an unwelcome sight. All his luggage was missing! Furious, he went straight to the hotel authorities to call the police. Inexplicably, when he went to the reception he was met by a smiling lobby manager.

Before he could remonstrate any further, they spilt the beans. "Sir, your bags have been transferred out of the hotel." Still smiling, he handed the journalist the cordless phone. It was a leading cricketer on the other end of the line who said "Janaab, agar aap Karachi mein tashreef laye hein, toh hotel mein thair nahin saktey. Mehmaan hain aap. Ghar aa jaiye."

Many such stories get told every time India visits Pakistan on a cricketing mission. Many such stories that would have been told this January and February, had the atrocities of the 26th of November, 2008 not happened. Many such stories that could even have been told on our side of the border had the Pakistani players been in India for the second edition of the IPL. Sadly, cricketing diplomacy is on ice at the moment.

Something one needs to see more of to help sanity prevail in the region. It's almost a case of chicken and egg diplomacy. After all, unless peace prevails, we can't have sporting ties. And unless we have sporting ties, peace can't prevail. Ummmm, if you think that's a bit confusing, you can well imagine the diplomatic dilemmas that go into trying to get these errant quarrelsome brothers to meet halfway.

Perhaps, on a cricketing front, neutral battlegrounds might just be the answer. The Sahara Cup formerly held in Toronto, Canada is one such platform, though in April 1994, with relations between the neighbours at their frigid worst, the scorching sands of the Sharjah desert were the perfect venue to ease tensions and allow ammunition to be runs and not guns.

As India and Pakistan arrived at the ground for their first league encounter in that years Australasia Cup, the two teams, led by Mohammad Azharuddin and Salim Mallik, went on a symbolic lap of honour together. Some of us journalists also had joined in to experience what we always knew -- the fact that that sportsmen from the two nations are best of buddies.

People from across the border are best of friends. Even armymen posted at the actual line of control continue to share mutual warmth and affection. It's only the political machinery that prevents progress.

Years later, in fact exactly a decade later when proper ties did resume, the "Friendship Series" witnessed cricketing fervour like never before. Thanks to the resumption, the bonhomie was so very apparent, it even prompted some heart warming literature, none better than Rahul Bhattacharya's "Pundits from Pakistan."

For a while now, prospects have remained bright for an enduring thaw in the relationship of the two countries, but it is a fact that for too long Indo-Pakistani cricket was equated with Indo-Pakistani war as two sides of the same coin.

How horrific the scenario was can be gauged from the remarks of an Australian cricket commentator some time ago. He amused, indeed shocked, TV viewers when he began his commentary with a stark observation before the start of the India v Pakistan match at SuperSport Park, Centurion in the 2003 World Cup: "There is always great interest in India and Pakistan for they have fought three wars. There has been no war since 1999. So there is so much more excitement in this match".

A critic may dismiss it as a diabolic sense of humour and pardon the impulsive commentator. But nevertheless it was not far from the truth - at least until recently.

So, going back to the subject of chicken and egg, let's have peace and cricket simultaneously. Let the leaders meet in the long room, while the lads in green and blue thrash it out on the outfield. It's quite simple actually. Don't worry about which must come first, the chicken or the egg. Best is to take a cue from Kolkata's sidewalks and put the two together. "One double egg chicken roll please........"

PS: just so I can further vouch for the hospitable tale, the journo in question in the story in the beginning happens to be my Dad, Kishore Bhimani, someone with great fondness for the place and the people (perhaps not entirely for its carnivorous cuisine) and the gentleman who "stole" his luggage Zaheer Abbas!

With another Test around the corner, this time nestled amidst the 365 beaches of Antigua, its time to make a fresh start for team England and a fresh start for all you super selectors. It very easy to rest on the laurels of what happened in Jamaica, but that comes with its share of hazards. I, for one did rather well in the last game, with the likes of Jerome Taylor, Chris Gayle and Suleimann Benn (as my skipper too!) as part of my squad but I need wholesale changes too. Let the mantra "never change a winning combination" remain as a on-the-field philosophy, not in super selector!

The temptation is to put in more of the same. Best to begin with a totally clean slate, given that it's a new game, a new venue, a new mindset. Chances are, England won't be succumbing to 51 all out in a hurry. Clearly, as Andrew Flintoff admitted after the game, the West Indians had done their homework, and had bowled in a very discipline manner, neither attributes common to Caribbean teams of the past.

On the Caribbean front, while Taylor seems the safest pick, given form and his ability with the bat, don't ignore Powell. Fidel Edwards may be suspect with fitness, and Benn is a great option because of unusual style and because he comes cheap!

On the English side, Broad give you the batting support as well. He remains the best choice.

In terms of the batters, Chanderpaul is one to watch out for. The failure in Jamaica will hurt him plus he has 184 runs in the only test played at this ground! Undefeated!

Gayle and Flintoff remain MUST picks. Lendl Simmons is a good punt. Between the keepers, stick to Matt Prior.

Another important fact to note. It's a new venue.

The Vivian Richards Stadium in North Sound, Antigua is not the run museum that the Antigua Recreation Ground was, neither will it take the turn and bounce of Jamaica.

At the end of the day, despite all good picks, luck plays its part so if you happen to take any of my advice, and Alastair Cook gets a hundred and a fifty, Fidel gets a five fer and Ryan Sidebottom a ten fer, then don't come looking for me!

Happy selecting!

Cricket in the Caribbean is a way of life. Watching the game in those parts is akin to being part of a truly unique carnival culture. Pretty much a non-stop party. Not least at Sabina Park, dramatically set against the breathtaking backdrop of the Jamaican Blue Mountains in the heart of the island's bustling capital, Kingston.

It was a tradition that dated back to 1995.

That year, a young budding musician of Jamaican origin who lived in Flatbush, in the Brooklyn borough of New York City made several phone calls to the powers that be of Jamaican Cricket saying that he would like to perform on the "mound". Why the mound? The "mound" stand was the ultimate cricketing party place. You pay a certain amount and once you're in, all food and alcohol is free. And to top it all is a live musical act during innings breaks. The ambience is rather special too, as it comes complete with its own artificial beach with palm trees, a splashing pool and deck chairs.

This brings us rapidly back to our young man in the US of A who was desperate to perform live at the mound. The authorities were not particularly keen on him but relented anyway and the Jamaicans were quite impressed. Still, not many present that day would have known that this young man who struggled to perform at the mound would go on to become a household name. His name was Orville Richard Burrell. Much of the world knows him better as rap star Shaggy!

Incidentally, day two of the fifth Test on our 2002 tour was the warmest day on our entire trip and I spent most of it in the pool. Working hard as always!

It was the same mound. No Shaggy this time. One doubts whether he would even entertain phone calls from Kingston Jamaica! This time the performer was also a reasonably big name, Reggae and Dancehall DJ and singer Beenie Man, but the point of my anecdote has less to do with music and more to do with a cricketing legend who is worshipped in the Caribbean. He has played some of his greatest innings there, had songs written about him and was worshipped by one and all.

The musical performance was in full swing when Sunil Gavaskar entered the jam packed mound stand. Very little, almost nothing can distract the revelers on the Rum-drenched Mound, where the popsicle eating and female beer drinking contests were at their final stages and the body painting was in full swing, but this time around, heads turned. The music stopped. Some bowed. Others applauded. Not just the average folk. Even local celebrities like Courtney Walsh lined up to herald the little masters arrival.

Soon the momentum carried him towards the stage. Now, you would not often see Sunil Gavaskar voluntarily entering the spotlight. But this was different. It was the Caribbean, where folks don't walk, they sway. And Sunny was not here to walk. Within minutes he joined red-leather clad Beenie Man on stage, and much to delight of the rapt audience, he provided an impromptu jig, swaying to the beat, moving more intrepidly than most of the twenty-somethings present. "Use your feet to get to the pitch" say the coaching manuals and Sunny was always a copy book player so he did just that. Except here it was to the pitch of the music and not the ball.

Walsh was quick to appreciate the little master's footwork on the dance floor. "It haas not changed won beet in all deez years maan..." screamed the fast bowling legend over the din of the music.

The cameras, both still and broadcast, had a field day capturing these rare moments. The Jamaicans lapped it up. The post lunch session began but nobody took any notice. But it was Sunny who enjoyed himself the most. Stopping only when he knew he had to get back to the mundane business of commentary.

It was Lord Relator who once penned a calypso about the little master in 1971: "It was Gavaskar The real Master Just like a wall We couldn't get Gavaskar at all, not at all You know the West Indies couldn't out Gavaskar at all....".

Well, a quarter of a century later, they still couldn't out Gavaskar from the mound.

It's a pity though, that somebody managed to OUT the mound itself.

HOP, SKIPPER AND JUMP
First, on the subject of choosing your skipper. Many are under the impression that you must have an international captain as your "team captain." WRONG. Look at Pakistan..... they put just about anyone in charge. Even Shahid Afridi is a possible candidate! Now I just realised that dig that could get me into immense trouble with my friends from Pakistan. So before I go any further, that was a joke. HA HA HA.

In Super Selector, the person you nominate as your skipper is the one who you reckon would score you the most points (since the captains points are doubled), and here Shahid Afridi is actually not a bad candidate, given that as Super Selector Captain, you don't need to change field placings or make intelligent judgements,. You simply need to make runs, take wickets and hold catches, and as an all rounder Afridi is in a great position to contribute. Now, after all those digs, I must put the record very straight. I am a huge Afridi fan, unlike many of my colleagues (Manish Batavia, are you listening), despite his suicidal tendencies with the willow.

The only case where you would not choose an Afridi, a Jayasuriya, a Kallis, an Albie Morkel, a Virender Sehwag or a Chris Gayle as captain, is when you have a bowler likely to scythe through the opposition. Two glaring examples, Dale Steyn bowling against Bangladesh in a Test Match at the Wanderers or perhaps Ajantha "Carrom" Mendis in a Test match against a team who has not faced him yet, given that many are beginning to unravel the mystery rather rapidly.

THE SUB-WAY
On to the more complex world of substitutions, which at the moment stand at a limit of three per game for a one day team and zero for a Test Team. But those rules are not set in stone. Watch out for amendments and extra substitutions coming your way.

The first thing to keep in mind is that players may be selected in differing capacities. For example Kumara Sangakkara may be chosen as a ‘keeper or a specialist batsman. Elton Chigumbura as an all rounder or a specialist batsman. The rationale behind making the choice is usually substitution related. If you plan to substitute a Sangakkara or a Chigumbura, its best to take them as a batsman, as you will then have many more substitution options.

The second golden rule of substitutions, whenever possible, is to anticipate them in advance, otherwise you may be stuck making an extra substitution just to have enough points to take an essential player. For example, if the West Indies are playing towards the end of the week, with Chris Gayle being a must pick, you need to make sure you have enough points in hand, given that Gayle is 130. If you were planning to get rid of say, JP Duminy who is 70, you would either need those 60 points in balance, or have to make a wasted counter substitution.

The third golden rule is to make the substitutions in time. The game is closed before the toss takes place for any match, but with uncertainties of access to the net always an issue, its best to make it the night before, or a few hours in advance when it's a match in the Caribbean (which starts around 730 in the evening).

With three substitutions, a close eye on the calendar always helps. Try and utilize that particular slot as best you can. If a team is not playing any more that week, get rid of the players and put in someone who is likely to play. Your best XI is an XI that is actually out there on the park.

Also, despite limited substitutions, its best to keep one in hand till close to the end of the week. This could be to put in someone for an extra game at the fag end of the game. It could also be to cover for an unexpected last minute injury, like with sureshot Sehwag in the first ODI at Dambulla.

Also, that extra substitution can also help, because, as happens to idiots like me you might have a momentary lapse of insanity and leave out a crucial player like Sanath Jayasuriya playing multiple ODIs at home! This was you can make amends and put him back in before it's too late and you are buying beers for all your mates for propping up the Apna League. .

A mere 48 hours before jumping on to my Swiss International Airlines A330-200 to Zurich, I was in Bangalore for an event, on the way to which I got soaked. The rain didn't let up for seven hours. There was just time to get back to stormy Delhi to pack for my Swiss adventure. Luckily the windows at home were firmly bolted so that the howling winds didn't usher in driving rain.

I took off the next afternoon from a drizzle-drenched Delhi airport and landed in Mumbai. Overcast. And raining. Hard. Somehow we took off on time from a saturated runway and landed 8 hours and 52 minutes later at Zurich international airport. I could hardly see the terminal, it was raining so hard. I then managed to make it to the train station and got my 8:04 service to Basel's Hauptbahnhoff Station. 

The policeman at the station advised against taking the tram to my hotel as it was still coming down steadily. So taxi it was. I got in to a black Mercedes Benz driven by a voluminous Germanic lady called Enga.

She tossed my oversized bright orange suitcase into the boot as if she was dealing a deck of cards and barked "Vare too?" I showed her the name of our hotel in the Birsfelden suburb, she nodded curtly and sped off.

As she recklessly careened through the winding tram lined streets of Basel, I felt like a character in a John Le Carre spy novel set behind the erstwhile iron curtain. Even more so when she handed me the receipt for the cab ride with her other hand - a metal hand!!!! 

Back to the rain (trust me its not going anywhere mate). The gloom and the drizzle persisted throughout the day. And the next day, as EURO 2008 kicked off at St Jakob's Park, the gloom was even more apparent after the home side went down 0-1 to the Czechs. That night, in the rain, we drove down the motorway to Zurich. No change in the morning. 

Finally, 78 hours and 15 minutes after touching down in Switzerland, the sun peeped through the clouds for the first time, more out of boredom than anything else. How long it will last is anybody's guess, but by the time I get to put finger to keyboard next time hopefully I can be the bearer of happier weather tidings!

Who says global warming exists (certainly not within Swiss borders!). Global wetting? Yup. For sure.