K evin Pietersen was peculiarly charmless, even by his own high
standards, shortly after leading England to one of their most abject performances in any form of cricket in the Stanford 20/20 match. Did he mention how well Sir Allen Stanford’s West Indian team, an adept mix of old sweats and feisty tyros, had played as they whopped England? Not a word. He didn’t mention that the Stanford team had outbowled, outcaught, outfielded and out-thought England at every stage.
This series has brought out some of the worst in grumpy English sportsmanship. Talking to the press after the game, Pietersen said: ‘We concentrated too much on the peripherals... There were just a lot of distractions... Coming into this week there was huge, huge uncertainty.’ But as for the result, KP opined: ‘You look at the smiles on the faces of some of those boys who basically have nothing and it brings a smile to my face to see how happy they are.’ Well, thanks for that, KP. Thanks for thinking of the boys who have nothing.
What a terrible idiot he can be. He whinged about the pitch, the lights, about Stanford popping into the dressing room, not to mention (shock! horror!) him getting the whole tournament off the ground by having a laugh with a few wives. As Tony Cozier said in a radio interview with the BBC’s Jonathan Agnew: what on earth are you complaining about — you’re here in Antigua, the sun is shining, the track is hard, the outfield is dry, and you’re playing cricket for a lot of money; please shut up. (I paraphrase a bit, but not much.) Going into the series, everyone seemed to think Allen Stanford was the problem. But after a week of hearing our boys moan, you have to sympathise with him. It was the arrogant, incompetent and utterly ungracious English who were the problem. It was the simplest series in the world: you win, you get the cash. You want a perfect wicket, no music and the sanctity of the hallowed dressing room, you’ve got Test cricket.
Thankfully, there was another side to enjoy, and Chris Gayle was especially brilliant — on and off the pitch. He was there for the dosh, and he didn’t bleat on about anything. Good on him. He deserves the cash — and he was very funny in response to Pietersen. ‘Who don’t need a million? You’ve got to be crazy. This is better than anything in the world.’ So what if it was different to Test cricket? That was the point. The fact that Stanford has said he is bored by Test cricket has driven some commentators totally insane. But who cares? Stanford’s tournament is fun. Would KP & co still be moaning if they’d trousered the prize money?
Meanwhile, on the other side of the world, another wonderful face of the great game of cricket was shining. The third Test in the series between the two most competitive sides in the world, India and Australia, was ending in a draw in Delhi. Just before the close the great Anil Kumble, the third-highest wicket-taker in Test history, announced he was retiring. Cue huge applause from the crowd, handshakes all round and a guard of honour from the always-sporting Aussies.
As he went back to long leg after his last over in Test cricket, Kumble put his cap back on — the royal Indian blue now faded to brown, and his surname printed on the back, school-style. It was the cap he’d been given in his first Test in England in 1990, and he’d kept it ever since. That’s the glory of the game. It’s timeless; and it can make instant millionaires as well. Let’s celebrate, not carp.
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