Walk Like A Penguin

The vexed moral universe which the word walk raises in the mind of cricketers caused further agony for Fantasy Bob this week.  Generally, FB feels that he inhabits the highest moral space.  FB would always walk.  Unless, of course, he doesn't.  He finds that this is also the approach of Mike Brearley, who considers the issue in his recent volume Spirit of Cricket (a Christmas gift to FB  from one of his handful of readers who no doubt hoped that it would keep him quiet for a while). 

As might be expected, Brearley aspires to the highest moral principles, but he finds that the absolute can give way to circumstance.  'I confess I did not always walk, even in county cricket,' he writes. 'I still blush to remember those occasions.'  Brearley offers no excuse for the examples he gives of his fall from grace.  FB pleads only incompetence, as he explained in a previous post.  But it is not good enough - memory of his moral turpitude comes to him from time to time in the long reaches of the night.  He is rightly shamed and  blushes with Brearley.  

But if Brearley is not an example to follow, to whom can FB turn for moral example?

This dilemma forced itself across FB's mind this week as the media assaulted him with imperatives to walk like a penguin.  Were penguins the example he sought?  Limited as his knowledge of zoology is, FB had not previously been aware that  a penguin having knowingly edged the ball will, under all circumstances, put their bat under their wing and waddle back to the Antarctic pavilion their head held high.  He must have missed the David Attenborough programme which showed this behaviour.  Penguins are clearly good eggs - which raised another uncomfortable dilemma in FB's fevered mind - which walks first, the penguin or the egg?

As frequently is the case it was Mrs FB who simplified the ever tightening circles of moral complexity in FB's mind. 'For goodness sake,' she said soothingly. 'It's got nothing to do with cricket.  It's about walking on the icy pavements.  You've got to do it like a penguin.' On which point she gave a demonstration.  FB claimed even higher moral ground in maintaining a straight face as she waddled across the kitchen. 

FB returned to Brearley and the ethics of the Mankad.  But his concentration was disturbed.

He recalled similar difficulties a few years ago when he was encouraged to Walk Like An Egyptian.  He did not think that Egyptians were particularly keen cricketers, but he was pleased that those who were should inhabit such a high moral plane.  The earlier instruction to Walk Like A Man may have made more sense, but is now inappropriate in these gender sensitive times.

And then it came to him.  Bavuma.  Walk like a Bavuma.  During the First Test against Sri Lanka last week, the South African batsman in the had batted his way imperiously to the 70s when he played and missed, put his bat under his arm and walked off.  To the bemusement of fielders, umpires and TV commentators whose replays showed he had missed the ball by a country mile.  Obviously there had been too much chat about penguins in the dressing room.  Lower team skippers take note.

By way of conclusion, her supporters among FB's handful of readers should be interested to learn that Mrs FB may have given an exemplary demonstration of walking on ice.  But she has just invested in a set of crampons to attach to her boots.  Walk like a penguin?  No way. She's walking like a Sherpa.