He's the Man

Fantasy Bob drew inspiration from  this wonderful response to self-isolation by the musicians from Rotterdam Philharmonic Orchestra joined virtual forces to perform Beethoven's Ode to Joy  together from their bedrooms.

The Rotterdam Phil giving it laldie in their bedrooms

It reminded FB that today is the 193rd anniversary of the death of Ludwig van Beethoven.  Beethoven is already getting a lot of air time this year, it being the 250th anniversary of his birth.  That is quite alright with Fantasy Bob who can never ever have too much Beethoven.

Longstanding, not say long suffering, readers might pause here.  They might think, 'Is this the FB who has wittered endlessly about Gustav Mahler, and the mysteries of his bowling action, and who apparently would always ask Richard Wagner to open the bowling? How can this be?'

Ludwig van - he's the man

FB is sorry for any confusion.  Beethoven has always been his first love ever since at the age of 12 he was taken to a schools concert by the Scottish National Orchestra, as it then was, in the Music Hall Aberdeen and heard parts of the Pastoral Symphony.  This was a transcendental, transformative experience not unlike his first fully powered cover drive.  Both experiences live with him still.  He can repeat the Pastoral Symphony any time, but that cover drive is increasingly elusive if not unrepeatable.

Now Beethoven's sad demise is hugely significant for cricketers, who might think otherwise that the year 1827 was notable only for the first University match being played at Lords that summer.   It is true that Beethoven was no cricketer.  But his music is wholly about and inspired by his intuitive understanding of the game.  Readers may be sceptical, but FB will illustrate with some examples from the better known works.

As a batsman LVB shows the soft hands necessary when playing forward on a dodgy surface in the opening movement to the Moonlight Sonata.  Any edge will never carry to slip.  He rocks onto the back foot to slam the ball backward of point in the coda to the Egmont Overture (which also invented rock and roll - go to 9.01).  He imperiously slots the ball between cover and extra cover in the opening to the Archduke Trio.  He pulls viciously to the boundary in the finale to the Emperor Piano Concerto.  Nor is he limited to the conventional coaching manual - he ramps in the slow movement of the Piano Sonata Op111 (and he was unafraid of Nelson) - a movement which is as near jazz as it can get - go to 4.45 for the boogie-woogie section.

And when he takes the ball, his change of pace in the coda (9.20) to the finale of the Waldstein Sonata will have any batsman playing at thin air.  He shows his mastery of flight in the Cavatina from String Quartet Op130 (reputedly the only piece that reduced him to tears as he wrote it - a vision of heaven from afar he said).  But express pace was also his weapon - as in the scherzo from the Eroica Symphony. Make the batsman jump.

Who can doubt what cricket meant to him.  His final symphony said it all - an expression of the brotherhood across the world that cricketers feel.  Every time they take the field is an occasion for an Ode to Joy.

Thy magic binds again

What custom strictly divided;

All people become brothers,

Where thy gentle wing abides.

Which takes FB back to where he started.

PS - FB apologizes for the ads at the start of some of the links.  Modern living.  He hopes you enjoy the music.

PPS - readers may safely deduce that Alfred Brendel is FB's favourite pianist.

She's At It As Well

Saints preserve us - Fantasy Bob is now part of a 2 blog family.

All this social distancing and social isolation is very well.  But it is having an effect on Mrs FB.

The strain was evident when she read an article in the Journal of the British Horse Society (or some such) suggesting that horses don't need to be ridden everyday.  It was compounded when the Government's advice precluded her daily ventures to seek the emotional comfort and physical stimulus of her beloved equestrian friends.  They, as much as she, are in lock-down.  Things got worse with the added stress of having FB around all day under the pretext of home-working.

Even then the situation might have been manageable - the postponement of cricket meant that FB's conversation (if that is not an oxymoron) was not dominated by tales of his woes against leg-spin bowling.  His kit too remains in its winter quarters and she can tread the house safe in the knowledge that her next step is not going to see her end tail up as she trips over some strategically placed article of gear.

But then came the shattering news that the producers of the Archers were reducing the number of episodes.  Mrs FB has listened to every episode of the show since Eddie Grundy was a mere twinkle in his mother's eye.  To describe her as having a dependency on the everyday doings of the folks in Ambridge is no exaggeration.  FB's ears prick up occasionally as the characters worry about the village cricket team, but for the rest they might as well be speaking in ancient Greek for all it means to him. But not Mrs FB.  This is life or death.  How could she survive with such reduced rations?

As FB's handful of readers know, Mrs FB is a woman of considerable resolution.  If the BBC were not going to give her the necessary fix she was going to take things into her own hands.  FB knew trouble was afoot when he heard giggles and loud expostulations of mirth from upstairs as she consulted a friend on the phone one night.  Slowly she came downstairs; with doe-like eyes and a trembling lower lip she supplicated FB, 'How do you do that Blog thingy?'

The results can be found on this link.  FB commends it.  He hopes that reference to the cricketing  efforts of the Ambridge First XI will feature soon.  For a small fee he will consider taking on the role of technical advisor.

Saints preserve us - FB is now part of a 2 blog family.

PPE

Until recently, Fantasy Bob understood PPE to refer to the degree which Old Etonians who wish to become Prime Minister study at Oxford University - the present post holder being a notable exception.

Recent times have however given him another interpretation of the acronym.  Many are the lamentations in the media about the redoubtable heroes and heroines of our NHS having to do battle with the present deadly virus wearing only a motley collection of bin liners and oven gloves. It is the, not unreasonable, view of most commentators that this doesn't really adequately count as Personal Protective Equipment.  Even the summa cum laude PPE graduate flexing his or her philosophical muscle would find it hard to disagree with that assessment.

Ready to face the fast bowling?

FB sincerely hopes that the situation improves rapidly and that those heroes and heroines get all the equipment they need.  He notes with approval reports that the Army is now distributing essentials.

For as a cricketer (if that is not extending the use of the term beyond credibility) FB is acutely sensitive to the need for proper protective equipment.  And the more personal the more important.

It is hard to believe that in the dark ages when FB first came to manhood and required to consider seriously personal protection at the crease, he had to dig deep into the team kit bag to liberate one from the confusion of unmatched gloves.  Dark and deadly though the kit bag was FB considered this a better option than that favoured by some team mates, who would not only gather information about the bowling from the outgoing bat but take delivery of a still warm box. In those days, trust in team mates was absolute - not only that they would take catches and not call for suicidal runs but that they had behaved themselves the night before the match.

Failures of this equipment also figure prominently in cricketers' memory - at all levels of the game batsmen remember the box escaping its moorings to slide down his leg just as he plays forward to an off cutter on a juicy wicket.  And there are many celebrated anecdotes placing the cricketer's PPE at their centre.  One of the most celebrated concerns Australian batsman and beer drinker David Boon. The story goes that Boon forgot his box when he went out to bat against a rampaging Jeff Thomson (an easy oversight for a professional sportsman to make). He was somewhat disconcerted to discovery this oversight at he end of the day's play after several hours dodging all kinds of grenades. He resolved to be doubly sure that he resumed his innings fully protected. Having done so the first ball of the morning struck what Richie Benaud would decorously described as his lower abdomen, shattering the box. 

But these are inconsequential trivia compared to the challenges being faced daily in hospitals around the world. All those PPE graduates need to get the PPE in place.

Mixed Messages

The Pentland Hills can be seen from some windows of Fantasy Bob's residence.  And whether gleaming white with frost in the winter, or deep green under the occasional sunny day, a fine prospect they are too and rightly popular with walkers of all sizes, shapes, and abilities. 

In usual times it would therefore be no surprise to learn that they had unprecedented levels of visitors this weekend.  Other public spaces seem similarly to have been rammed.  The weather, after all, was better than the recent 3 sweater conditions. But these are not usual times, and there is a suggestion that the Government's messaging about social distancing and self-isolation might not be having the desired effect.  As in comprehensively misunderstood and ignored.

The majority of pubs and restaurants and cafes may now have closed for the duration, but until they took that action themselves: the Government's gentle exhortation to people not to go out was rather undermined by the decision to leave everything open.  The so-called masters of communication have put out the most mixed of mixed messages.  And are surprised at the result.

Every cricketer has played under a captain whose approach to field placing is after every ball to move a fielder to exactly where the ball has just been despatched.  This skipper now seems to have charge of the GB First XI.

Now, in FB's experience, cricketers have a particular sensitivity to the mixed message.  Such communication challenges are at the heart of the regular tragedies that befall cricketers at all levels of the game.  FB speaks of course of the run out;  when body and verbal language collide, when yes means no, no means maybe, maybe means yesnoyes and just because a batsman is charging towards the other end yelling like a banshee, it does not necessarily mean he or she actually has any intention of going for a run.  Quite the opposite. 

His long experience has given FB the tools to deal with these desperate situations, so that what was ambiguous becomes clear.  He will not leave his crease until he has written confirmation of his batting partner's intentions.  He has even devised a form to be filled in, requiring evidence of the speed of the ball, the distance to the nearest fielder and his or her capability in the matter of picking the ball up and throwing down the wicket.  Only when these factors have been fully reviewed will he  consider accepting the call. 

Given cricketers' heightened sensitivity to the mixed message, FB is confident that no bowler or batsman was among the weekend's crowds swelling the nation's beauty spots. They know the right thing to do in these difficult times. 

FB's conclusion seems to be borne out by the numerous videos that have been tweeted in recent days of cricketers in full kit practising in front rooms, kitchens, hall ways, patios,  confined gardens - anywhere in fact.

There is a fine collection of these tweeted by @crickshouts - and this is FB's favourite - a reckless quick single - no mixed message by the batter but would FB have responded to that call?

FB urges all cricketers everywhere to be safe.

Social Distancing

It was a bit of a surprise to Fantasy Bob when Mrs FB suggested to him that he should resume his active existence in the blogosphere.  He wondered what could have prompted her - after all, his extended silence on these pages had only met with a similar, possibly louder, silence on the part of his handful of worldwide fans.  The clamour for further lengthy laments on his chronic inability to face leg-spinning bowling has been deafening in its absence.

And FB is in stellar company - many great artists have withdrawn at the height of their powers. Rossini had composed 39 operas, finished William Tell and said, 'That's your lot - you've got the theme tune for the Lone Ranger - I've nothing more to give.'  Shakespeare put the final full stop to Prospero's farewell speech in The Tempest - 'Now my charms are all o'erthrown' - and the rest was silence.  Sibelius thought he'd said as much as he need say in his Seventh Symphony and that was it.  No more blog posts from any of them.  Did Mrs FB not recognise this august company?

Three top class batsmen who gave up blogging like FB

FB raised a quizzical eyebrow.  Mrs FB turned at the top of her run up.  Next thing he knew an in-swinging yorker was on its way.  'In case you haven't noticed, things are tough.  No one knows more about social distancing than you.  And you've been self-isolating for years.  Share that knowledge.'

FB tried to jam down his bat to keep this delivery out.  Social distance?  The very thought - he had done his time in the slip cordon - he had not caught anything admittedly, but he had stood for hours within touching distance of the next man. A fine rebuttal; or so he thought.  For Mrs FB was in her delivery stride again, 'All that Mahler you listen to - you can't tell me that that is not self-isolation.'  FB resolution wavered - had she ever joined him in when he pulled out a CD?  The agonies of the great symphonist had washed over him in solitary splendour.  She finished her over. 'So get out there.'

FB's most recent post was in September 2018 at the end of, for him, a triumphant cricket season.  Not triumphant in the sense that he had scored any runs or taken any wickets.  But triumphant in that he had survived the season without the assistance of emergency services.  It had been the hottest summer since, well, the previous hottest summer.  It seems far off now, but even then, the tail spin of Brexit and the madness of the Hundred - or to put it another way the tailspin of the Hundred and the madness of Brexit - were overheating the blogo- and twitter- spheres.  In the interests of his sanity, FB had to withdraw.  Social distancing.  Self isolation.  Mrs FB has a point.

And now?  The UK's slow collapse into COVID lock-down has been greeted by the start of spring weather.  FB would have expected to be stiffening the sinews at the prospect of outdoor nets getting under way soon.  But the possibility of cricket seems a long way off.  And the powers that be have rejected FB's presentation of a set of  rules for socially distant cricket:

No slip cordon;
Wicket keeper always standing back (even to FB);
No elaborate celebrations after taking a wicket - recent hi-fiving histrionics to be replaced by modest applause and a mumbled, 'Jolly well done.'
Hands to be washed after every over.

It could have worked - but it is not to be.

Mrs FB's feelings about the demise of cricket may be ambivalent.  'Well at least all your kit won't be lying around just where I'm bound to fall over it.'  But after a pause the full awfulness of the situation struck her.  'I suppose that means you'll be under my feet just lying about the house all summer.  As if you working from home is not bad enough....'

So getting him to self-isolate at the key board blogging away seems to have a purpose.  Old softie that he is, FB had to sympathise.  So here he is again.

The Back Foot No Ball

The end of another season

For certain members of Fantasy Bob's household it is a cause for muted celebration when he packs his kit up and stores it in its winter hide away.  After months of danger, Mrs FB can stroll around the premises free of the anxiety that he has deliberately left his bag lying just where she is bound to trip over it.

However for Fantasy Bob the ending of another cricket season is a time of reflection on his achievements.  Not that that takes very long. This season his visits to the crease have been mercifully few.  In the fifteen matches he played, he marked his guard only three times.  He bowled in only eight.  He is mastering the skills required to be non-batting non-bowling skipper.  There is still the fielding to deal with - and it is not clear whether he has ever done any of that anyway.

This season Fantasy Bob contributed more runs to his team's cause as an umpire than as a batsman.

FB uses a scoring shot that other umpires ignore.

Law 21.5.1 is clear:  'the bowler’s back foot must land within and not touching the return crease appertaining to his/her stated mode of delivery.'

Any apprentice umpire can even find a picture of what this means. 

Many a bowler in the lower leagues will swing out in his delivery stride in an attempt to bowl from nearer mid-off than the stumps and will plant his back foot across or outside the return crease.  It only has to touch it to for FB's arm to go up and his clear baritone to sound out,  'No ball'.   

This can lead to an interesting discussion as the bowler, not assiduous in his reading of Law 21 (or probably any other law to judge by the conversation that will ensue) will wheel round with a crazed look in his eye.  He will point to his front foot and suggest that it was well behind the popping crease.  FB will agree but say that the offending foot was the other.  It can come as a surprise to the bowler that he has two feet.  He will look down mystified.  But most bowlers accept FB's explanation.  However every now and then there is one who can't, who suggests that he is just making things up (they may point to his blog as evidence of his propensity for doing so) or that that he is conducting a personal conspiracy against him.  This all adds further to the entertainment of the afternoon.

Sometimes FB thinks he is the only umpire in the whole wide world of cricket world who applies this law.  TV highlights suggest that Test umpires seem to be unaware of it.  For example, the ball that Jadeja got Stokes with yesterday was bowled from very wide on the crease to say the least.  Replays at the fall of wickets examine the front foot but never the back foot.  Perhaps FB is just making it up...................

So FB packs his kit away, he fondly cherishes the memories of the runs his pedantic umpiring has contributed to the cause, he notes his kit is one year more tattered and battered.  It is a miracle that it has survived another season.  Is there another season in that faded cap and those crumbling boots?  Is there another season of back-foot no balls to be scored?

Kasperek

No one took more pleasure than Fantasy Bob in the performance of Leigh Kasperek for New Zealand in last Friday's match against England.  Leigh's 5fer was a huge contribution to her team's victory and showed again why she is so highly rated.  She was ranked second in the ICC bowling rankings in women's T20 cricket last year.

Leigh is one of FB's all time sporting heroes.  He and Leigh first appeared in the colours of go-ahead Edinburgh club Carlton many years ago.  Leigh, then a teenager, was, FB thinks, the first woman to appear for the club, an innovation on which the club has successfully built.  By contrast FB, then something a bit older than a teenager but not quite a pensioner, was the first Fantasy Bob to appear for the club, an innovation  that they would like to forget.

Since they first appeared together, Leigh has followed FB's burgeoning career with interest.  And on her occasional visits to her native City she will always visit the club.  She is forever happy to turn out, even if it means being subject to FB's peculiar approach to captaincy.  Despite that and the evident gulf in class, she always gives her all and plays with a smile on her face.  She's a gem.

Sadly, CricInfo gives no indication of these appearances in their portrait of Leigh - there are mentions of Scotland, Essex, New Zealand and many other sides less prestigious than FB's own Carlton Positively 4th XI (the only cricket team in world named after a song by Bob Dylan).

Readers may therefore think that FB is having them on - surely no international player has played with FB.  But the documentary and photographic evidence cannot be disputed.

Readers will recognise this photograph.

Remove the cropping will reveal

Leigh has just made a sparkling 70.  FB is striding to the crease and will make an equally sparkling 0.

Neither does CricInfo mention Leigh's legendary homemade pancakes - always a treat on the tea table and something which would justify her selection alone.

Well done Leigh.  What a bright star you are.  There's always a place for you in FB's team.