THROWDOWNS #5: GIDEON HAIGH

Way back in the mists of April 2012 I had the idea to ask cricket writers a set of standard questions about their time spent covering the game, upon which they would be invited to riff. Initially, I gathered half a dozen or so together, mainly through buttonholing the less forbidding writers in the press boxes I found myself in, and had fully intended to work my way up to the scarier, fire-breathing beasties. The idea was successfully pitched yet, for one reason or another, never hit the streets. Nor even the virtual streets. Anyway, having asked people to devote some of their time to this, it seems only right they don’t languish on my hardrive. So, here you go… 

Gideon Haigh is an Australian freelancer who has contributed to several newspapers down the years, including The Age, The Australian and The Times, as well as being the author of over twenty books on the game.

 

Who are your favourite cricket writers, past and present? 
Alan Ross, Mike Atherton. 

How about broadcasters – which trio would you have in the commentary box for your perfect 30 mins? 
Arlott, CMJ, Tim Lane. 

What were your personal cricketing achievements and highlights? 
None to speak of. Club cricket for almost forty years as dour opening bat and finger spinner. 

Beyond a Boundary – what other passions do you have in life? 
See http://www.gideonhaigh.com/things-i-like/[There are quite a lot] 

Fantasy cricket – where’s the venue, who’s playing, and who are you watching it with? 
It would probably involve Victor Trumper. If it did, nothing else would matter.   

Favourite ground in England? 
Harrogate. 

Favourite press box on the county circuit and why? 
Not sure I have sufficient expertise to answer this. 

What’s the best day’s cricket you’ve reported on? 
Last day, Oval, 2005. 

And which day’s play do you wish you’d been at? 

Last day, Old Trafford, 1902. 

Mirth in the press box – who’s the funniest colleague? 

Peter Lalor, Jarrod Kimber. 

As a journalist, what’s the most tempestuous experience you’ve had – be that with colleagues, players, coaches, board members, spectators, or readers? Have you ever come to blows? 
Certainly not.  My disagreements have sometimes been trenchantly expressed but never uncivil. 

Magic wand time – what changes would you make to English domestic cricket, if possible? 
Not my department. 

What about international cricket – what would you change, given half a chance? 

I would remove the ICC executive board and replace it with six independent directors. 

Which youngsters do you think will go on to be giants? 

Kohli. 

Who are your favourite current county batter and bowler? 

Simon Katich, Ryan Sidebottom. 

Which coach do you most enjoy chatting to, given the opportunity? 
Tim Coyle, a great servant of the game. 

And which player is a refreshingly platitude-free zone to talk to, on or off the record?  
Ed Cowan, a good friend; Chris Hartley, an insightful thinker. 

Is Internet journalism sustainable – either for employers or employees? 
Cricinfo suggests that the answer to the latter is yes. 

What is the best piece you’ve written (or your favourite, if modesty prevents a proper answer)? 
I always like to think that next piece I write will be the best thing I’ve ever done. That belief keeps me going. 

Also in this series:  
David Hopps | Andy Wilson | Jarrod Kimber | Vic Marks | George Dobell

"...BUT I DID NOT SHOOT THE DEPUTY": ON THE DANGERS OF SHOPPING FOR SUB-PROS

A while back, I told the tale of Moddershall CC turning up to Burslem’s new ground and facing West Indian paceman Franklyn Rose on a square being held together by ultra-strong orange plastic mesh that was still visible down cracks between the turf. It was intended to be the first of a few pieces looking at the good, the bad and the ugly of end-of-season sub-pro engagements. Ah, so many forgettable names, so many forgettable faces – most of which, as you’d expect, I’ve forgotten. 

In recent years, as my love of cricket fell quicker than Felix Baumgartner (there are signs, however, that it might be flickering back to life), Moddershall engaged many, many sub-pros. I did a lot of the tedious legwork – researching the possibilities in different leagues and at different counties, ringing round agents (akin, perhaps, to sitting in an aquarium full of sharks all day), all the while I really ought to have been concentrating on writing up my PhD thesis – all of which left me on the verge of cracking up, a quivering wreck who would spend afternoons in Shelton Park talking to the geese (“Oi, Goosey, couple of flaps squarer; and tighter, saving one…”). 

The parade of sub-pros started at the end of 2008. In a story I’ve told a few times now, most recently for Wisden India, Immy was half-inched by Hampshire, yet in the end managed to play all but two of the final nine games for us, for which we thus hired the services of Asad Ali (who became a permanent sub-pro in 2010, when Mohammad Irfan turned out not to be flying quite as far under the radar as I’d thought) and, for a game that was abandoned, the Zimbabwean seamer Gary Brent. 

Asad Ali And Mohammad Irfan 

It was the following year, 2009, when things got interesting. After three weeks hiring distinctly average clubbies with exotic names and ropey CVs from the Home Counties Premier League, I was delighted with the belated arrival of our designated pro: cuddly wee Sri Lankan twirler, Rangana Herath – recently, the fourth-ranked Test bowler in the world, yet unable entirely to convince the Moddershall hardcore of his merits with the 14 wickets he bagged in seven league outings before popping back to Sri Lanka to win Man of the Match in a nailbiter against Pakistan. Evidently, Mohammad Yousuf and Misbah-ul-Haq are less obdurate adversaries than Dean Bedson and Taz Hussain. 

By the time Ranga was spirited away, at exactly the half-way point of the season, we were struggling in the league but had made it through to the T20 semi-finals and Talbot Cup quarters. The rest of our season would be a parade of subs of varying credentials and character. You really were in the lap of the gods with this, particularly since the events of 2003 when Shahid Afridi had played both for and against Little Stoke in consecutive matches, which prompted the league to stop pros from turning out for more than one club per season. Of course, with several clubs in a similar boat, this meant an ever diminishing pool of potential targets and, with demand outstripping supply, led to a seller’s market. 

Our 11-game run for the line in 2009 began with victory over Wood Lane – at the time an emerging power in the league – for which we had dipped into that diminishing pool and engaged Imran Arif, then of Worcestershire and since of Burslem, Whitmore and others. Aforesaid market conditions – of which Mr Arif had a sound grasp, as he would later prove in fairly despicable fashion – meant that we undoubtedly paid over the odds for him from the get-go, but it was a Friday night when we cut the deal and so our situation dictated it. Arif went wicketless from 11 overs, but made his first contribution when batting. That contribution happened to be berating a 20-year old batsman who had just arrived at the crease and blocked out a testing maiden from the wily Steve Norcup: “Are you playing for yourself or the club?” he was asked by the sub-pro. The young man told him he’d played for Moddershall from the age of nine, then pointed out that he, on the other hand, was “a money-grabbing [cee] with no care for the game or who he was playing with, only who’d pay the biggest bucks”. The two batsmen had no further interactions. In a stand of 59. 

"Mohammad" Arif

Still, the sub-pro carved and heaved his way to an inelegant yet matchwinning – and, more importantly for him, win bonus-winning – innings of 55 not out, so we were all, at this stage, pretty chuffed. All except the young batsman, that is, who informed me three weeks later – after we’d engaged Sri Lankan Jeeva Kulatunga, then pro at Burnley CC, for a losing draw at Stone and a defeat to Fazl-e-Akbar’s Porthill – that he wasn’t prepared to play with “that p***k, Imran Arif”. 

(Or should that be “Mohammad Arif”, the pseudonym he explicitly asked that we enter on the play-cricket website, giving the reason that Worcestershire wouldn’t be best pleased him playing when he had “a niggle”. I was happy to oblige, since I had little concern with Worcestershire. As it turned out, the reason he wanted to be entered under an alias was that he’d pulled a sicky with Kidderminster Victoria, the Birmingham League club to which, in standard practice, he had been assigned. I later found out from KVCC skipper, John Wright, that his fee there was around 40% of what we paid him, excluding the win bonus, which he reckoned enough of an incentive to lie to his teammates and his county and head north to play for us. Of course, making a match-winning 50 when playing under a pseudonym presents something of an anguished dilemma for the rampant egoist…) 

I say “all except the young batsman” were chuffed by the Wood Lane game. Actually, a couple of his colleagues were of the same mind leading into our visit to Longton (for which Kalutunga was unavailable), so some persuasion and cajoling were called for and a reluctant acceptance of our beggars-not-choosers predicament among the disgruntled members of the team. For the record, I didn’t dislike Arif at this stage; he was a working-class Bradford boy, very excitable on the field, and I felt we needed a little bit of presence out there, provided it was channelled. Anyway, Arif threw himself into the warm-up, shouting at people for fumbling the ball and generally behaving like a cranky diva with a Red Bull addiction. He took 2 for 52 on a sticky dog on which he ought to have taken 6-40, chipped off weakly for 8 when batting, before then having his entourage wander blithely in and out of our dressing room like it was a summer house at a garden party. They were ejected as politely as I could muster, and my pragmatic toleration of his presence in the group, borne of the compensatory cricketing cutting edge he was supposed to bring, was now at the limit. 

Leek CC

Two weeks later we played Leek in a bottom of the table clash. We were one place outside the relegation zone and only Leycett were keeping them off the bottom. Imran Arif was available for this game – that is, he had either pulled another sicky at Kidderminster or had been released by them – yet despite our perilous situation we chose to go in without him. For a relegation crunch match. No pro. Draw your own conclusions. It wasn’t exactly ideal, then, that our main seamer went down injured after 3.2 overs, but still we blocked out for a losing draw. 

Gary Brent deputised the following week, a losing draw against Hem Heath in which he played with a first-rate attitude and bowled with zero luck to pick up 19-7-24-1. He wasn’t a world-beater, but was a solid citizen and exactly what you need from a pro in terms of setting an example. And since we are drawing contrasts here, it shouldn’t be forgotten that when the penultimate game the previous season (at Wood Lane) was abandoned without a ball being bowled, Gary only took £50 petrol money and declined the other £200 that was rightfully his. I believe the hashtag is #justsayin… 

The following week, the fourth last game, we travelled to Little Stoke, who were at the time vying for the title with Longton. Another rummage in the sub-pro lucky dip barrel unearthed Naseer Khan, a 36-going-on-46-year-old off-spinner with 61 first-class wickets at 43 and a handy eight half-centuries. He was, I discovered immediately, a warm, genial figure. A big personality. Nevertheless, I was a little concerned when he came out for the warm-up wearing full whites, silver Nike trainers – silver Nike trainers that he proceeded to play the actual game in – and a Georgetown University baseball cap. A Georgetown University baseball cap that he proceeded to play the actual game in. The only thing missing were Chinos. 

Naseer Khan

Lord only knows what Richard Harvey and Gareth Morris, Little Stoke’s pro and captain, must have been thinking as they stood on the square deliberating over which strip to pitch the wickets in: the fresh one or the Bunsen. Surely they cannot have contemplated the portly Asian fellow with greying curly mullet – a guy who looked like he enjoyed a samosa, a guy one of our team thought looked like Dev from Coronatian Street – and thought: “Reckon he's a seamer”. Nevertheless, they opted for the Bunsen. While Nas bowled with good control and threat, it was Matt Stupples who picked up a maiden 5-wicket haul before Chris Beech played sublimely in contributing an unbeaten 104 of the 165 we knocked off. 

Naturally, ‘Dev’ was retained for the following match, at home to Burslem. However, after batting well for an unbeaten 73, he was unable with the ball to press home a good position on a tacky surface. Burslem recovered from 103 for 5 and 174 for 8 to knock off 186, Michael Brown adding a crucial 46 to the excellent 80 he had taken off Ranga in the earlier fixture. (We were familiar foes, us and Burslem, playing them five times that season, employing a different pro each time. We managed to beat them in a round-robin-deciding T20 game, yours truly steering the team into Finals Day with 37 not out, sweeping Khalid Malik for four to win the game after former Pakistan U-19 star Anwar Ali had biffed 50. In the Talbot Cup, however, with leg-spinner Imranullah as our Pakistani sub-pro, we lost at the second attempt, the first having been abandoned ten overs in due to a dangerous rain-affected pitch, a decision sub-pro Samit Patel disagreed with volubly.) 

Anyway, our penultimate game was another relegation decider, this time against Leycett, and again at home on a sticky dog. Thanks to a Dan Redfern hundred, Leycett, who really needed to win to close the gap with us, scored 220-odd for 3 declared. Nas was again disappointing on a pitch that ought to have helped him (if he’d bowled the correct pace) and we ended up blocking out for a draw. 

Knypersley CC

This left me with a quandary going into the last game. Statistically, Nas had done so-so in his three outings, averaging over 50 with the bat yet failing to bag the wickets he should have done (8 for 183). He was a likeable fellow, with the breezily charismatic air of an ageing Bollywood heartthrob, and, silver trainers notwithstanding, was a positive influence on the team. But we were playing at Knypersley, where it was generally slow and low, a wicket on which Immy had had scant success. I felt we needed a seam-bowling horse for the course. So, having broken the bad news to Nas, we again plunged into that ever-diminishing pool. 

A friend put me in touch with Joe Sayers, then at Yorkshire, and for a while it seemed as though Ajmal Shahzad would play. However, despite our offer rising to around £700 at one stage, Ajmal decided to spend his free weekend shopping in London. We thus turned back to Mr Arif, who was again paid a lower base fee than for his first game for us, but we agreed to double his wage if we won – an incentive designed to give him that wee bit of extra motivation that his obvious, aching love for the club couldn’t quite provide. 

The day started terribly. Our position was that we needed to gather more points than both teams below us, a draw being enough if they each failed to win. Predictably, I lost the toss on a green top. Nay, a rug. However, before the crestfallen feeling had chance to play across my face, Kim Barnett told me matter-of-factly that they’d have a bat. “Er, come again?” Not long afterward, his off pole would be in a different postcode and Arif – ironically, borrowing kit from the young batsman he’d insulted a couple of games earlier! – would be on his way to figures of 9 for 37 from 13.2 pacey overs. Now, someone taking 9-fer to keep you in the Premier Division really ought to be the cause of unadulterated delight, but it was, frankly, a bittersweet experience. Having to feign post-game mateyness wasn’t exactly a season’s highlight, either. 

Yeah, but would he have got 9-39?

The pattern of dubious behaviour he’d demonstrated up to that point would be confirmed the following season, his last at Worcestershire. Indeed, one week he told me at 7.30 on Friday evening that he would need “an extra £75” on top the verbal agreement we had made that Tuesday, otherwise he wouldn’t be making the journey up. (Perhaps this openly venal desire was crystallised when he literally ran out of our pavilion to watch Anwar Ali count out his money on the outfield, shortly after a rain-affected game against Elworth that was drawn. At considerable expense…)Anyway, once again, with no other pro around – Asad Ali was yet to arrive; Anwar Ali was playing for Nelson, his club in Lancashire – we were over a barrel and Arif knew it. So, having bought myself a few minutes to get my heart-rate down from ‘psychopathically angry’ to just ‘irked’ by telling him I’d need to talk it over with the club (which was true), some monetary compromise was eventually struck and he turned up. 

You can imagine my pep-talks to the team were starting to lose a little pizzazz by this stage, what with thinking our pro was an unscrupulous, deluded, vain bandit – so vain, in fact, that according to a housemate at the time, he commandeered a full-length mirror from a shared room in his Worcester digs and kept it hidden under his bed for personal usage, flatly denying he had it when asked!This 11th hour ‘up-selling’ was even more galling for me given that I’d told a white lie to the umpires to get him off what would have been a certain ban for his part in an altercation with Samiullah Khan a few weeks’ earlier, the latter walking after Arif while brandishing a bat after he’d been sconed by a sharp bouncer that was followed by a preposterous roar and insult in Urdu. I think we explained it away as crossed wires. 

I’m not sure there’s a moral to this story – there’s certainly few morals in this story – although it might be that it’s a good thing to have a pro who’s around for the full season. That, or we should have stuck with Nas after all. Oh, how I miss the good times on the sub-pro carousel.

THROWDOWNS #4: VIC MARKS

Way back in the mists of April 2012 I had the idea to ask cricket writers a set of standard questions about their time spent covering the game, upon which they would be invited to riff. Initially, I gathered half a dozen or so together, mainly through buttonholing the less forbidding writers in the press boxes I found myself in, and had fully intended to work my way up to the scarier, fire-breathing beasties. The idea was successfully pitched yet, for one reason or another, never hit the streets. Nor even the virtual streets. Anyway, having asked people to devote some of their time to this, it seems only right they don’t languish on my hardrive. So, here you go… 

Vic Marks is a former Somerset and England all-rounder, a Test Match Special summariser and cricket correspondent of The Observer. [Interview: July 2012] 
 

Who are your favourite cricket writers, past and present? 

Alan Gibson, Mike Selvey

How about broadcasters – which trio would you have in the commentary box for your perfect 30 mins? 
Tony Cozier, Jonathon Agnew, David Lloyd.

What were your personal cricketing achievements and highlights? 
How many Poms have a Sheffield Shield winners’ medal? That and runs for England.

Beyond a Boundary – what other passions do you have in life? 
Mountains. Vegetables.

Fantasy cricket – where’s the venue, who’s playing, and who are you watching it with? 
Australia versus England at the SCG with England winning. I’d be watching alongside almost any Aussie.

Favourite ground in England? 
Taunton.

Favourite press box on the county circuit? 
Trent Bridge.

Which ground provides the best nourishment? 
Edgbaston – vastly improved.

What’s the best day’s cricket you’ve reported on? 
Australia versus South Africa in the 1999 World Cup at Edgbaston.

And which day’s play do you wish you’d been at? 
Bodyline, Adelaide 1932/3.

Mirth in the press box – who’s the funniest colleague? 
CMJ (usually unintentionally).  

As a journalist, what’s the most tempestuous experience you’ve had – be that with colleagues, players, coaches, board members, spectators, or readers? 
None, really. Certainly never come to blows.

Magic wand time – what changes would you make to English domestic cricket, if possible? 
Switch to 50 overs and play much less of it. 

What about international cricket – what would you change, given half a chance? 
Much shorter World Cups – a good tournament wrecked by greed.

Which youngsters do you think will go on to be giants? 
Jos Buttler.

Who are your favourite current county batter and bowler? 
James Hildreth, George Dockrell (I am biased).

Which coach do you most enjoy chatting to, given the opportunity? 
Geoff Cook.

And which player is/was a refreshingly platitude-free zone to talk to, on or off the record? 
Ricky Ponting. 

Whither broadsheet county reporting? Is Internet journalism sustainable? 
No idea.

What is the best piece you’ve written, or your favourite, if modesty prevents a proper answer? 
No idea (it has to be the last one, doesn’t it?).

Also in this series: 
David Hopps | Andy Wilson | Jarrod Kimber | Gideon Haigh | George Dobell

 

THROWDOWNS #3: JARROD KIMBER

Way back in the mists of April 2012 I had the idea to ask cricket writers a set of standard questions about their time spent covering the game, upon which they would be invited to riff. Initially, I gathered half a dozen or so together, mainly through buttonholing the less forbidding writers in the press boxes I found myself in, and had fully intended to work my way up to the scarier, fire-breathing beasties. The idea was successfully pitched yet, for one reason or another, never hit the streets. Nor even the virtual streets. Anyway, having asked people to devote some of their time to this, it seems only right they don’t languish on my hardrive. So, here you go… 

Jarrod Kimber is a London-based Australian cricket writer (predominantly for cricinfo) and filmmaker, one half of The Two Chucks, and the brains behind cricketwithballs blog. [Interview: summer 2013] 

Who are your favourite cricket writers, past and present? 
I don’t really read that much cricket writing. I think I went 10 years without reading a cricket book, and that probably includes the few I wrote. Gideon Haigh is great, Aakash Chopra’s diary was great when he wasn’t complaining about shit hotels, and the Old Batsman blog is outstanding writing. I’d probably like Athers if I paid The Times fee. 

How about broadcasters – which trio would you have in the commentary box for your perfect 30 minutes, and why? 
If you teamed up Navjot Sidhu with Dan Norcross and Manny Cohen that’d be pretty fun. Cricket analysis mixed with angry men who have psychological disorders is really what I want. I don’t care about cakes or people who rehash bullshit cricket sayings. I want angry nonsense from intelligent men on the verge of insanity. 

What were your personal cricketing achievements and highlights? 
 Most of my highlights were when violence happened on the field, which was pretty often in the northern suburbs of Melbourne. I saw one guy try to stab someone with a stump, and had to get between two brothers who were punching each other when on opposition sides in a final.  I was pretty shit, but I did hit six sixes in an over once. 

Beyond a Boundary – what other passions do you have in life? 
I like cults, and Robocop 2. 

Fantasy cricket – where’s the venue, who’s playing, and who are you watching it with? 
Victoria versus New South Wales, Boxing Day, in the mid 1930s. Bill O’Reilly and Chuck Fleetwood-Smith playing against each other. I’m watching it on my own at the MCG. 

Favourite ground in England? 

Trent Bridge, or maybe Edgbaston when the crowd turns feral. 

Favourite press box on the county circuit and why? 

Trent Bridge. Best view of the cricket, wifi mostly works, and it’s close to the food. 

Which ground provides the best nourishment? 

Trent Bridge. Nothing fancy, just good proper food. At Lord’s you get guinea fowl, at Trent Bridge you get chicken. I’m a chicken sort of man. 

What’s the best day’s cricket you’ve reported on? 
David Warner on the first day of the 2012 WACA Test: India undone with pace; Warner hitting the ball into the stand and Eddie Cowan hanging on for his life at the other end. 

And which day’s play do you wish you’d been at? 
The last day of each and every shield final that Victoria has won. 

Mirth in the press box – who’s the funniest colleague? 
George Dobell’s impression of a potato is uncanny. Lawrence Booth is the man of at least seven voices. And Andy Jilal does penile origami – with his mind. 

As a journalist, what’s the most tempestuous experience you’ve had – be that with colleagues, players, coaches, board members, spectators, or readers? Have you ever come to blows? 
Trying to get accreditation with the ECB was hard.  They banned me for swearing, being a blogger, not being a member of the Cricket Writing Club and for other reasons they never gave me. I think they thought I was an untrustworthy fucking asshole, and while they may have been right, it took me (and some very level-headed, sweet-talking friends) a couple of years to get me full-time accreditation even while I was working for the world’s most read cricket news source. 

Magic wand time – what changes would you make to English domestic cricket? 
I think there should be more counties, England are clearly missing out on Test legends from Cornwall. 

What about international cricket: what would you change, given half a chance? 
I’d give the ICC testicles. 

Which youngsters do you think will go on to be giants? 
Patrick Cummins could be anything (including a unicorn); everyone else would just be me talking out my ass. 

Who are your favourite current county batter and bowler? 
Keith Barker’s bowling action looks like an American learning to play the game, but I like that. Jason Roy is great to watch because even if you shut your eyes you can hear how hard he hits it, so you can be talking nonsense with your friends, hear the noise, turn around and praise the shot. 

Which coach do you most enjoy chatting to, given the opportunity? 
Spent very little time talking to coaches, but Stuart Law when he coached Sri Lanka was great to chat with. I used the word rumour once, and he said he couldn’t confirm it but that it was probably a “trumour”. 

And which player is a refreshingly platitude-free zone to talk to, on or off the record? 
I’m friends with Eddie Cowan, so I’ll say Alan Richardson. 

Whither broadsheet county reporting? And is Internet journalism sustainable? 
People will always write about cricket because it has great stories. If (when) the apocalypse hits, we’ll chip it back into stone if we have to. 

What is the best piece you’ve written (or your favourite, if modesty prevents a proper answer)? 
My favourite was a piece about how my father worked in the bar at the MCG while Sobers made a double century, probably because it’s his story, not my own bullshit. Although, I did write: “He’s such a pleasure to watch that if there were a mad millionaire who hosted parties that people came to just because there was a lot of booze and freaky shit going on, I’d hire Ian Bell, strip him naked, oil him up and make him practise his cover drive for hours on end in a giant birdcage”. 

Also in this series: 
David Hopps | Andy Wilson | Vic Marks | Gideon Haigh | George Dobell  

THROWDOWNS #2: ANDY WILSON

Way back in the mists of April 2012 I had the idea to ask cricket writers a set of standard questions about their time spent covering the game, upon which they would be invited to riff. Initially, I gathered half a dozen or so together, mainly through buttonholing the less forbidding writers in the press boxes I found myself in, and had fully intended to work my way up to the scarier, fire-breathing beasties. The idea was successfully pitched yet, for one reason or another, never hit the streets. Nor even the virtual streets. Anyway, having asked people to devote some of their time to this, it seems only right they don’t languish on my hardrive. So, here you go… 

Andy Wilson is a cricket and rugby league correspondent for The Guardian. [Interview: summer 2013]

Who are your favourite cricket writers, past and present? 
Discounting current colleagues, Matthew Engel and Paul Fitzpatrick were writers who inspired me as a lad. But the greatest admiration is for tabloid guys who have to get tales and write tighter – local (e.g. Colin Evans) as well as national. 

How about broadcasters – which trio would you have in the commentary box for your perfect 30 mins? 
Bumble, Tony Cozier, John Gwynne. 

What were your personal cricketing achievements and highlights? 
Played decent schoolboy and club level, and 2 years ago got 50 at Headingley in a press match.  

Beyond a Boundary – what other passions do you have in life? 
Rugby league, birdwatching, Billy Bragg. 

Fantasy cricket – where’s the venue, who’s playing, and who are you watching it with? 
Adelaide. Australia versus the great Windies teams of the 80s; watching with dad, wife and kids when they’re a bit older. 

Favourite ground in England?
Headingley (Mecca for a cricket and rugby league man), just ahead of Cheltenham, Chesterfield and Scarborough. 

Favourite press box on the county circuit and why? 
Trent Bridge – for the view and the scones. 

Which ground provides the best nourishment? 
Lord’s or Trent Bridge, since the sad demise of Karol’s Kabin at Derby. Headingley is the best outside the ground – especially Brett’s chippy.  

What’s the best day’s cricket you’ve reported on? 
Lancs winning the County Championship at Somerset last September (just above Kerrigan’s 9-for against Hampshire at Aigburth the week before which kept the dream alive). 

And which day’s play do you wish you’d been at? 
The Gillette Cup game at Old Trafford when they delayed the news (David Hughes, etc).  

Mirth in the press box – who’s the funniest colleague? 
Rob Mills of Yorkshire Post used to make me laugh lots. Tragically early loss. David Warner’s relish at telling old tales still makes the Yorks box great fun. And David Green. 

As a journalist, what’s the most tempestuous experience you’ve had? Have you ever come to blows? 
Suspect I pissed the Lancs players off a lot when I was a young smartarse learning on the job. But the threat of violence is more palpable when you’ve upset a rugby league player. 

Magic wand time: what changes would you make to English domestic cricket, if possible? 
Revert to 3-day matches, uncovered pitches, games every day of the week with scorecards in the papers, outgrounds, etc – i.e. like it was when I was growing up.  

What about international cricket: what would you change, given half a chance? 
Play much less.

Which youngster do you think will go on to be a giant? 
Stokes, on limited evidence. [This was mid-2012, so chapeau!]. 

Who are your favourite current county batter and bowler? 
Bat: Stokes. Bowler: Kirby.

Which coach do you most enjoy chatting to, given the opportunity? 
Peter Moores. 

And which player is a refreshingly enjoyably, platitude-free zone to talk to, on or off the record? 
Andre Adams is good value. 

Whither broadsheet county reporting? And is Internet journalism sustainable – either for employers or employees? 
Fear the internet never going to generate enough traffic to make enough dosh, so we’re all doomed.  

What is the best piece you’ve written (or your favourite, if modesty prevents a proper answer)? 
Lancs winning championship for Manchester Guardian – I’m not saying the piece was great but it was a huge honour. Only road downhill from there. 

Also in this series:  
David Hopps | Jarrod Kimber | Vic Marks | Gideon Haigh | George Dobell 
 

THROWDOWNS #1: DAVID HOPPS

David Hopps at Thorner Mexborough CC promotion party

Way back in the mists of April 2012 I had the idea to ask cricket writers a set of standard questions about their time spent covering the game, upon which they would be invited to riff. Initially, I gathered half a dozen or so together, mainly through buttonholing the less forbidding writers in the press boxes I found myself in, and had fully intended to work my way up to the scarier, fire-breathing beasties. The idea was successfully pitched yet, for one reason or another, never hit the streets. Nor even the virtual streets. Anyway, having asked people to devote some of their time to this, it seems only right they don’t languish on my hardrive. So, here you go… 

David Hopps started at out as a reporter on the East Essex Gazette in 1980 and worked for the Evening Courier in Halifax and the Yorkshire Post before joining The Guardian in 1989. He became the UK Editor at ESPNcricinfo in 2011. [Interview: July 2013] 

Who are your favourite cricket writers, past and present? 
Matthew Engel influenced me more than any other writer. Michael Atherton I regard as the best writer of the moment. And there was a period when Martin Johnson made me laugh more than anyone else. 

How about broadcasters – which trio would you have in the commentary box for your perfect 30 mins? 
Bumble, Athers – I am very pro the Sky boys, actually – and Michael Henderson. That’s all Lancashire, isn’t it, and I’m a Yorkshireman. That is a really, really weird answer. Henderson wasn’t a broadcaster but he should have been. But you’d have to have a good lawyer. 

What were your personal cricketing achievements and highlights?  
Ha ha, you’re kidding. I suppose I’m meant to have achieved everything by my age but I’d still like to do more to promote junior cricket and spread the love of the game to a new generation. I’ve never had time to do that. I retired the year before last, at 53, and was just a club cricketer, but they have been good times and I managed to do a fair bit to improve the ground and did a lot of skippering in a pretty volatile style, specialising in mid-season resignations when I felt we were not being communal enough. And, if I don't play again, I can always say I finished by being caught at long on, which is the best way to go. One of the few downsides of working for Cricinfo is I don’t get free Saturdays any more. Come to think of it, I don't get free much at all really. I managed, in thirty years of club cricket, only ever to score two centuries. Should have been more. I was a left-handed batsman who southern friends said had a very defence that was “all Yorkshire” but I only had about three shots. You only need three when your extra cover drive’s as good as mine. I was petrified of fast-bowling though – I've never been very brave... 

Beyond a Boundary – what other passions do you have in life? 
My job is all-consuming. I never have time to do anything else. In theory, reading, theatre, hiking; that sort of thing. But I’m so bloody busy – I buy books but they just pile up. These days the bookcase just gets used as a backdrop for video. At some point in my life I need a quieter lifestyle. I’m not a great reader of cricket books. I’ve always felt the need to get away from the game more, to try and keep my writing fresh, and that’s what I deliberately try to do. But there’s so much cricket these days, it’s very, very difficult. 

Fantasy cricket – where’s the venue, who’s playing, and who are you watching it with? 
It would be Scarborough. It would be the Thorner Mexborough first team of about 1999 versus Hull University first team of 1979. I’m playing for both sides in my fantasy game. I’ve always loved playing cricket more than watching it. They’re my two most favourite years as a club cricketer. 

Favourite ground in England? 
Scarborough – closely followed by Trent Bridge, Hove and Taunton. My favourite ground abroad is Arnos Vale, St Vincent, where the boats go past and the small planes come in. Never get to the Caribbean and need to go there again. 

Favourite press box on the county circuit and why? 
Probably Trent Bridge. I’ve always enjoyed working at Trent Bridge. The height of the press box there is great. But I object – and it’s hard to avoid in England – to closed press boxes. The press boxes I love, overseas, are open, in warm climates, where I can hear the game as well as see it, because it helps me concentrate. English press boxes are so hermetically sealed. For me they make the job really, really difficult. 

Which ground provides the best nourishment? 
The main reason I like going to Headingley is so I can walk out into the suburb of Headingley at lunchtime and visit any one of several decent sandwich shops. I tend to eat outside grounds rather than inside grounds, so I don’t have favourites. Look, the best tucker is obviously Lord’s, very closely followed by the Rose Bowl. But outside those two, on county matches I very rarely trust catering on county grounds. 

What’s the best day’s cricket you’ve reported on? 
I’ve got a terrible memory, but I’ve never been more excited than when England won in Adelaide on the last Ashes tour. That wasn’t necessarily the best day’s cricket – because it wasn’t a particularly good day’s cricket – but I’ve never been as excited about a victory as that day. I can remember being on a high as I wrote the report. Also, the Tim Bresnan day in Melbourne on that same tour. Being a Yorkshireman, I absolutely enjoyed that. But I’ve never been very good at bests and lists. I think the best days in terms of writing are, ‘am I into the piece I’m writing?’ I’m quite selfish about it. The best day for me is knowing what I want to write, being able to write it, and being happy with it. And those best days often have absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with the quality of the cricket. 

And which day’s play do you wish you’d been at? 
The start of Bodyline, definitely. Or when Bill Woodfull was hit above the heart – that day. 

Mirth in the press box – who’s the funniest colleague? 
[Laughs] That’s bloody difficult – look at ‘em all. Gareth Copley – I just think he’s got an insane humour. Most of the snappers are quite funny. Copley’s the funniest. Among the journalists, Martin Johnson, ‘Reggie’ Hayter. Vic Marks has got a lovely, gentle West Country wit. Jarrod Kimber would like me to say Jarrod Kimber. 

As a journalist, what’s the most tempestuous experience you’ve had? Have you ever come to blows? 
My row with Ashley Giles at Trent Bridge, behind the press box. I was so angry afterwards I had to walk round the ground to calm down and I honestly thought I was going to have a heart attack. My heart was pounding with adrenaline. I've never been as angry in my life. Ashley had just finished playing and was working for the BBC, and came to lecture me about why I’d used the word ‘temerity’. I told him he didn't know what the word meant and it kind of escalated. I’ve got a reputation for being volatile and having extreme highs and lows. And I was certainly volatile on that day. My favourite rows though were with David Bairstow back in my Yorkshire Post days. He cared passionately about Yorkshire cricket and the disputes normally finished with a beer or two. 

Magic wand time – what changes would you make to English domestic cricket, if possible? 
I’d half the amount of CB40s. I’d start two weeks later. And I’d negotiate a whatever-it-takes deal with India so that the English season didn’t clash with IPL – without an IPL window, we’re conning the public, playing sides with players missing – and so T20 could be a worthwhile product here. I’d condense it into a four-week, high-profile tournament. We’ve got to realise that we have to accommodate the IPL. And to take umbrage, because of the traditions of Test cricket, and just sulk about it is no solution.  

What would you change about international cricket, given half a chance? 
Window for IPL! And less is more. I’m quite sympathetic to Graeme Swann’s view that there should be as many T20s as ODIs now. So, I’d increase T20s, not by much, reduce the number of ODIs and cut back international cricket by…brackets: plucks figure out of air. Fifteen percent? 

Which youngsters do you think will go on to be giants? 
I wouldn’t burden any youngster with such a prediction. I quite like the look of Jamie Overton. As for batters, there are players coming through with power, but not too much subtlety. There can be a lot of hype about players who get sucked into international cricket and one of the delights of covering county cricket is that you get chance to see the younger players before you have to write about them in an international setting. 

Who are your favourite current batter and bowler? 
Well, I like watching KP, because he’s a flawed genius, and I like the flaws as much as the genius. I like watching Anderson when it’s swinging, a hundred times more than when it isn’t. [Long pause] I just don’t have favourites; I’m useless at this. Root’s fun at the moment. I’m often interested in character – I used to like watching Paul Nixon bat – they don’t have to be particularly aesthetic. 

Which coach do you most enjoy chatting to, given the opportunity? 
Any winning coach in a garrulous mood with a pint in front of him. I enjoy chatting to Dav Whatmore but he’s never told me anything in his life. 

Which player is a refreshingly platitude-free zone to talk to, on or off the record?  
It is a stereotypical answer to say Graeme Swann but there are so few platitude-free zones and that is a total indictment of the defensive media training that young people are given. Everything is so programmed. It might be designed to protect the game and the player, but it’s a betrayal of them as human beings as far as I’m concerned. Swann’s one of the few people who survives that, and good luck to him. James Pattinson gave such an honest interview at the Australian media day in Worcester about his brother Darren, and the family anger at how he was treated by the media during his one Test for England, and I was so impressed by his willingness to offer a true emotional response. 

Where is broadsheet county reporting headed and– 
Down the swanny. 

…And is Internet journalism sustainable? 
I’m going to sound really corporate now, but one of the main reasons I joined ESPNcricinfo is because it has more chance of producing sustainable county cricket coverage – if it wants to, badly enough – than just about anywhere else. Whether it will remains to be seen. There are too many people in high authority who don't value it. 

Lastly, what is the best piece you’ve written (or your favourite, if modesty prevents a proper answer)? 
[Laughs] No, no, I’m not doing that. [Pause] Um, the best piece I’ve written is always the piece when I type the word ‘ends’… I don’t have a favourite piece, but sometimes if I look back at something five or ten years later it can be a great feeling to read it fresh rather than to read it as something I’ve written that day; to read it almost as though I’ve never read it before, and never written it, because I’ve forgotten it – that can be a really joyous experience. And I can still surprise myself every so often when I find real pleasure in writing a piece. That's nice to know. I suppose the one I’m particularly proud of – because I managed to get it in the paper and it was so off-the-wall; and I don’t think The Guardian were at all proud of it – was one where I did a skit, writing the piece as though I were talking to a computer voice recognition programme, a piece from Guyana in the World Cup, which I know that Andrew Miller [editor of The Cricketer] regards as his favourite piece of mine. And I wasn’t drunk when I did it, despite everyone thinking I was… 

Also in this series:  
Andy Wilson | Jarrod Kimber | Vic Marks | Gideon Haigh | George Dobell