Memo, Maximus Nauseous: One-day Gladiators Need Pride

Sydney Morning Herald

Saturday February 11, 2006

ANDREW STEVENSON

IT MAY be a bit rich of a gladiator to plagiarise a nobleman but Russ Crowe could do us all a favour when he delivers the eulogy at Kerry Packer's memorial service next week.

After all, it may be time to bury the big fella; the praise has been dolloped on like over-whipped cream since his death

In his spare time, apparently, KP tracked down Osama Bin Laden to a regional cricket ground in Pakistan's restive Baluchistan province, wrote George W Bush's six state-of-the-union addresses and linked schizophrenia to vitamin D deficiencies in pregnant women.

While he was clocked on in his day job, Packer saved cricket. At least so chorused the Channel Nine commentary team who, to a man, owed the mogul every frequent-flyer point their families ever enjoyed. Not to mention the luxury of never having had to work for a living.

But what exactly did Packer save cricket from was the question on a handful of under-occupied minds as the curtain - with the speed of Inzamam-ul-Haq chasing down a nick through slips down to third man on a hot afternoon - finally started coming down on the VB Series.

The empty seats around Australia said "thank heavens for that". Cricket's caravan has crashed and bored, struggling to hold the imagination on a Sunday afternoon and finding it impossible to earn more than a sidewards glance on a Tuesday when a pair of undermanned, under-performed and underway (home) teams fight for the right to be knocked out of their mercy in the best-of-three finals series.

The innovator is dead; long live the innovator.

Cricket was asleep when Packer grabbed it by the short and curlies in the '70s, backed the one-day game and carved a new niche in popular culture. Test cricket was floundering; 30 years later it's the hit-and-giggle that's lost its way. Five-day matches are flourishing precisely because they are so counter-cultural. With all the world obsessed with instant gratification like a birthday party worth of two-year-olds on too much red cordial, Test cricket's future is assured.

But one-day cricket can continue only down the path Packer, and others, hacked out for it all those years ago. Yesterday's innovation is today's non-ratings zone, which stretches from about overs 10 to 40. Something new must be found in the jungle.

And there Russell Crowe could help. In 2000 years, the Romans remain unsurpassed in innovations designed to keep the attention of a bored public. They'd flood the Colosseum for naval battles but nothing beat the sight of wild animals set free in a big urban cage.

Think about the possibilities. If we have to have three teams, let's have the real Lions of Pakistan come every year. And not just to make up the numbers and play out a series of desultory midweek affairs.

Let's get them on the pitch every game. If we can get half the Melbourne Cup field through quarantine, surely 11 lions is not beyond the game's administrators. That way we could play a genuine triangular tournament - two cricket teams and a pride of lions. Brave would be restored to its original meaning; courage would be more than batting on after a rap on the helmet and fielders would always be on their toes.

The permutations are endless. Bill Lawry could again say "it's all happening" - and be taken seriously. Short leg would be true to label and the sweeper on the mid-wicket fence would have more on his mind than saving the second. Watch him save himself first: now I'd pay to see that.

© 2006 Sydney Morning Herald

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