The Ashes: A First Test Round Up

The First Test - Cardiff, 8th July-12th July

England draw. It's some kind of miracle.

Unfortunately, I was playing cricket today, so I missed one of the greatest endings to a Test match. Don't you just hate that? When you're out, something good always happens! Never mind. At least it was exercise. But, I cannot describe the emotions I felt when I came off the field (I was out plumb LBW to a yorker that did actually crush my toe, pleasant times) and was told that James Anderson and Monty Panesar had snatched a draw from the jaws of a certain, soul-crushing defeat.

But they were not the only heroes. Take a bow Paul Collingwood. The man often forgotten, and the man that Sky Sports are very quick to say that he's the man that should be dropped if he gets out for a low score. Oh, that nudger and nurdler. What good can he do? How about batting for over 5 hours when every other England batsman leaves straight balls, gets out to the one decent ball Mitchell Johnson bowls or plays a silly shot, because clearly the scoring rate is important in a situation where you're trying to save the game.

The first day started alright, then England, being England, lost three wickets at regular intervals. Then this thing called a "partnership" came together between Pietersen and Collingwood. Then this happened:

If you've not seen this picture/the video of the dismissal, have you been living in a cave for the past few days?

And England did that thing they're so good at. Collapsing. From 228-4 we suddenly found ourselves 334-7. Albeit, that collapse is actually better than what we've become used to in recent times... So, a day that was looking so promising for England, suddenly had Australia almost in control.

Day Two began with the Aussies looking for early wickets. Thankfully, someone in England's lower order actually knew how to bat. Graeme Swann blasted 47 off 40 balls, and boosted England's total to 435 all out. Two spinners in the attack, Nathan Hauritz got 3 wickets, surely England could do something?

Of course not. Four out of the seven Australian batsmen got centuries (BLOODY PONTING!), as England's attack toiled away with no reward. Australia declared on 674-6, as soon as Haddin got out to Paul Collingwood, of all the bowlers. Well, he got one more wicket than Swann that game, anyway. Every front line England bowler goes for a century. Brilliant.
Australia are the clear favourites. England fans consider the rain dance, but then think maybe their team deserves to be humiliated. But then remember they're English and know that England will humiliate themselves anyway, with or without the help of rain. Two wickets fall (Bopara, looking nervous and like a puppy caught in the headlights gets out to a dodgy LBW decision) before tea on the fourth day, and then the heavens open. It is Wales after all.

So, to day 5. Many fans turn up at Sophia Gardens expecting to go home early and watch Sky Sports News and the yellow bar saying, "ENGLAND ARE RUBBISH - WE'RE SORRY WE GOT YOUR HOPES UP". It starts off looking likely. Pietersen, to go with his sweep shot that caused so much criticism that his ego must've been well and truly smashed (by Nasser Hussain, renowned for being a cruel bastard, obviously), leaves a clearly straight one from the guy who clearly should be a farmer, Ben Hilfenhaus. The Sky commentary team think that England can't do anything without Pietersen and are left conceding defeat completely. Strauss quickly follows. Doing what English people do best, hitting a four, then getting out. England are 46-4 and that little grey cloud that hovers over England fans returns.
10 overs later, England are five down. Hauritz, getting this thing called "spin" that eluded England's bowlers (well, he might not have got any, it's just England's way of batting on the fifth day. Make every opposition player look good) is taking the Michael. Flintoff and Broad come in, get double figures and depart. Graeme Swann appears, gets the second highest score of 31 and departs. Not one England player seems to be able to face over 100 balls. There's a thing called patience. It seems to have disappeared.

Step forward Paul Collingwood. The man battles to 74 off 245 balls. He is there for 344 minutes (out of the overall total of 414). Geoff Boycott would've been proud. It's exactly what England need, a man to hold up one end as the other batsmen/idiots hand their precious wickets away. Unfortunately, he cannot stay in and finish the job, when he is finally out to Peter Siddle's new ball bowling, the Cardiff crowd give him a well deserved standing ovation. But they're now completely resigned to defeat. Because Monty Panesar is coming out to "bat".Paul Collingwood walks off after his superb innings.

Every England fan in the ground fears the worst. The England balcony fear the worst. The champagne is on ice in the Aussies dressing room. Ricky Ponting is rubbing his hands with glee. Memories are rife of when the Windies tailenders defied England twice in the Test series. James Anderson, who Sky inform us with a blue, shiny graphic, has gone for ever not scoring a duck, attempts to keep the strike. But when The Montster's on, he surprises everyone. Ironic cheers are replaced with nails being chewed thoroughly. When Monty hits a four (a brilliant shot!), the cheers of surprise are a relief!

England take the lead. And if England are still in bat at 6:41pm, then it's a draw. Ten desperate minutes. Every dot ball is wildly celebrated, and then total silence covers the ground, as the bowler comes in for another try at usurping Anderson or Monty. The tension is huge. And at that moment, in the game I'm playing in, a wicket falls and I have to go out and bat. How I longed to be at Cardiff, or somewhere with a television!

And so, the big clock told me it was 6:41. And England. England, had drawn. England. Who had been thoroughly out played, had drawn. A complete batting collapse had eluded them. Clearly Paul Collingwood was not keen on being bowled out for 100 and having to suffer the complete media backlash (DROP EVERYONE! CALL UP AN IMAGINARY GUY WHO'S IN FORM!) that goes with being an England player.

Lord Anderson and Lord Monty walk off to a hero's reception.

Australia were left shell-shocked. England were left wondering whether if there was someone up there who loved them. Every single journalist in the land is left with a mind boggling jaw drop. England fans are delirious. A batting line-up, with backbone? What is this? But wait. Had it not been for Paul Collingwood, and the lower order, England would've been staring at an innings defeat. They should be 1-0 down. But they're not.

Momentum. It's England's. Isn't it Ricky?

Welcome to the Championship, Newcastle!

And Middlesbrough, of course.

After years of visiting grounds like Old Trafford, Highbury/The Emirates, Anfield, Goodison Park, White Hart Lane and Stamford Bridge, with their huge capacities, now it's their turn to visit grounds that look like Craven Cottage or Fratton Park.

Every week.

Barnsley, Blackpool, Bristol City (it has plants growing in the steps!), Watford, Palace and the wooden seats! I bet our new arrivals cannot wait to go to Loftus Road! Leicester, Peterborough and Scunthorpe all await them as well. August just can't come around quickly enough!

Joking aside, I can't wait for when Ipswich play Newcastle, both home and away. For most of the clubs in the Championship, it will probably be the sell out fixture. It'll be interesting to see what the attendances of the away fans are at St James' Park next season, especially when Plymouth make the incredibly, incredibly long journey up there.

For Newcastle and Middlesbrough fans, a word of warning. Don't think it's going to be an easy ride. Just look at what has happened to teams like Leicester City, Leeds United and the three who have been relegated this season, Southampton, Charlton and Norwich! All of these clubs have graced the Premiership in the past 10 years, now they're all in League One (or have been in League One). The Championship is most probably the best second tier division in Europe, and on it's day, anyone can beat anyone. None of the teams who got promoted from League One got relegated last season, Swansea even came close to the play-offs. Birmingham City may have got promoted straight back to the Promised Land, but Reading finished in the play-off places and went crashing out to Burnley, a team who have been in the Championship for all eternity (congratulations on being promoted, it must be nice to be out of here!), and Derby. Well, they started out where they left off and looked likely to keep falling for a while. Newcastle and Boro fans will be in for an interesting summer. Especially Newcastle fans, considering the club's finances.

I'm counting down the days until next season's fixture list comes out, I'm already planning my 09/10 tour! It's my last season before I go to university, so I want to make a memorable one. I hope my beloved team do the same...

The season's over (but it had been for a long time...)

Not many people sat in Portman Road yesterday seemed to care about the result between two mid-table Championship clubs.

It was nice that our season came to a good end, with three wins on the bounce against our bitter rivals, a team chasing the play-offs and another mid-table side. Two of these wins were at home, where it has been noticed that Town have struggled there all season. Finishing 9th was a surprise. A pleasant one though.

However, I say that not many people cared about the result due to a match happening in South East London. Within half an hour the North Stand was ecstatic. "The scum are going down" rang around the stadium, and when Giovanni fired in the opener which was then quickly followed by a second from Pablo, Portman Road had that feeling of happiness back. That feeling that has abandoned us all season, as fans have turned on each other due to their allegiances about who is sat in the dugout in front of the Brittania Stand.

It's a shame. Other clubs would've killed to be in our position of knowing which league they're playing in next season. I mean, look at Norwich. Yes, I may be an Ipswich fan, and did enjoy clapping and singing along to the songs yesterday, but part of me will miss our dear yellow and green neighbours. But look at the sides that joined them in League One. Southampton and Charlton, another to the list of casualties that once graced the Premiership. Leeds United have been down there for a couple of seasons now, Leicester managed to get promoted the first time they tried. Nottingham Forest were dragged into the relegation dogfight of the Championship, and Derby were fairly close to it (although us beating Norwich did help them out). The plight of Luton Town has been well documented. In all of those cases, it's the fans you have to feel for. They are the people who go to watch their team week in week out. They make the songs, they fill the stands, and they add more value to the club than any owner can.

For me, our season was over back in December, many fans would've disagreed with me. So, since Decemebr, I've just enjoyed the ride. I've been to Sheffield Wednesday, Plymouth, Doncaster, Derby, Palace, Chelsea, QPR and Bristol City this season, and every home game (including all the League Cup ties and the one FA Cup tie), bar Palace, as I was the other end of the country - I watched it on Sky though. Not that that counts. I'm not saying this to sound like the super fan, as I know I'm not. But the fact is, come rain or shine, I'll always support Ipswich Town. They've filled a big part of my heart. A very big part...

So, back to yesterday's game. We witnessed the best (Gio! Gio! Gio!) and the worst (back passes, nervous defending and the midfield going for a wander) all in two halves. And I'm glad Roy Keane saw what we saw throughout the entire season. Our away form may've improved (we won nine. NINE!), but our home form, superb last season, took a giant leap in the wrong direction. Which is what seemed to happen under Magilton, our home form last season was superb, whilst our away form (with all three of our wins!) was completely abysmal. But now we've won two on the bounce at home, so fingers crossed we can keep that up next season...

Happy days are here again.

Hopefully.

Next season promises to be exciting. Roy Keane's got the beard out already by the looks of this morning's paper! So, if Keano can cut some the squad down, then who knows! What we know for definite is this:

• Giovanni dos Santos must go back to Spurs. He was the bright spark for the end of the season.
• Once our injuries are out of the way, Keane will have a better idea of what squad he's got.
• The players that were told under Jim that they have no future could yet feature in the mighty Keane's plans. Look at Matt Richards. Never saw that coming!

All I have to say now is: Bring on the fixture list!

Blimey O'Keany

Wow. What a week! And that's not just the weather (take that IPL!).

Tuesday: New Chief Executive is brought in to the club. Press conference draws a couple of local journalists and a man who looks suspciously like Jim Magilton dressed in a wig, asking questions about the future of Jim Magilton. No comment is given from Bert from Sesame Street.

Town's new Chief Executive

Wednesday: Jim Magilton, a man who was a loyal player, but a terrible manager is sacked, by phone, by our owner Marcus Evans, who wears a mask or something to every home match, as nobody knows what he looks like. Magilton's sacking is expected, but it's a weird time of the season to do it. What a way to go though after beating the Norfolk types 3-2 on the Sunday. Rumours begin about who will take over, with all the old names being dragged out, including the horrifying name of Glenn Hoddle...

Thursday: I embark on a Geography trip across the border into the land of budgies, wearing an Ipswich Town shirt. Fun times. I get a text at 8 telling me that Roy Keane has been appointed the new boss. The press conference promises to be entertaining, and the entire nation's media embarks towards Portman Road. By four o'clock, Keane has had a look at Ipswich's squad and told them where he stands (Don't be late or I'll drop you, no excuses about your zimmerframe Campo.), and so he sits in front of a load of Town badges on a blue background. Cameras flash, journalists ask questions that aren't about Ipswich Town at all. No beard is in sight. Shame that.

Same old stuff about Ipswich, Premiership, ambitions. Then something about some dogs, and digs at other managers. Which are the bits the nationals focus on. We're so interesting.

Friday: His first squad is announced. Matt Richards is back. Wow. I forgot he was still here.

Saturday: First match in charge. Numerous cameras follow said manager. Nobody cares about what happens, only care about what Roy Keane does. But we win 3-0. And Richard Wright makes a damn fine penalty save. And Jon Stead plays pretty damn well.

Monday: Derek Davis still has a massive man-crush on Matt Richards. No change there then.

A Rumbling in Cape Town

Something big has kicked (or bowled) off again today, but not in India as it would've been expected. Instead, the Indian Premier League circus has travelled across the equator and down into the depths of the continent of Africa.

Welcome publicity came about last month as the IPL's chairman announced that because the competition was going to be held at the same time as the Indian elections, security wouldn't be sufficient enough to protect the cricketers. A good point, especially after what had happened in Pakistan. A new location had to found (postponement? That's for losers!), and if the idea of the two biggest English egos wasn't enough to get the British media stirring, the idea that the competition could be coming to England (I know, here! England! In April!) began to circulate.

Then someone looked at the weather and plugged for South Africa.
A lot has happened in the two years since India won the Twenty20 World Cup, and there is a sense of irony in the fact that the IPL has returned to the country that caused India to fall in love with the shortest form of the game.

Today, in the beautiful ground of Newlands in Cape Town, four teams containing some of the cricketing world's most famous names started the long tournament. Chennai Super Kings, containing everyone's favourite, Flintoff, played the Mumbai Indians, containing everyone else's favourite, Tendulkar. Poor old Graham Napier didn't even get a look in, as players like Dwayne Bravo, JP Duminy and Sanath Jayasuriya were picked along with the up and coming Indian talent.
Cricinfo tells me that Mumbai Indians won by 19 runs.

The Rajasthan Royals, the reigning champions, containing good ol' Shane Warne and the swash-buckling Dimitri Mascarenhas, played the Bangalore Royal Challengers, captained by Kevin Pietersen and containing Rahul Dravid.

Again, Cricinfo informs me that Rajasthan Royals were hammered by 75 runs.
Despite the fact the British media's going on about it (well, Flintoff and KP mostly), nobody over here can watch it, because it's on the subscription channel Setanta. The Daily Telegraph are showing a huge piece of hypocrisy by becoming engrossed in the IPL, with offers of 2 months free of Setanta and 'Mark Ramprakash's Guide to All the IPL Teams' (or something along those lines). Strange, because I seem to recall last year, they couldn't give a hoot, and they seem to be the major force in trying to get cricket back on terrestrial television.

This story really annoyed me. Isn't the IPL meant to be about cricket? Well, in theory it should be. But the IPL was set up in response to the ICL, which has now been made to make every cricketer to play in it feel like a criminal. It's ended some cracking players careers. And because of one little word, a cricketer must choose between their international future and financial security. Aren't the two tournaments essentially the same? Young Indian cricketers, mixed with some of the big names of the international game, playing in brightly coloured clothing and playing twenty overs each? Or have I missed something completely?

You may be able to tell that I don't like the IPL. In essence, I should as I love all forms of cricket, and I should be begging my parents for a subscription to Setanta. But something about the tournament just makes me uncomfortable. Maybe it's because it's close to becoming part of the international calendar, when really, it's just like the Twenty20 Cup in England, only there's more money. Maybe it's that astronomical amount of money. Flintoff, for $1,550,000, have they seen his batting recently? If he gets injured, and has to miss the Ashes, well, where will that leave the Golden Boy of 2005?

I still need convincing about this tournament, and no amount of English players is going to do that. Why would you want English players in your team anyway?! Have they seen where we are in the ODI rankings?

Perhaps someone can show the organisers that, and not just the weather forecast, next time.