Valentine - Out for a Duck: a Celebration of Cricketing Calamities

T he idea for this book arrived in the upper tier of the Compton Stand at Lords on a lazy summers afternoon in 2009. The batsmen and bowlers had bought into the crowds post-lunch stupor, neither side straining for runs or wickets. Such carefree moments, shared with a dear friend provide the perfect environment for discussing the finer points of our favourite sport. Any updates on work, family and mutual friends are dutifully traded during the morning session, leaving the rest of the days play for earnest cricket chat fuelled by the occasional visit to the refreshment kiosks.

Just before tea, our conversation meandered towards the subject of batting as a trial of character. How many other sports give you just one chance to express yourself? Even that one fleeting opportunity can be snuffed out prematurely. The unplayable ball, brilliant catch, errant umpire or needless run out are all waiting to test your sense of humour. In a split second, your day has ended.

Batting is not a matter of life and death no innings is that important but the finality and inevitability of getting out does draw comparison, even at a superficial level. No batsman, not even the greatest to have taken guard, can escape the pain of being dismissed for a low score or a duck. A perfect season or career is not possible. Nobody is immortal at the crease.

How often do we hear this on commentary? He did well to nick that one. A lesser batsman would have missed it. Cold comfort to the debutant who has just bagged a duck. Likewise: The umpire didnt see the inside edge and hes given him lbw. The finger is raised and the batsman isnt happy, but he has to go. Spectators may be sympathetic, selectors less so.

And its not only the batsmen who are a hostage to fortune. A leading bowler can find himself flogging a dead pitch that gives no assistance, as a moderate batsman smacks him round the park. Any edges fly into gaps, while the fielders drop sitters and dive over the ball. Youll bowl half as well tomorrow and take five wickets, will not change the 0 for 120 in the scorebook. For every hundred, five-for , partnership or blinding catch, there is the anguish of a duck, Chinese cut, collapse or dolly drop. Of course, the best sportsmen quickly erase the memory and make the most of the next opportunity. But cricket can be damned unfair sometimes. Perhaps that is what makes this the best of team sports certain individuals are destined to fail during a contest, often through no fault of their own. Those players in form or enjoying the rub of the green must win or save the match for those whose touch or luck has deserted them.

All of the cricketers mentioned in this book have played to at least first-class level, so any failure was a mere blip in a highly successful career. I wish I had even half their ability! But I do hope that their struggles will provide consolation for the rest of us who never reached such lofty heights. No blushes are spared on the cricket field, whether you are Bradman or Hammond, Sobers or Tendulkar. Sooner rather than later the cricketing gods will smack you to the ground and give you a kick in the guts while youre down there.

Amidst the sense of loss and futility, however, the occasional moment of glorious achievement makes it all feel worthwhile. Why else would we keep coming back for more punishment?