The applause through which you walked out, the attention to detail as you picked up tiny, loose fragments off the pitch, tapped it- like a drummer would do his drums all seem to lead up to your best. The guard, the steady head, the silence and the stance included- toe the line you drew. Your aspirations cause you to be nervy, but your reputation loads your legs and somewhat anchors them. Come on! You have done this countless times- get in line and watch the ball thud into your bat. Woah, but as you are caught in this box of thought, the ball flaps out a trick, it grins mischievously and begins to swerve away- luring you to push your limits of modesty, to indulge in a bit of a youthful flirt. And before you realise your folly, it flies off the edge of your bat and falls into the cupped hands of the slips- as beautifully as a basketball does a 3 pointer.
The modus operandi seems to work with unwavering precision, nicking out batsmen, nipping their reputation and flinging it into the junkyard. How well has it been rehearsed! How nonchalantly executed! Look up and you will find a wry smile from a face that doesn’t indulge in much of it otherwise. The wind shall seem to blow to his orders and ball swerving to his whims. It’s the seam and the swing that have foxed you. The oldest villains in the game!
In a placid world, James Anderson would have been stuck in a profession that wouldn’t allow for much creativity and flamboyance. But in the real, imperfect world, he creates his own wobbly masterpieces, scouring through hordes of batsmen, as if in a quest to find the best among them- one that could stand his tests, trials and tribulations. In his eyes one sees, a cold rancour against those that earn their livelihood by brandishing their willows and what comes out of his wrists, gives one the opportunity to marvel at the ability of the human form. For those that don’t believe in magic, a session spent watching him bowl should do enough to begin a revision of that very belief.
If Anderson ran in and went through his delivery ritual, without actually delivering the ball, it would be hardly inspiring, to even the most imaginative minds. The run up itself is nothing elaborate, the leap is a ritual, the landing is a swift thud and the roll of his shoulder leads to his head falling off without actually being in a position to see the ball through. But, when the same is repeated with an actual delivery, the outcome is almost always sharp and scathing. He is a peculiar bowler despite being very conventional and conservative, for his inherent tendencies -some of which in most ways defy the postulates from a coaching manual on fast bowling- show up quite frequently. Yet he goes on, uncluttered by theory and dogma, in his inimitable way, churning out unplayable spell after spell of the most silken league of swing bowling.
Matthew Hoggard had grabbed the cricketing world’s attention through his bowling and the extravagant swing it generated. He also stood for what excess swing could do to a bowler. It was just too much to cause a doubt in the batsman’s mind and in fact always outside his extended reach. So it wasn’t until he had perfected the art of producing a ball that would stay on its line, that he began tasting success. Perhaps Anderson too had learnt of this requirement then. As a youngster who was nurturing dreams of playing for England when Hoggard was already doing so, it must have been fascinating for Anderson to watch the ball do as much as it did when he was bowling, but must also have told him bluntly what monotony could do and what it couldn’t. In his first days as an international cricketer, his peers looked more menacing and more likely of being saddled with the responsibility of leading the English bowling attack. Anderson for his part, seemed to not know what his roles were. But, self-discovery is never a two second thrill, rather, a long and arduous journey. As he travelled and emerged- better, fitter and meaner- season after season, he outran and outperformed each of them. To look back, it just feels that he was competing against his own self and in doing so, he gradually transformed into the complete bowler he is today.
Batsmen are the masters of their finicky world and they can never imagine themselves being made to look inept. Nothing makes them look more than when they get squared up while trying to calm a sprightly, fizzing delivery. Nothing, more fragile than when the ball clatters into their off stump. Anderson has made a habit of this. He casually bowls the unplayable outswinger and slyly slips in a dart that comes searching for the stumps. Maybe he likes to see them struggle and totter for a little while, while trying to play him before he finally turns them around for good. This is his set piece- arranged in great detail- that he unravels in every big spell. It is so obvious, that it seems even the batsmen know when and how they will be fished out. What can be a better attestation of a bowler’s prowess, his skills and his strategies than the sheer number of times he has breached the defences of some of world’s greatest batsmen?
Anderson belongs to the old school of fast bowling. In the deception, the angles and the ploys, he demonstrates a great deal of confidence in his own abilities and while he is on the prowl, there can never be an overtly merry time for batsmen. He will bowl the most unplayable ball ever and back it up with an absolute beast and go on relentlessly. Only those that are willing to shed their inhibitions about appearing vulnerable and play the ugly but effective game give themselves a chance to succeed against him.
Cricket has been blessed with a great and an unbroken lineage of fast bowlers. James Anderson carries the baton in this generation- one where the game has transformed most dramatically. England has done well to keep him restricted to test cricket where he can go on unabated without wondering about field restrictions and powerplays. He continues to lead their bowling efforts there and effortlessly picks a handful of scalps in every game that he plays. That is the obviousness he brings to fast bowling- the seam up, brisk variety- one that has thankfully not yet fallen to the survival technique called the slower bouncer. Test cricket lovers are truly fortunate to watch him go about his job and to cheer him on in his celebration. Truly, greatness couldn’t be given a more feisty, grumpy and blunt form. Old school!
It is also the same imperfect world, which has not given him the popularity and the adulation that goes with it, for where else would you see a great fast bowler- the greatest actively playing- running into bowl and still not being addressed in a nickname coined in awe of his abilities and saluting his accomplishments? Alas! He is still just James Anderson!
And while we wonder about how much more he will achieve, he would have picked his next fifer
The Longroom 