Instinct vs Pragmatism

Two conflicting cases were made, one for instinct and the other for tactical pragmatism, late on the second day of the first Test. On the one hand, converted opener Virender Sehwag batted freely in a cavalier innings of 84 off 96 balls before his attacking tendency brought about his dismissal with only three overs of play remaining. And on the other, a conservative attempt to protect Sachin Tendulkar from the fray until the next day backfired when nightwatchman Ashish Nehra was trapped lbw in the last over. Talk about damned if you do and damned if you don't.

Firstly Sehwag, a highly promising Test batsman to put it mildly. From the start of his first innings as Test opener, effectively with Rahul Dravid, he played what appeared to be his natural game. Livelier wickets may be more informative, but the reputed technical deficiency outside off appears to be a myth. For Sehwag batting success seems mainly a matter of judgement, balancing his uninhibited strokes with due caution. For 84 runs, Sehwag was an attacking treat, until he walked marginally on the wrong side of that fine line.

Now, one could criticise Sehwag for impetuosity, of attempting too much against Giles, not putting his head down and playing for stumps, adapting to the situation, etc. However, one can't really have it both ways. Looking to hit a delivery on leg to mid wicket, Sehwag got an inside edge onto pad and it trickled onto the stumps. Bad luck. It happens. His unrestrained approach had just brought him 84 runs in the session, and if had happened five overs earlier, or five overs before that, the same case could have been made against him for throwing his wicket away when a Lord's debut century beckoned.

Just because stumps were looming should not make too much difference to the critique. Runs are runs, India needed them any time, and the fatal shot was not a special extravagance in the context of his innings. Sehwag reportedly won the opener's berth because of that positive approach. It would have been a different matter entirely had Dravid been dismissed attempting the same shot, as it would have been against the character of his innings. For Sehwag, it really wasn't.

Sehwag's knock was quite similar to the type often played by Michael Slater for Australia. Slater has been frustratingly dismissed around nine times in the 90s attempting the impetuous, sometimes towards the end of play. However, his overall record, and the number of matches he has influenced batting in that fashion, has vindicated the approach. As with Slater, Sehwag 's unrestrained method will sometimes be costly, but the upside is too great to hold him back, as was demonstrated by the start he gave India. Depending on the objective, one could even argue that Sehwag's contribution, including his dismissal, was more valuable than that of Dravid.

On the side of conservative tactics is the eternally confusing concept of the nightwatchman. Following Sehwag's dismissal, Ashish Nehra was sent out to prevent Sachin Tendulkar from facing the last three overs. That, by itself, was questionable. Whether it is worth potentially expending a lower order wicket to prevent an accomplished top order one from having to start and re-start an innings, possibly affecting run-making the next day, is dubious. It's certainly negative. What is definitely counter-productive, though, is when that nightwatchman attempts to protect not only his reticent team-mate in the dressing room, but also his well-established partner.

In the last over of the day, Nehra edged Flintoff to third man and elected not to take the single to get Dravid on strike. This defies logic. Nehra was sent in to protect what would have been a new batsman in Tendulkar, not Dravid. Dravid had been batting for two and a half hours without discomfort, making him eminently qualified to see out the remainder of play. And yet Nehra, just arrived at the crease and having survived two lbw appeals, was allowed to shield Dravid from the strike for the final few balls.

Surely, India needed to value all their wickets, irrespective of the time of day. It is ironic to think that had the same two batsmen just been brought together at the *end* of the innings, it would have been Dravid shielding Nehra instead of the other way around. What earthly difference does it make that it is the last over of a day towards the beginning of an innings rather than the end? Wickets are wickets, it's bad to lose them any time, and Nehra was obviously the more vulnerable of the two. Besides, if it was Tendulkar out there instead of Nehra, the secure Dravid could have played the shepherd and protected Tendulkar from much the strike anyway, which he would have been much more capable of doing.

The Australians were right to ditch this tradition (which, more than a tactic, is what it seems to be). The nightwatchman concept belongs to the past, the era of uncovered wickets, without a place in the modern game.

P.S. Simon Jones, Simon Jones, Simon Jones. We seek him here, we seek him there. We see him nowhere. Well, at least not until 14 ball-softening shine-dissipating overs had passed, anyway.

The new England fast man all commentators seemed to be talking about in anticipation lived up to his billing on his first day of Test action, with his sharp pace delivered from height. Jones' spirited innings of 44 before he took the ball was unexpected and entertaining, and doubtless did wonders for his confidence. So why did Nasser Hussain delay his entry into the bowling attack for so long?

High on confidence after his batting exploits, the pro-active course of action would have been to throw Jones the new ball with Hoggard and let him continue his momentum. Apart from allowing debut nerves to possibly build up after they must have been settled by his batting, the decision to hold Jones back until second-change after Giles was more importantly a waste of finite resources, i.e. the new ball. On a flat batting pitch, the optimum time to strike was with a new ball that may do something, as Zaheer Khan showed with both first and second. Yet Hussain kept his most explosive weapon in reserve.

Maybe the strategy was to bluff India by keeping them in anticipation, but after Hoggard bowled Jaffer in the first over it surely would have made most sense to attack the top order with raw pace to try to prise out more precious early wickets. It may not have worked, but on a flat pitch England would have lost nothing in the attempt.

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