England vs India Series Review: The Jaffas and the Filth

After India eventually eventually crumbled like the The Oval surface they were flailing on, England took a clean sweep of a series played over more than three Tests for the first time since their 4-0 home defeat of the Windies in 2004. They were incisive, methodical, skilled and ruthless in their dismantling of an India side that only a few months previously had pushed the Proteas to the very limits of an almost unheard of home defeat (the 2009 bottle-job to Australia apart). While the rankling over the tourists’ over or under preparation will justifiably rumble on for long to come, nothing should detract from the manner in which England have gone about their business this summer. They’ve been as clinical as Hattie Jacques dipped in Toilet Duck.

There are many more for both categories, but here are the jaffas and filth of the series.

The Jaffas

Behind David Saker’s rosy cheeks

Despite having similar charisma levels I trail behind Simon Hughes on the analysis front, but even to me it was quite clear that England had tightened up their attack plans since the turgid Sri Lanka series. Whether this was the obvious, such as Stuart Broad bowling balls that brought dismissals other than gloved behind into play, or the more finessed executions derived from painstaking analysis of wicket grid maps for each Indian batsman, in Saker England have found their most incisive bowling coach since, well, their last Australian bowling coach. He might look like a Somerset butcher, but he’s as sharp as a pint of Farmhouse cider. The fact he’s clearly a hugely likable bloke who seems to be comfortable with the Swann banter as well as the Tremlett shoulder-armrounding is not an insignificant factor either. Flower and the entire backroom team’s relations with the players make the whole Pietersen-Moores debacle seem a lot more than two years ago.

Credit due: England’s new nightly bed bath routine paid rich dividends

England’s relentless batting

For all the brilliance of Broad, Swann, Bresnan and, in the end, Swann, even the mightiest bowling attack looks mightier when their deliveries are propelled by the pressure of a absurdly weighty scoreboard. In South Africa and the West Indies, India’s hosts only passed 400 only once: South Africa’s mammoth 620 in Centurion to set up the win that was cancelled out in the next Test and then came within two Kallis superhuman efforts of being overhauled. England’s top scores in this series were, in order, 710, 591, 544 and 474. Absolutely monstrous and even if that’s the same way you regard the way Cook and Trott got many of them, there was still enough to delight the artistry fetishists in KP and more particularly Bell’s accumulation. If Graham Gooch still had a moustache it would be bristling like there was no tomorrow.

Amit Mishra and Praveen KumarIn a rare piece of foresight for this blog, I did actually predict that Kumar would be a handful throughout this summer (see comments), and while suggesting a punchy, swingy seamer might do well in English conditions may not be much of a threat to Nostradamus, I was still delighted to see him come up trumps. Able to bowl the one that nips both ways coupled with late, dippy inswinger – his entrapment of a well set Trott at Lord’s was a good example – PK was undoubtedly the high point of the Indian attack. He was nearly the high point of the statisticians almanack to boot with his near fastest ever Test half-ton and he just seems a player to relish. Mishra, meanwhile, was my second tip to do the business after seeing his (curtailed by injury) performance in the Caribbean. In hindsight, perhaps it was rather naive to think he would cause Alastair Cook as many problems as he did Brendon Nash, but he did at times turn the ball a prodigious amount on that tour. It didn’t happen here, but, as befits a man whose default demeanour is that of Tony Soprano with a hangover, he somehow found a way to prove he has the Bada Bing required for Test Match cricket. A non-spinning spinner who knuckles down in trying circumstances and wins people’s respect through attrition rather than showmanship? We all know how much Duncan Fletcher loved Ashley Giles and I think Mishra is a superior all-round player. Here to stay.

Rahul DravidI prefer Maradona but I quite enjoy a bit of Pele‘s genius, too. Surely these positions aren’t entirely contradictory?

Stuart BroadIt’s a guilty secret, but I’ve never really disliked Stuart Broad. For all the preening, pouting, cosseting and blond highlights, I’ve never quite been able to allow them to surpass his spells at The Oval and Durban in 2009 in the way I’ve thought about him. God knows I’ve wrestled with my feelings, wondering if my proclivities would ever be accepted my mainstream society or if I would have to forever live a lie pretending that machismo role models like Rory Hamilton-Brown were the apple of my eye. After his performances this summer, I can wonder no more. Like so many of the Indian batsmen who faced him this summer, I’m out!

The Filth

VVS Laxman It’s a struggle to stop my hands rising from the keyboard and throttling myself for the impunity of this categorisation, but VVS had a bit of a stinker. Like the Enlightenment sneering back at the Renaissance, technique overcame aestheticism in this series and this was never more evident than Laxman having his poles routed by Anderson. There was glimpses of his genius in patches, but when India needed the Laxman of Kingsmead – that is, essentially the Laxman of most times since his debut – he couldn’t, on this occasion, deliver. He remains, however, the grit and the oyster in the Indian line-up. Even at his age, he will be back. Oh lordy, he will be back, won’t he? Please say he’ll be back.

The Spits and spatsEven during the Ashes I can’t recall their being so much vitriol between two sets of fans and media, and I say that in full remembrance of Ians Chappell and Botham’s little handbags session in an Adelaide car park. From Ravi and Nasser to Jonathan Agnew and half of the Indian fans on Twitter, there’s been a waft of something in the air that wasn’t quite cricket. Fueled initially by BCCI obstinacy over DRS and then fanned by the English triumphalism, it meant that even though the series fizzled out as a contest on the pitch the contretemps continued to sizzle off it. I got the impression some bits of the UK media had about as much respect and knowledge of the Indian team’s previous achievements as they did about Kun Aguero’s, who apparently played his first ever football match recently on debut for Manchester City. Equally, the denigration of other journalists on Twitter by some Indian fans was, frankly, a bit too sparky for me at times. I’m all for a bit of banter. Well, actually I’m not. I hate banter. I can’t do it. But when Rahul Dravid’s magnificence becomes a mere sideshow to the wars raging over his dismissal something has gone awry. Come on, cricket folks! There’s no need for such antipathy. I don’t loathe even Matthew Hayden one iota as much as some cricket fans hated each other on the cybersphere this summer.

Hit that!: Sree’s legendary daggers again come to the fore

India’s quicks

For a short spell in the second innings at Lord’s and the first at Trent Bridge Ishant bowled like a man possessed. The rest of the time he bowled like a man possessed by Martin McCague. He is so frustrating, with, in my opinion, infinitely more natural ability than Sreesanth (as Ricky Ponting will unhappily testify), but both of them lost heart and direction as the series progressed. It feels like a longer road back for Sree, whose attempts to act all Clint Eastward would be seriously less hampered if he wasn’t sporting the hair of Mrs Mangel. That’s undeniably a very cheap, puerile shot but, in my defence, just the type of cheap puerility Sreesanth seems to enjoy. Ishant finished as India’s leading wicket taker, although he in all likelihood wouldn’t have if KP had played the final Test. A bit of Lilleefication to get him back on track?