Is the 'spirit' of the game a myth?

The Australian players look on after Umpire Aleem Dar turned down an appeal against Stuart Broad of England during day three of the 1st Investec Ashes Test

It’s amazing how Sir Donald Bradman had achieved everything there was to achieve. An aura of pure magnificence protruded from every pore of his skin. If you were to achieve enlightenment as a cricketer, you’d see Mr. Bradman in that sub-conscious of yours. There was nobody like him and there almost certainly will never be anyone again.

Yet, despite all the praise, he fell short of a mere four runs. He had built an entire history and era of cricket with that bat of his, but when it came to scoring those four final runs, he failed. A man who stacked hundreds for fun, couldn’t hit four singles in his last inning. An amazingly tragic end to a blissful career. Bradman ended his career with an average of 99.94 runs per inning, four short of a magical 100.

Or did he?

The technology human beings possess today was the stuff of science fiction back then. Umpires didn’t have the luxury of referring to a man in front of a TV who could return to any part of proceedings on a whim. But what they did possess was common human error.

Many cricket historians and statisticians don’t rule out an umpiring error (or even the scorers’) with regards to Bradman’s average. A little tickle down to fine-leg may easily have been misinterpreted as a leg-bye, or a simple mix-up may have attributed a few of his runs to his non-striking partner. The possibilities are many, but the source is common human error.

As a cricketer back then, you could whine and wave your bat around in protest, but the decision did not budge. If you were out, you could say whatever you wished but in the end you’d have to find yourself in the pavilion.

England’s Jonathan Trott (R) and England’s Alistair Cook (2-R) wait for the third umpires decision before Trott was given out, Leg Before Wicket (LBW) during the second days play of the first cricket Test match of the 2013 Ashes series

The Ashes are off to an explosive start, with some excellent spells of bowling, fearless batting, and an unfair share of controversy. Two decisions that could have turned the match on its head have marred the brilliance that was on display at Trent Bridge, and rather than talking of the dramatic finish, we’re discussing the nuances and subtleties of making some really poor decisions.

Stuart Broad was quite clearly caught at slip, but he refused to walk as any decent man would, and the umpire refused to raise the all-empowered index finger. In a match that had so little between the two sides, Broad’s prolonged stay at the wicket is probably what turned the game in England‘s favour.

Similarly, Jonathan Trott was given out by the all-knowing Decision Review System, when logic suggested otherwise. This is when you question the theory of technology over the reasoning of man. But that is for another topic of discussion.

Umpiring decisions have remained static since the inception of cricket. Sure, there could be a different set of prejudices in each umpire’s mind, but taking the cumulative mindset of all umpires, all around the world, from all generations of the sport, it’s a fair assumption to make that each team has had an averagely biased umpire over the course of its history.

The difference is in the attitude of the player. It’s no sin to be disappointed by an umpire’s decision, but if you wish to throw tantrums in the hope of overturning a decision, gully cricket is best suited to you. Of course, a player gets into the thick of things, representing his country and its reputation, and in that hurricane of emotion, it’s very much possible to lash out and challenge a decision you believe is wrong. But to believe that it could be overturned by spouting a few choice words is wishful thinking and the stuff of dreams.

The fact must be accepted that umpires tend to make mistakes. They could cost the team dearly and it’s only natural to feel hard done by that, which is why technology has been brought in. It began with the TV umpire and has now reached the DRS system. But somewhere, while there is no denying that technology has improved the accuracy in decision making, the availability of these tools has made the modern cricketer far more apathetic to the decisions of the on-field umpire.

What the introduction of the DRS system has done is that it has allowed the players to legally display dissent to an umpire’s decision. And by limiting the number of reviews a captain can use, the player is further incensed when a decision goes against his favour and a review is already used up, as was the case with Broad.

There are always going to be a bunch of good things and a bunch of bad things that come along with every change that occurs in cricket, but we have to then ask ourselves how far can we go? There’ll be a time when the requirement of umpires won’t be needed, and players will be dependent on technology. And technology makes mistakes too, and Trott can give you a whole new article about that. Who do we complain to then?

The whole matter of ‘the spirit of the game’ is a highly ambiguous and questionable one. Wherever you add a moralistic connotation to anything in sport, or even life for that matter, you’re always going to question the degree to which various attitudes and acts are accepted.

What is spirit? Walking when you’re out, but not declared out by the umpire? In that case, why is there a need to leave if the umpire has given you out, when you’re quite clearly not? Either way, aren’t you disputing the umpire’s decision, all together refusing to adhere to it? Then is it that the umpire is not abiding with this so called spirit?

The umpire is the most powerful body on the cricket field. Not the players’ spirits. What you may find breaking all the laws of spirit, I may find perfectly alright. Cricket probably needs to introspect and see what it really wants. Until then, we’ll keep bickering and shouting at each other reaching no conclusion.