In Defence of Clicky Ponting

GH is bemused to be filing from Denmark

Et Al has spent three weeks in Denmark, far from even the thought of cricket, though interested to see if and in what form it might reach him. Would England appoint a Test coach and captain? Would something extraordinary occur in The Hundred? Given my whereabouts, would it be Ole Mortensen announcing a comeback? In fact, none of the above - forcing its way into global headlines were the seemingly nefarious doings of Saltburn CC’s Second XI in the North Yorkshire and South Durham League.

The hapless malefactor has been outed as auction house company secretary Brian Devine, videos of whom have been viewed six million times, resulting in his suspension and an investigation. And you must wonder: could clubmates really have been oblivious to those supple fingers of his? There are as few secrets in dressing rooms as there are atheists in foxholes, and cricket, for all the lilywhite reputation it enjoys, has a history of winking at sharp practice. It’s two hundred years since the extensive ploys of England’s leading cricketer, Lord Frederick Beauclerk, provoked these lines:

My Lord he comes next, and will make you all stare
With his little tricks, a long way from fair.

The sorry tale started on social media, where it garnered a catchy name (‘Clicky Ponting’), and was amplified by sources respectable…..

…cynical….

…analytical….

….and satirical - (this being our confreres at TGC).

The great Murray Sayle once distinguished between tabloid scandals by reference to two types of headline: ‘Arrow Points to Defective Part’ (system failure) and ‘We Name the Guilty Men’ (human failure). Here was a satisfying instance of the second, perfectly timed for the post-World Cup sports lull, with the opportunity for internet sleuthing afforded by the live-streaming and archiving of recreational cricket on the England Cricket Board’s Play Cricket platform - which I actually find the story’s most fascinating, and frankly overlooked, dimension. But first things first.