Sivaramakrishnan "thrilled" to be named new United manager

After intense lobbying from the BCCI, Sir Alex Ferguson today stood down as manager of Manchester United to be replaced by former Indian leg-spinner Laxman Sivaramakrishnan. Ferguson, who is the most successful manager in the club's history, said he would have liked to have stayed on in the role but that the "intolerable pressure from Chennai" made his position untenable. Sivaramakrishnan himself said he had "a lot to offer British football" and was "thrilled, but not surprised" to be given the chance. 

Sivaramakrishnan: "Hugely excited" to be working with Phil Jones

New boss Sivaramakrishnan, or Siva as he's gratefully known to white people, will take over with immediate effect despite many in the game voicing concern over whether a cricket commentator with no previous experience of football at any level was an appropriate choice to take on Sir Alex's legacy. However, a spokesman for the club made clear that he was definitely the right man:

"There's a lot of nonsense suggesting that Sir Alex was forced out because India Cements threatened to come to Old Trafford and concrete over the pitch unless we appointed Siva - or "Sivs" as the players already like to call him - but this is just not true. The simple fact is that although Sir Alex has won 13 league titles, two Champions League crowns, five FA Cups and four League Cups, we felt that Siva's ability to explain the googly to the players in a slightly geeky manner would be far more likely to bring further success." 

The news has stunned the sporting world and divided opinion. Whilst many see the move as just another example of the BCCI's ever-increasing dominance, once impartial observer, a Harsha from Hyderabad, told a perplexed BBC reporter that this was a "wise and sensible decision in keeping with how lovely Mr Srinivasan's hair looks in moonlight". His comments led  to a fierce on-air row with a José from Madrid who kept stroking his chin and repeatedly telling confused viewers that, "Tim May is the Special One".

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Butt and Amir Appeal: Exclusive Court Transcripts Released

Court of Arbitration of Sport (CAS), Lausanne, 17th April 2013

Clerk of the Court: "All rise. Court is in session. Lord Chief Justice Sorbet will reside."

Lord Sorbet: "Mr Butt. Mr Amir. You are here to request your bans imposed by the ICC for spot-fixing be overturned."

Mr Butt: "That's correct, Your Honour."

Lord Sorbet: "And you, Mr Amir?"

Mr Amir: "Er, I don't know why I'm here. Salman made me come."

Lord Sorbet: "I see. But you would like to have your ban quashed, wouldn't you?"

Mr Amir: "I am from a small village."

Lord Sorbet: "Right, ok. Well, we'd better crack on. So what new evidence do you have to persuade me to strike out this ban?"

Mr Butt: "Just bear with me, Your Honour. I'm going to show you a video."

Lord Sorbet: "Very good, Mr Butt."

Mr Butt plays VT of Chennai versus Bangalore.



Butt points at the screen: "Look at that, it's massive! Look at the size of it!"

Lord Sorbet looks confused.

Mr Amir: "Dear, oh dear. Amateur hour. Not in the least bit subtle."

VT ends.

Lord Sorbet: "Right, Mr Butt. So your defence rests on pointing at RP Singh's front foot and saying, 'Look at that, it's massive!'"

Mr Butt: "Er, yes, Your Honour. It happens all the time. No ball, schmo-ball. Come on, have a heart!"

Lord Sorbet: "And this proves your innocence how exactly?"

Mr Butt: "Well, you know, Your Honour. Shit happens."

Lord Sorbet: "Indeed it does, Mr Butt, but I cannot permit this appeal. You are required to submit relevant new material evidence and everyone knows that there's nothing dodgy about matches in the IPL."

Loud guffaws are heard all round.

Lord Sorbet: "Silence in court! Mr Butt! Will you please control your party in the public gallery?"

Mr Butt: "Yes, I'm sorry, Your Honour." [Now shouting] "Mazhar, stop sniggering. And put that ice-cream down."

Lord Sorbet: "I'm afraid I have no option but to reject this appeal. Have you anything to say?"

Mr Butt: "Yes, Your Honour. Why does the CAS sit in Switzerland? It's bloody freezing."

Lord Sorbet: "Oh don't make a fuss, Mr Butt. Haven't you got a jacket you can borrow?"

Mr Butt: "Er, I don't think Wahab's here today, Your Honour."

Lord Sorbet: "Oh, for heaven's sake! And you, Mr Amir?"

Mr Amir: "I am from a small village."

Lord Sorbet: "Lord above, give me strength. Case dismissed!"

All exit to conduct soul-searching interviews with Michael Atherton. 

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Pies and Pressure: The IPL is no place for the weak-minded

Compared to a few other members of the Test Match Special commentary team, Geoffrey Boycott is a renaissance man when it comes to knowledge of world cricket. Listening, as is strongly recommended, to his regular ESPN podcast Bowl at Boycs, he exhibits an appreciation of the global game and its foibles which goes well beyond the often somewhat parochial confines of TMS and, at times, Sky broadcasts. When live on air, it's pretty unlikely you'll ever hear him say, "Not seen this lad before. Turns it," which is often David Lloyd's stock delivery for any young spinner from beyond the shores of Britain, and Boycott's willingness to interpret disputes such as player versus country versus franchise in considered shades of grey flies in the face of his bluff reputation. 

In the latest episode, he gave this analysis of IPL: "Twenty-over cricket, we keep telling people, they can't give you situations where character and mental toughness comes in. Yes, there is lots of interest, lots of inventive shots, and there's quite a lot of skill. But the character and mental toughness that is needed for Test cricket is not there.....I enjoy watching it a bit, but I can't honestly say I want to watch every game because there is a lot of it, every day. And, you know, after a month or so of that, it's like my mum. When she was alive, she was a lovely cook. She used to cook me steak and kidney pie, I loved it. But if I had it on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, by Friday I was fit to throw it at her. I wanted something different.." Some reasoned pros and cons about the tournament there, and who doesn't enjoy a Boycott analogy involving both his mother and her cooking, but surely he's not right to assert there's no mental toughness required in T20? 

The stakes may not be so high in an IPL group match as a gala Test, but they can sharpen far, far quicker. Boycott is beloved of seeing dot balls in Test cricket in order to build pressure and "make something happen" and the IPL serves up his theory in microcosm time and time again as teams in comfortable positions lose what should rationally be an irrelevant wicket, but then allow the few inevitable dot balls which accompany a rebuilding to flare up into the cricketing equivalent of a boil. The need to then lance it all too quickly often involves wild flailing as seen by KKR's Manoj Tiwary and Yusuf Pathan, the latter of whose once destructive batting has sadly come to resemble a bear with a gun wound playing golf. His side lost their nerve and the match, a scenario very nearly replicated by RCB after losing the wicket of AB de Villiers when well positioned. In T20 two or three dot balls towards the end of an chase wreak mental havoc. Established Test players feel it as well as young rookies, Kohli's involvement in a farcical run out closely followed by his own slap to cover dismissal being a case in point.

On his Test debut in 1999, Michael Vaghan walked out to face Donald and Pollock at the Wanderers with the score on 2 for 2, a situation which soon came to look quite rosy as England lost another two wickets without scoring a run. The two-hour 33 Vaughan went on to make in that innings would have been impossible without mental fortitude - for anyone let alone a debutant - but it was still paltry in terms of time compared to Atherton's ten and three-quarter hour 185 not out at the same ground four years earlier. Atherton said that the length he was at the crease actually enabled him to go into what he, somewhat sheepishly, called "the zone" where he just knew he wasn't going to get out. It's unlikely Vaughan ever felt like that during his frenzied 119 minutes in the middle. This isn't to suggest an equivalence between the two innings, merely to propose that time can eventually cut both ways when it comes to pressure. 

A test of character can be equally challenging whether short and sharp or prolonged and subtle. In Test cricket pressure is like water torture, the slow build-up of drips nibbling away at a tiring brain. In T20, it's more like water-boarding - sudden, shocking and arguably completely unjustified. There's no time to stop and assess situations and, consequently, players react in accordance to their perception of what the pressure is rather than the reality. The result is inevitably errors and more pressure, now increasingly justified. The IPL clearly does not provide the elongated examinations of a player's mentality that Atherton or even Vaughan were subjected to, but anyone suggesting it doesn't provide situations which test character is plainly, as Boycott himself might say, "not right in the head". 

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Sri Lankan President named ODI captain; denies political influence a factor

Sri Lanka's President, Mahinda Rajapaksa, today said he was "humbled and, of course, very surprised" at being made the country's new ODI captain. Rajapaksa, who once made a breezy 12 not out for his school side fifty years ago before going on to lead his nation, claimed he had been picked on merit and was already planning who to open the bowling with at the Champions Trophy in June. He went on to dismiss further rumours he would have had his party MP and Sri Lankan chairman of selectors, Sanath Jayasuriya, deported if he hadn't named him skpper as "not entirely true." 

President Rajapaksa pushes back the field following the end of the bowling powerplay

Explaining his longstanding love of the game and the strategic planning he believes will make him the "Sinhalese Brearley", Rajapaksa told a packed press conference:  "There's a lot of nonsense talked about whether I'm the best man to put a smile on the face of Sri Lankan cricket fans. Just because I built a new stadium in Hambantota where you need a plane to get to the nearest hotel doesn't mean I don't think about the little people. The fact I named it after myself doesn't mean I'm a megalomaniac either. People jump to conclusions. Why doesn't that Vivian Richards get such criticism because of his stadium in Antigua? These double standards sicken me, to be honest." 

Jayasuriya himself, who has earned praise for his fierce independence from politics in his new selection role, also leapt to his party leader's defence:  "Look, everyone knows that I'm an MP for Mr President's party but that had no bearing on me choosing him as ODI captain. People say I'm a terrible sycophant, but they don't realise his off drive is as beautiful as his moustache and exquisite bone structure. While I'm at it, this other allegation is bugging me, too. Aparently, I'm now also a sycophant because I picked the son of one of my government's ministers whose cricket experience is limited mainly to him mistakenly putting on a pair of white trousers some years back. Well let me tell you, his father told me he looked damn good in those trousers!! And, in my defence, his T20 bowling stats are half-decent. I hope that stops the cynics' tongues wagging." 

Meanwhile, Sri Lanka Cricket secretary, Nishantha Ranatunga, who this week allowed his players to continue in the IPL despite the ban on them turning out in Chennai, said he was loking forward to working hard with the board's new President-elect Jayantha Dharmadasa to clean up the game's tainted image on the island nation. His only disappointment, he added, was that his brother, Arjuna, had eventually decided not to stand for the role: "Nothing would have sent a stronger message against nepotism and political interference in our cricket than two brothers and an MP running the whole thing," he said. "Well, technically two MPs if you count my bro', but he's in the opposite party to Sanath so it would all have evened itself out. Could I just add that I also think Mr President has a lovely moustache."

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Matt Prior: The best Wicketkeeper-Batsman-Diplomat in the World

For some, Matt Prior used to be harder to warm to than an iceberg in the shape of Jimmy Savile. Perceived as brash and mouthy, the once fumbling keeper came close to being regarded as almost a proxy Pietersen, a South African import whose mucky aggression simply wasn't on within the gentler confines of the English game. His constant twangy chuntering behind the stumps grated and, when his pregnant wife Emily was caught on the big screen bouncing on the knee of Allen Stanford during the Super Sixes in 2008, the sight was greeted with sniggering delight in many quarters, a sort of deserved comeuppance for her husband's too sparky and unjustified on field confidence. 

This was always a jaundiced, uncharitable view of England's Third Test saviour, but  regardless, Prior has now undoubtedly emerged as not only an exceptional wicketkeeper-batsman, but an outstanding individual within the England side. Other players split into factions during the KP text scandal faster than Indian fans discussing Sachin's retirement, but Prior instead acted as intermediary, picking up his own phone and calling Pietersen to find out the root of the discontent. His attempts at diplomacy were as commendable yet futile as his brilliant second innings 73 in the subsequent match at Lord's, but amid all the media leaks and parody accounts, it was a simple and impressive gesture that offered a previously not fully appreciated side to his character.

Matt Prior this winter against India and NZ: 7 matches, 569 runs at 71, 16 catches. Exceptional stuff. #NZvEng
— Pavilion Opinions (@pavilionopinion) March 26, 2013

When further IPL grumbles bubbled up earlier this year Angus Porter, the chief executive of the Professional Cricketers Association, attracted much derision by claiming England players were "substantially underpaid" given their restricted participation in franchise T20 tournaments. Against a backdrop of press and fan cynicism, Prior, now in the guise of trade union rep rather than diplomat, was the one who fronted up for interview, speaking of the "frustration" in the side and making the oft-heard  but valid point that the IPL and its derivatives are not going away and that England had players who wanted to play in them (though ironically he went unsold at the latest auction). Despite hinting heavily that the ECB should consider rescheduling the early season Tests which clash with the IPL, he sounded reasoned rather than money-grubbing or shifty, something those defending a desire to shack up with a franchise haven't always managed. Whether or not people agreed with him, he had again popped his head above the parapet in the interests of more than a few of his team mates, who clearly shared his sentiments but not his willingness to speak up. 

Even after his astonishingly breezy 110 not out to save the Auckland Test, Prior was keen to praise others' efforts over his own, singling out Panesar and, in particular, Broad's innings and noting the work his much maligned team mate had done in the nets which had enabled him to bat for 137 minutes to make a 77-ball six. Prior has little to be modest about, however, in light of his own record. In twenty series for England he has averaged below 30 on just four occasions and his relentless dedication to improving his keeping has been rewarded with comparisons to Alan Knott, a rare achievement for any glovesman. He actually rates his favourite catch as one which wasn't - a leg side diving take of Shane Watson not given during the 2010/11 Ashes - because it was a technique he'd practised thousands of times with coach Bruce French in the hope of making it count once in a match. For all his genius qualities, it's difficult to imagine Dhoni undertaking such a  regime. 

Twitter has been engaging in a game of Prior versus AB de Villiers top trumps. Choosing a winner is probably neither necessary or possible, suffice to say that the Sussex stopper has performed consistently well over 65 matches as a Test keeper compared to the fourteen in which de Villiers has had the gloves (albeit, in which, he has been outstanding). Prior himself has been tweeting about his run of poor form when playing credit card roulette to see who pays for dinner on tour, not a way of footing a bill perhaps the average fan can empathise with but harmless enough fun for the professional sportsman. He's lost nine out of the last ten, which one imagines has put a substantial dent in his IPL wages lacking wallet, but he shouldn't be too worried. After his efforts at Eden Park - the culmination of an astounding winter -  Matt Prior should really never have to buy a drink for himself again.

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The Art of Homework

Sun Tzu is the Chinese overlord who most readily gets dredged up when it comes to questions of Australian leadership in cricket. The vaunted 6th century BC general's treatise on battle strategy was apparently much beloved by former coach John Buchanan and, perfectly and trend-settingly, slipped under the hotel room door of each member of his 2001 Ashes squad. Absurd as it may have been to equate warfare with cricket, even that tinged with his captain Steve Waugh's love of provoking "mental disintegration" among the opposition, the sentiments rested easily with Australia's 1989-2005 dominance of the then vanquished and pitiful English.  

Mickey Arthur, Australia's present coach, has perhaps instead been studying the tactics of another Chinese general, Tan Daoji, who formulated thirty-six stratagems for war. They encompass numerous scenarios of battle but possibly the one held most dear by the former South Africa manager would be the maxim to "Sacrifice the plum tree to preserve the peach tree," or in layman's - that is, Wikipedia's - terms, to accept that, "there are circumstances in which you must sacrifice short-term objectives in order to gain the long-term goal. This is the scapegoat strategy whereby someone else suffers the consequences so that the rest do not." A further illustration is given of this methodology:

"Cao Cao [another esteemed warlord] demonstrated this strategy. During a siege, Cao's supplies ran low so he called in the supply captain and told him to dilute the rice with water to save grains. When the soldiers started to complain, Cao ordered for the captain to be killed. He would explain to his troops that the captain had been selling supplies to the enemy. This raised the army's morale and they were victorious in a few more days." 

Referring to the original fruity analogy, Shane Watson - and to a lesser extent Mitchell Johnson, James Pattinson, and Usman Khawaja - are the plum trees in this particular device, but with regard to the example one might suggest Kevin Pietersen feeding the South African enemy in summer 2012 would be the most obvious modern symbol. You have to replace rice with texts to get the feel, but the spectre of Pietersen's misdemeanours undeniably hovers large over the Australian farce. Last summer as now a man who perceives himself bigger than the team ethos is given a slap down, had his plum tree uprooted and burnt on the barbecue of unity. Then, as now, conventional wisdom started to harden in support of the management establishment of the respective side, with a rallying round of support for the bravery of the leader whose peach tree will surely bear fruit in the future. For Giles Clarke it did, but it's a moot point whether it was incompetence or reintegration that brought that about.  

Great stock has been placed in the fact this was not an difficult task to undertake for the Australian four: Provide three suggestions on how to improve both your own and the team 's performance - if you can't be bothered to do that then you don't deserve to be playing for your country? This is fanciful. Across the planet talented people, skilled in their field, are asked to submit to the whims of of their managers' ad hoc notions of advancement. Show me an NHS surgeon who believes completing self-assessment forms improves the way they wield a scalpel and I'll show you an empathetic article on race relations by Dean Jones. The gravitas "The Task" has assumed is in inverse proportion to the details of its stipulations, hotel doors, texts and so forth. As any teacher knows, you don't set the most important task for your students to do as homework because some of them, however talented, just simply won't complete it. If something is of great consequence you make them work on it in class - or team meeting - where you can observe them hunched over in quiet concentration. Whether teenagers or cricketers, and there's admittedly a fair mingling of both mindsets in this scenario, if you don't then they'll wander off to do something more interesting - apparently golf in this instance - oblivious of how much it may be to their future detriment. Tut all you want, but this is what students do. Putting them in detention isn't always the best way to then help them pass their exams.

Mickey Arthur has a record of success which doesn't need any patronising, but he's called this one wrong. When Mick Jagger and Keith Richards were arrested and imprisoned for alleged possession of cannabis in 1967, the editor of The Times, William Rees-Mogg - not a man known for his rampant liberalism - quoted Alexander Pope by asking the simple question, "Why break a butterfly upon the wheel?". It was a plea for proportionality in punishment. That Australian four are as unlikely to produce a Pietersen 186 in India as they are to write an better song than Dead Flowers but we'll only know in the next twelve months, as Arthur's own version of England's misguided adherence to team unity plays out, what results his militaristic discipline will bring. Arthur's laudible theory may well be deserving of another Australian dynasty of success, but, in practice, it seems more like he'll be presiding over a field of withered and unpalatable Ashes peaches. 

Warne calls for bigger bats for Australians

After another humiliating display from Australia in India, fresh-faced cadaver Shane Warne has said his nation's batsmen should be given bigger bats when touring the subcontinent. Following hot on the heels of Monday's Part IV of the Warnifesto, where the leg-spinning legend demanded larger stumps with Advanced Hair Studio toupees for bails, his latest installment calls for Phil Hughes and Glenn Maxwell to use "a willow the size of Liz's sex drive so they can deal with balls the way she does!!! LOLZ! #loveLiz."

Waxing lyrical: Warne admits to "losing his wick" with Cricket Australia 

"Here is a suggestion from left field that will help our guys," he wrote. "Why not give them bigger bats whenever they face slow bowlers in India? At present the game is so unfairly weighted towards their spinners because they're allowed to bowl at our batsmen that it's just not a good contest for spectators. Failing that, we could just build a shed around Phil Hughes when he walks to the wicket. I'd like to see Ashwin get past that!! LOLZ! #lovesheds." 

Warne also criticised captain Michael Clarke's controversial decision to declare on Xavier Doherty in the first innings, blaming it for the left-armer's poor display during India's turn in the middle: ""Nothing beats knowing the captain has faith in you and will back you, as Allan Border did with me when I started. It means a lot, eases your mindset and boosts your confidence. I like Pup, but leaving Xavier stranded just a hundred short of his maiden Test ton was bloody stupid!! LOLZ! #lovePuptho." 

Despite a mixed reaction to Warne's latest plan of action, one Australian cricket observer begrudgingly admitted it was "still ten times more sensible than anything John Inverarity's said in the last six months," although Australia's chairman of selectors himself was unavailable for comment as he was too busy scowling at the air and rotating his excuses or, as he put it, displaying "Informed Shambles Management."

Dhoni: The Jowl in the Crown

As MS Dhoni brought up his maiden Test double hundred on Sunday the top Twitter trending topic in the United Kingdom was #Ndubzmemories. If you're unfamiliar with N-Dubz there's really no reason to change that state of affairs, but just note that the pop trio's lead singer is now known for - among other things - appearing as a judge on X Factor, the show to which MS Dhoni would most likely be matched if English fans were ever asked to compare ITV light entertainment programmes to Indian cricketers. 

Dhoni is seen in England as rich, glitzy but lacking in depth, his achievements often dismissed as a triumph of the glossy and brash in meaningless formats. Two IPLs and one Champions League trophy don't really register in the minds of many, mere trivial baubles with as much gravitas as Simon Cowell's implausibly high trousers. The triumph of captaining India to a World Cup is often breezily diminished because of the home location, a criteria for mitigation certainly not equally applied during his captaincy failures on English soil in the 2011 Test series. 

Dhoni two-thirds of the way to really trolling Jadeja. #IndvAus
— Pavilion Opinions (@pavilionopinion) February 24, 2013

Dhoni's relationship with N Srinivasan, the BCCI President, his Chennai Super Kings boss and head of the megalith construction company Indian Cements, is rarely noted in any great detail in the English press. His recent appointment as Vice-President of said firm would perhaps, however, be taken as further evidence of his establishment connivance, a cosying up to the head honcho to protect his position through politics rather than performance. It's certainly a rather unusual move - and there's little chance Alastair Cook will ever be made regional manager of Boston Tea Party, ECB chief Giles Clarke's chain of West Country coffee shops - but no one complained about patronage in 15th Century Italy, and what is cricket if not an extension of the Renaissance? Leonardo da Vinci's not the only man famous for his helicopter, after all. 

In the last two years, Dhoni has played 77 international matches in all formats and kept wicket and captained in each one. In the last two years, India have at times also been an utter shower. Their generally tranquil skipper has to take some stick for that - as Mike Brearley notes, "calmness can turn into or become a sort of detachment" - but today he made Duncan Fletcher's ever-swelling jowls wobble with delight as the put upon India coach applauded his knock, the highest ever for an Indian number six. So MS Dhoni is not perfect, but he moves Duncan Fletcher to display visceral pleasure. You can't say that about many players. Or, one suspects, N-Dubz. 

Shit Cricketers Sing

"Jessie's Girl” isn't a tune likely to make that many people's Desert Island Discs selection, but this week it emerged as an unlikely saviour in Monty Panesar's attempts to row back the tide of poor performances he endured in 2009. In an interview with the Daily Mail, the now rejuvenated Panesar spoke of how his season playing Sydney Grade cricket with Randwick Petersham a year later had brought him out of his shell and culminated in him singing the Rick Springfield soft rock standard at a Karaoke bar. "I surprised myself that night," Panesar said. “There’s no way I would have done that three years ago. But now? Well, you never know, I might even release a single in a few years’ time.” 

Not words for Beyoncé to lose sleep over, perhaps, but you can see a similar confidence in Panesar's tweets recently, and the days when his spin twin Swanny was a charmless bully towards him for not having the requisite banter quality also seem long gone - "Tell us another joke, Monty!" No sod off, Graeme, I'm busy doing an MBA. The Sussex tweaker has also worked with Neil Burns, the former Essex keeper who helped Nick Compton reach the England Test side by making him face a bowling machine in the dark as part of his esoteric but apparently very effective approach to mentoring, a job he does in between staring enigmatically into the middle distance in the manner Mark Nicholas presumably does on hotel balconies. 

Neil Burns: Snazzy mentor, snazzy jumper. 

The dark is something New Zealand's returning Ian Butler also enjoys. Well, he clearly enjoys the fact it necessitates floodlights, because he was unplayable – or at least unhittable - in his spell under them against England during Monday's Second T20I on a pitch which seemed more lifeless than horse on its way to Tesco's during the home side's innings. He was told he'd never bowl again in 2004 after a series of injuries, a prophecy a desperate England may briefly have wished had materialised. Eoin Morgan, in particular, was rendered helpless against Butler's sparkily-paced nibblers and after already having the England number five dropped, he eventually had his man taken in the deep. It was more a mercy killing than a wicket in all honesty, Morgan having scored just five runs off the 13 balls he faced from the Otago bowler. 

High Fives: The world's least acquiescent Butler celebrates

Butler is 31-years-old with a fresh but slightly grizzled face which hints at the physiological strife he's gone through. "My body is 10 times better than when I was 23. I look after it a hell of a lot better now. I try and tell people age is just a number. I still feel I've got four or five years left,” he told the New Zealand Herald with an admirable disregard for the march of time, despite the fact the past decade's injuries have robbed him of about ten of the 150 kilometres per hour he once possessed. It's Ross Taylor who has been feted as the returning hero of Kiwi cricket – a view perhaps based more on the public's judgement of Machiavelli/Murray Hewitt lovechild, Mike Hesson, than his record as captain – but Butler was the joyous comeback kid at Sneddon Park, his miserly nine runs conceded the joint 12^th most economical in history for any bowler who's completed a full four overs in a T20I.  

Hot fact: When Ian Botham appeared on Desert Island Discs he chose “I'm still Standing”, Elton John's jaunty tale of defiance in the face of adversity as his must-have song of choice to listen to whilst collecting coconuts and waiting. If you're in a Kiwi karaoke bar in the next couple of months and see a man in a patka duetting on that with a rugged-looking, chirpy native, do applaud their efforts politely. It will probably sound awful, but Panesar and Butler deserve a little sing song. 

The Dark Art of Captaincy

The toss for the first ever Test match between South Africa and Pakistan, held in Johannesburg  just over eighteen years ago, was ostensibly a noble affair. The World Cup holders were about to take on the country recently readmitted to the sporting world, with both sides led by an outwardly upstanding, outstanding leader. Sensitive noses could already smell something rotten in the state of Gauteng, however. Discontent had emerged in the Pakistan camp and rumours surrounding the teams' encounters in the recently concluded Mandela Trophy ODI tournament were already starting to waft around the press box. Unlike in this historic first five-dayer, ahead of the two finals of that quadrangular contest the away captain had won the toss in both yet inexplicably chosen to twice bat second. Pakistan lost the matches and ultimately their vice-captain, Rashid Latif, who left the tour enraged and suspicious at his skipper's apparent strategic absurdity. The long road to ignominy for the two men watching the coin flip in the air ahead of that Wanderers match, Salim Malik and Hansie Cronje, was taking another suspicion-laden twist. 

The 1995 Test itself would prove unmemorable for the neutral as an exuberant Fanie de Villiers inspired hosts obliterated Pakistan by 324 runs. Neither has this particular match ever been officially cited as dubious, but at South Africa's King Commission into match-fixing in 2000, Cronje testified he was offered $10,000 to throw the first final of that Mandela tournament earlier in Pakistan's tour, as well as tearfully owning up to numerous other instances of corruption. Malik himself denied allegations surrounding the ODI, but was formally charged in relation to it at the Qayyum Commission into his conduct. He was found innocent by way of lack of evidence on this specific charge, but was banned for life on other grounds, not least because the aforementioned Latif became a central figure to Justice Qayyum's investigations, voicing the suspicions  - and many others - he'd acted on with his feet five years earlier. In death Cronje - who was tragically killed in a plane crash in 2002 - continues to divide opinion and Malik has recently had his life ban overturned, yet the two captains at the Wanderers back then undoubtedly remain the Crick and Watson of the sport's corrupt genetic mutations, the pioneers who mapped out a path for others' human weakness to follow.

Again in Johannesburg, South Africa and Pakistan have just concluded their nineteenth Test against each other with thankfully very little, if any, thoughts of such malfeasance hanging over the proceedings, not least because of the two captains heading the sides. Graeme Smith led in a Test for the hundredth time - arguments surrounding the status of his skippering of the ICC World XI in 2005 notwithstanding - evincing the same granite understatement with which he's been working the world's bowlers off his hip for the last decade. The man who was too young to lead has now finally seen off the legacy of South Africa's post-Cronje demons the same way he has three England captains. Similarly, and despite his simultaneously eyebrow-raising and eyelid-closing knock in the 2011 World Cup semi-final, Misbah-ul-Haq, the Great Administrator moonlighting as a cricketer, can be credited with Pakistan's return to respectability and beyond in the aftermath of Salman Butt and Co's spot of impropriety in 2010. On the third and fourth days, the veteran with a capacity for graft as vast as his regal nasal cavity gritted away valiantly for over four hours for his 64 but his efforts, alongside the equally stoic Asad Shafiq, were always doomed to failure in the face of Dale Steyn's taser of skills - talents which have now brought as many five-wicket hauls in winning causes as achieved by Hadlee, Lillee and Marshall.   

Butt is appealing his ten-year ban. Malik has been angling for a return to international cricket as Pakistan's batting coach, the chutzpah writ as large as his moustache. Recently another protagonist in the Cronje scandal, Henry Williams, claimed he'd lied at the King Commission, his motives and explanations confused and tangled, though potent enough to allow the matter to creep back into the headlines. Cricket's air is still tainted by these and other more contemporary suspicions and another leader in the news had it right when it comes to all sport's hoodlums. From fixated footballers to juiced cyclists to those two at the Wanderers back in 1995, the recently cleansed Richard III sets the standard for all those who seek to deceive the masses in the hunt for self-enrichment: 

"And thus I clothe my naked villany

With odd old ends stolen out of holy writ; 

And seem a saint, when most I play the devil."

Four hundred years before Cronje and Malik walked out to the middle under the Johannesburg sun, wily old Shakespeare had already recorded their epitaphs.