Cook’s Epic Performance – An Alternative View

As the first Test between Pakistan and England finally petered out to its inevitable draw in the Abu Dhabi gloom, the match was already being celebrated for three things: 1) the extraordinary match statistics; 2) Alastair Cook’s epic innings; and 3) the statistics underpinning Alastair Cook’s epic innings.

Adil Rashid’s first-innings stats of nought for 163 were the worst ever for a Test debutant. His second-innings stats of five for 64 were the best by an England leg-spinner since 1959. These were truly career-changing figures. Rashid may play for England for another decade and his worst and best performances might always be contained within his first Test.

Cook’s 263 and Shoaib Malik’s 245 were the first time these scores had been achieved in Test cricket. Malik’s 245 was his highest Test score and his 248 partnership with Asad Shafiq was a fifth-wicket record for Pakistan.

But these are merely trifles. As when the BBC inadvertently mentions a brand name, other records are available. They are incidental to the main function of the Test, which was to elevate Alastair Cook to greater, more fantastical heights.

The England opener scored 263 runs over 856 sun-scorched minutes during which he faced 528 deliveries. This was the longest innings ever played for England and the third-longest of all time. His 263 was the highest innings by an England player overseas since 1932-3. Cook has now notched up eight centuries in Asia, the joint highest by an overseas player, a record shared with Jacques Kallis. Depending on which Cricinfo article you read Cook has scored the most runs, or the second-most runs, by a non-Asian batsman in the continent, vying one way or another, again, with Jacques Kallis.

The main theme of most match reports and, indeed, the usually more sceptical Twitter was that on the back of Cook’s extraordinary efforts, his gallant England team fell short of a famous victory by a mere 25 runs. Fifteen more minutes of play might have seen them home, just as six inches of carry may have brought victory against Sri Lanka earlier the previous summer. If only England’s moral victories counted. If only the umpires had intervened to prevent Pakistan time wasting. If only Root had gone on to score a century in the first innings. If only fine words buttered parsnips.

The truth is, the excitement of the last hour’s play was no more than the death throes of a match that had flatlined over four days. Rashid raised a pulse with a display that injected adrenaline directly into the heart, but England were never going to win this match on the fifth day. The rate was against them. The overs were against them. The light was against them. Even natural justice was against them. But most of all, the attitude they brought into the match was against them.

These thoughts, dear reader, are not an attempt to diminish Cook’s performance but to place it within a less excitable context.

Andrew Miller, in his Cricinfo report, sets the triumphal tone describing England’s run chase with Cook as its central reference point:

“Back in the dressing-room, Alastair Cook sat behind the lines like a decorated military commander – with his Victoria Cross already secured for his above-and-beyond endeavours in the first innings, there was no further need for the captain to lead from the front.”

Mike Selvey in the Guardian got closest to the truth, though probably not the truth he was seeking to promulgate in his report:

“Cook’s genius … is enshrined in a capacity for unwavering concentration, for hour after hour; in the stamina to maintain this in alien conditions where the sun beats down relentlessly; and for the ability to have a gameplan and stick to it with a puritan rigidity.”

For Selvey and many others, ‘Cook’ and ‘hero’ are interchangeable words, and this gushing piece, following day four, describes an epic effort by the skipper reminiscent of one or other saga chieftain:

“Cook has made hundreds for England around the globe, in all circumstances … But in the Zayed Stadium, there was something almost feudal about it: a lord of his 22-yard bleached and parched manor ruthlessly and methodically extracting his dues from the poor, downtrodden serfs whose lot in life is to fling a leather rag of a ball for his personal delectation.”

While the innings may have felt like it extended over 50 years, and while great efforts of concentration and character were demonstrated, it surely did not add to the canon of English cricketing folklore. There were no impossible odds. The pitch held no demons. The foe were not beasts. There was no sacrifice nor even a victory. It was prosaic rather than heroic; there was effort rather than sacrifice; he endured longevity rather than struggle.

In December 2009, Vic Marks reminiscing on Michael Atherton’s 1995 innings of 185 not out against South Africa referred to Atherton’s biography Opening Up in which the former England captain wrote:

“If he is lucky, a batsman may once play an innings that defines him; one that, whether he likes it or not, he will be remembered for.”

Atherton’s was a truly epic innnings. A rearguard action against overwhelming odds. It was a short chamber Boxer-Henry point-four-five calibre miracle backed up by a bayonet with some guts behind it. It is Michael Atherton’s good fortune that he will always be defined by that innings. Cook should hope that it is not his misfortune to be defined by the drift and pointlessness of his 263.

With Peter Moores gone and Paul Farbrace in temporary charge, England’s proactive style of play and positive intent against New Zealand across all formats delivered the re-invention and rejuvenation of England cricket promised and yearned for by administrators beleaguered since February 2014. Commentators started to speak about a re-engagement of the national cricket team with its fans, even though any such schism had been denied for 18 months.

This was the new model. Positive. Ambitious. Smart. The execution if not the drive fell away somewhat during the Ashes when England were more positive than smart, and regaining the urn was achieved largely because of a handful of exceptional performances and in spite of more widespread failures. The Ashes rarely reached the intensity of the New Zealand series and, to be frank, were a tad dull.

The model adopted for the first Test in the UAE followed the summer’s trajectory, abandoned positivity and ambition altogether, and settled for a dreary version of smart. Clearly still smarting from the heavy 3-0 Test defeats in 2012, when Cook achieved one 50 in six innings including scores of 1, 3, 5 and 7, the Bayliss-Cook leadership group tore up the post-Moores mission statement. They devised a game plan that looked back rather than forward, and embraced an orthodox, reactive strategy designed to avoid losing. It represented the same loss of nerve that crippled England’s prospects in the Rugby World Cup.

The nature of England’s intent going into the Pakistan series was not helped by the various question marks hovering over its personnel – Ali’s position as a makeshift opener, Bell’s continued worth, Buttler’s slump, Rashid’s value as a bowling all-rounder. The result and Cook’s record last time round clearly remained an open wound. The game plan, focused on not losing, inevitably established a climate of fear or uncertainty we all hoped had been expunged from the England mind set. For those most under pressure, this game plan meant there was no sanctuary in the much-vaunted natural style of play. The scoring rates of Ali and Bell tell a story. Ali’s rate was 26.71 against a career average of 47.63. Bell’s rate was 31.65 against a career average of 49.83. On a road. A stone dead road. A road that had kicked the bucket, shuffled off its mortal coil, run down the curtain … you get the idea.

Within this context, let’s praise Alastair Cook’s innings. It is praiseworthy. But there is context. His was around the 59th highest score in Tests. Only four of the fifty-eight above him scored more slowly than his strike rate of 49.81. None scored fewer than his 18 boundaries. Twenty-five Test batsmen have scored between 250 and 263 runs. Not one scored more slowly nor with fewer boundaries than Cook. At one point he went 36 overs without scoring a boundary. Almost half his runs were scored in singles.

The skipper batted like a metronome. He barely deviated from just above or just below a strike rate of 50.00. He was the heartbeat of a side that accumulated 598 runs at 2.90 an over. Regardless of match situation, bowler, pitch or time of day. As Mike Selvey told us, Cook’s genius was to establish a game plan and stick to it with a puritan rigidity. Even Baldrick had a cunning plan.

Pakistan batted at 3.45 runs an over for their 523 in the first innings. Faced with a big first innings deficit, England’s cautious approach was entirely sensible. To attempt Pakistan’s rate from the start would have been foolish. But taking a look at the fall-of-wickets position, at what point did England decide that the match, most likely, could not be lost and shift strategy by employing a more positive approach? Maybe at 285 for 3? Or 426 for 4? Even 534 for 6? In fact, each of these landmarks passed without any change of intent or meaningful change of pace.

England had established a lead of 26 when Cook was out. He failed to change the pace of his innings at any point. Was there a tipping point somewhere along the elongated batting timeline when his efforts to bolster the team shifted away from England’s best interests and towards establishing his place in history? Hell, how high does the defensive wall have to be?

Had England’s run rate been just 0.12 higher across the first innings, they would have won the match. That is one run every eight overs. The prospect of an unlikely win was triggered by a wholly unexpected Pakistan second-innings collapse. England had not prepared for that possibility. They had focused solely on avoiding the loss. They did not adapt to the changing fluctuations of the game, and were poorly positioned when the opportunity for a win suddenly emerged. Had England gone into the match with positive intent and smart thinking, they would likely now be one nil up.

During the closing moments of day five, Phil Tufnell on TMS suggested to Ed Smith, in a hesitant voice reminiscent of Oliver Twist asking for more gruel, that there may have been a case for thinking Cook could have kicked on a bit during the later part of his innings. Smith dismissed the suggestion, replying “that’s just the way he plays.” How attitudes change in 18 months.

@Tregaskis1