Monday, July 15, 2013

After Trent Bridge: The DRS

The drizzle that’s been hanging around for the past couple of days cut the morning walk, which was going to be devoted to deliberations on the Decision Referral System, short, but that doesn’t mean I need more time to sort these things out in my own mind. In fact I had things more or less done and dusted before I turned around at the Sound Shell and headed back into town.

It’s fairly obvious when you take a look at the score card that the runs Broad scored after the incident that had everyone talking were a key component in the final margin, and when you factor in the runs Bell contributed at the other end through that seventh wicket partnership you’d have to say poor management in our approach to the DRS was one of the factors that cost us the game.

Not, by any means, the only factor, but it was a significant one. It’s something that needs to be addressed as a medium to long term issue until the current DRS regime is modified, and once it is we need to make sure we address it again.

Before we go too far with the issue, of course, we need to remind ourselves why it’s there and what we’re looking to do. Those considerations should be part of an overall reassessment of where the Australian team stands as far as umpiring is concerned.

For a start, there’s no point about going on about neutral umpires and repeating the old line about the best umpire in the world being unable to stand in an Ashes Test if he comes from England or Australia. Umpires have egos too, and it doesn’t do any harm to stroke them occasionally. You get more flies with sugar than you do with vinegar.

The other point here is that I suspect referral happy teams get an unconscious bump in the incidence of dodgy decisions because the umpire knows a referral will sort things out if he does make a mistake. That’s an unconscious thing, much like the situation when you have someone with a reputation for walking who stays put after a confident appeal.

I suspect these things end up delivering less rigour to the decision making process.

We know, of course, that the official version of the logic behind the DRS is the desire to eliminate the obvious howler, and we also know that cricket at the top level is a pretty ruthless business, so you can expect players will always be looking for an avenue through which an advantage can be gained.

Let’s stick with the official version, modified to reflect a healthy self-interest.

The DRS is there to avoid obvious howlers that end up costing us games. Obvious, innit?

There are slightly different considerations involved depending on whether you’re batting or bowling, but the key factor in the decision to refer or not to refer should be a definite No referral without consultation.

That, I think is where a fine or some other penalty comes into play. Fail to consult, lose the referral, cop the consequences. Double or triple the consequences for repeat offenders, quadruple it if their surname starts with a W.

When we’re batting there’s only one person the prospective referrer can consult, and that’s the bloke at the other end. It should be a case of batsmen who’ve been given out approach the partner, state their case and if the other bloke agrees you refer it.
So the bloke who may have feathered a snick through to the keeper goes down, reckons he didn’t hit it, the partner says I dunno, I heard something and it’s all over red rover.

If the subsequent forensic evidence suggests it shouldn’t have been referred, a penalty applies to both of them. You don’t necessarily make the penalty a financial one, you make it known that it happens, and you work it from there to ensure that there’s no suggestion that you’re referral happy and will do it at the drop of a hat.

The same basic point applies when we’re bowling, but the consultation should be between captain, keeper and bowler, with the T shape only being made when the consensus is that there’s something there.

If we have penalties for failure to follow the agreed protocol when we’re batting, there should be a reward for the bowler who gets asked about an LBW and responds that it might have been going down the leg side. Particularly when the umpire’s within earshot.

Similarly, if there’s a shout, a Not out, and no referral, a verbal check with the umpire might be interpreted as pocket-pissing, but see the above reference to flies, sugar and vinegar.

The key thing here is that you want, if at all possible, to have at least one referral, and preferably both of the little devils in hand around the eight-for and nine-for mark, at which point you can be a little more relaxed about these things, but I’d still like to see the innings end with at least one referral still in the bag, because that means whatever we’ve referred has been spot on, and we’ve probably ended up with fewer dodgy decisions anyway.

And, particularly when we’re batting, if we’re out of referrals before the eight-for mark it’d be obvious any penalties involved aren’t high enough.

Those penalties, of course, don’t have to be financial. It might be a case of assigning the individuals in question some chore that will induce a degree of banter and hilarity in the team situation.

Offenders become the designated luggage porters for the duration of the match as well as the next one, or until the next offender rolls into view.

That last bit is possibly going to be enough to ensure there isn’t another offender (or pair of ‘em) in a hurry.

Which raises an interesting thought. We have a team member designated to lead the victory song. Do we have a sergeant-at-arms, dispensing penalties for assorted offences? And, if not, why not?






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