Big Bore left gasping for breath

It doesn’t take your full attention to notice Hollister when you walk past it. The stench of aftershave forms an alluring shield round the entrance, two beautifully constructed youths stand guard acquitted with nothing more than a tight-fitting pair of shorts and some flip flops, and a screen as wide as the Lord’s pavilion provides a live feed of the crisp blue sea on Bondi Beach, Sydney. Despite being an entirely American corporation, nothing could be more Australian on first glance. Exuberance, presumptuousness, audacity; you name it. After all, when the Australians do something, they do it best.

That is, except, for Twenty20 cricket. For all of cricket’s evolution and the modern acceptance of Twenty20’s importance to the prolonging of the game, Australia have taken their time to catch on. A benchmark set by English County cricket and triumphantly redefined by the Indian Premier League has yet to catch sight of the Big Bash which, on the basis of this year’s competition, is flailing far behind. But it isn’t for lack of trying.

As you would expect of anything the Australian’s produce, an absence of machismo there is not. Big stadiums, long boundaries and Shane Warne picking a fight are all part and parcel of the Aussie machine, but the invention of illuminating lights built into the stumps and camera’s installed into the umpire’s headwear are innovative ideas, if not entirely contributory to the game itself. But behind the cheerleaders’ pom poms and underneath the glamorous exterior that comes with the Twenty20 package, lies a dearth of talent that is halting the Big Bash’s attempt to rival India’s swashbuckling parade of carnival cricket.

Franchise structures are in place in a number of global Twenty20 competitions, most notably the sub-continent versions. Bangladesh and Sri Lanka have both recently hopped on the bandwagon, whilst England have implemented plans to rejuvenate a competition whose imprint remains the same from the moment the red tape was cut in 2003. Australia, themselves, have tinkered with the format of the BBL and have landed with a league of eight franchises based across the six states. But, whilst the IPL and its counterparts have managed to attract the finest foreign imports as well as unearthing some prodigious local talent, the BBL has relied mostly on home grown professionals to kickstart a tournament still in its infancy. Only two of the top twenty run scorers in this year’s contest are not Australian, whilst Lasith Malinga, Muttiah Muralitharan, Alfonso Thomas and Marlon Samuels represent the foreign contigent in the top twenty wicket-takers.

Daniel Christian, with five for twenty-six, boasts the only five-wicket haul by an Australian in the competition, and Aaron Finch, with his 111 not out for the Melbourne Renegades has the lone century. It is these figures that go a long way to explaining why the BBL is proving such a flop. A lack of interest from overseas, coupled with a demanding winter schedule for cricketers around the globe, render the timing and relevance of the Big Bash League inconceivable.

Shane Warne’s furious engagement with Marlon Samuels in a recent match may have looked like a typical ‘heat of the moment’ tussle at the time, but may have had underlying significance. Warne, never one to shy away from the media or publicity spotlight, may have had in the forefront of his mind that he’s playing in a tournament that not many people batter an eyelid at. A little bit of argey-bargey, a controversial ban and half a dozen headlines would go some way to increasing interest in a tournament that has provided as much entertainment as a comedy evening with Ian Chappell. Whatever the motive, interest has hardly fluctuated.

Australia’s attempt to climb on the Twenty20 bandwagon has been as smooth as Julia Gillard walking through the Gandhi Memorial. They’ve floundered, grasped for a foothold, tripped over and ultimately fallen flat on their faces. G’day mate.

George Curtis