Dear Editor,

The government’s handling of the Dudus and Manatt matters invite comparison with a “rum and curry goat” cricket match. The typical player is long on bombast and short on talent, and the results can be very entertaining.

The game starts with the bowler delivering a slow full toss in the form of an extradition request. The skipper flashes at it and misses, but escapes with his wicket intact. A series of false strokes has the crowd buzzing, and he responds by presenting a dead bat to everything from that bowler. From the other end, the Manatt issue, a rank long hop is tossed his way. Again, the skipper goes after it, but after another false stroke, he takes refuge at the non-striker’s end, leaving stroke-play to others.

The aggressive Vaz immediately goes after the bowling. A flurry of strokes gave his side hope that he would force the bowlers out of the attack. Alas, after one big shot too many, Manatt produces a mystery delivery that ends his innings amid a clatter of wickets. His side feels a senior batsman is needed to deal with a situation threatening to get out of control, and Samuda comes to the crease. He plays quietly at first, then in a rush of blood goes for the big one and is stumped. There is a murmur in the stands and panic in the camp. What’s to be made of the batting side’s inability to punish the bowling? A captain’s knock is needed, but he’s a permanent non-striker. Are there demons in the bowling that nobody else can see?

The fielding side smells victory and is crowding every new batsman. Robinson refuses to come to the crease. Lightbourne and Leys who should be carrying the brunt of the batting cannot be found. “Something” has got to happen, but what? With his batsmen either already dismissed or in hiding, what can the skipper do? He does what any politician with his back to the wall does. He conjures up a distraction. He asks for a court ruling on whether this game should really be played anyway.

The glorious uncertainties of cricket.

Michael R Nicholson

kovsky54@yahoo.com