Groundsman’s revenge at the Oval, and reminders of grim episode that reflects poorly on India’s head coach, and on the power dynamics of elite cricket
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othing does irony quite like Test cricket. Say what you like about the world’s most desiccated, Miss Havisham-ish team sport, out there trailing around the post-colonial world still dressed in its yellowing wedding dress. It’s definitely got a sense of humour.
On day one of the fifth England-India Test this was expressed in cosmic terms, and a single bold and improbable dramatic arc. Talk about groundsmen a lot. Tell groundsmen they’re nothing. One thing is for sure. You’re going to find yourself spending quite a lot of time watching groundsmen.
Or in this case watching the personage we must now refer to as controversial groundsman Lee Fortis, celebrity Oval pitch curator Lee Fortis, an otherwise peripheral figure with a name that sounds like an Anglo-Saxon burial site in Norfolk, but who was promoted in the buildup to this Test into an instrument of the sporting-political power struggle.
