Zac Crawley, a cricketing giant

Crowds, Covid and sport: could it get any crazier? I don’t mind about golf: no idiots yelling ‘Get in the hole’ at every opportunity. But Formula 1 without a few thousand petrol heads going berserk is even more tiresome than usual: a minor wheelspin at the start, then Lewis wins. One-day cricket in an empty ground will feel a bit odd. Not even a lone voice abusing Steve Smith in the upcoming games against the Aussies. Sport as purely a TV event is pretty limited.

A friend had missed the PM’s volte-face on letting small crowds into the Bob Willis games, so was turned away when he tried to buy of tickets for the Oval. He was with his granddaughter, so they headed to Harrods instead, where a jolly time was. But what a topsy–turvy world where you can’t get into the sweeping acres of the Oval but you can mingle with other punters in a big department store. One law for shoppers and another for the beleaguered cricket fan. If it’s not the BBC trying to murder the game, it’s our masters in Westminster.

At least English cricket has unearthed a real find — all 6ft 5in of him: Zak Crawley, of the diffident smile but unflinching confidence once he dons his helmet. He’s our own Labuschagne, piling up the runs. Or even mighty Matthew Hayden. Most of the greats have been smaller — something to do with a lower centre of gravity perhaps: Bradman, Tendulkar, Lara, Gavaskar. Will we be mentioning Crawley in that company in years to come? Don’t rule it out. He bats with immense grace and power, off the front and back foot. When he hits the ball it stays hit: you wouldn’t want to be the fielder trying to stop some of those offside punches.