By Liam Brickhill
As a cricketing nation, Zimbabwe don’t have anywhere near the same currency (monetary or otherwise) as titans such as India or Australia. And in a world now permanently online, that’s as apparent on the Internet as it is outside, out there, in the ‘real’ world. But they’re still a presence, and stake a modest, yet significant claim amid the 300 hours of video uploaded to YouTube every minute. My research into Zimbabwe’s cricketing history sometimes means digging into some soggy, statty corners of the internet (I’m looking at you, CricketArchive.com), as well as roving through aeons-worth of cricket footage online. Research never looked so much like procrastination, but there are some real gems out there and XI of these I would like to share with you, dear reader. And so, here are my candidates for The XI Best Zimbabwean Cricket Videos on YouTube.
11. Repeat after me: Transformation is not a dirty word. Although that process has not been easy or painless (or perfect, and often far from it), that Zimbabwean cricket is a sport transformed is something to celebrate. This is not to pretend that the sport occupies some sort of post-racial utopia. That’s just not the world we live in. But videos like this one are some sort of barometer of the way cricket in the country has come to embed itself across divides of class, race and gender. And that’s something worth smiling about. I’m not going to go all CLR James on you – for starters I lack the intellectual heft and sharpness of wit to even attempt to show this shitty YouTube video in relation to the man’s work, and especially the greatest cricket book ever written – but I will say this: what happens beyond the boundary is as worthy of attention as what happens within it. Just look.
10. When ants unite, they can carry an elephant. That’s exactly what happened on this chilly Cape Town night back in 2007, when a modest Zimbabwean attack carried away an elephantine Aussie top order. Australia were lethargic, Zimbabwe electric, and Brendan Taylor followed up an exemplary night behind the stumps with an unbeaten 60 to see Zimbabwe home in the last over, with just a little rain to add to the drama. This win is all the more incredible given the time it arrived. Three years on from the era-breaking ‘rebel’ saga, this side didn’t even play Tests anymore, and with their country’s economy in freefall and a violent election around the corner, no-one gave Zimbabwe a chance before this game.
9. Lord’s will soon have an honours board for ODIs, but back in 1999 such a frightful concept would barely have been countenanced. These are the cats who only allowed women in the Long Room in 1997 … But I digress. Here’s a knock that would clearly be deserving. The best part is Warnie’s look of exasperation (‘face like a smacked arse’ is a phrase that springs to mind) as he watches yet another rasping drive curl up the slope to the boundary. My brother was at this match, and it was when Johnson launched into Warne that he, and the other Zimbabweans in the stands, started to believe. There wasn’t quite enough gas in the tank to take Zimbabwe home, and apart from Murray Goodwin, no-one gave Johnno much assistance. Still, this innings, against a team who would be world champions a month later at the same venue, must surely be one of the best in limited overs for Zimbabwe. Johnson finished 132*, and shone throughout this tournament with three man of the match awards, including one for his all-round brilliance against South Africa. Pity he didn’t stick around much longer.
8. Speaking of Neils, here’s another one whose legend arguably outshines even that of the aforementioned Johnson. To my knowledge, Neil has not missed a match at Harare Sports Club in the last 20 years or so, and anyone who’s watched cricket there will know of his boundless enthusiasm for the game. You can’t help but be gee’d up by him. Here’s a clip of Murehwa at his finest. Neil’s story, for those who don’t know it, is here.
7. The prowess of Zimbabwean fielding in the 1980s and 90s has been passed into lore, and the side that went to the 1983 World Cup was probably the best fielding unit at the tournament. Apparently there is a ‘when-we’ feeling in some quarters that the commitment to great fielding has waned in recent years, but on this evidence they’re as sharp ever. The star of this clip is the parry, flick and run-out performed by Musakanda, Waller and Chakabva. There isn’t a single wasted movement or effort between the three of them. Musakanda to Waller to Chakabva, a trio of Chevrons, and fleeter than birds (to borrow from Baseball’s Sad Lexicon).
6. Grant Flower 96 v West Indies in 2000. There comes a time in every young man’s life when he feels the first bittersweet pangs of budding love, and must venture forth boldly to proclaim a ‘favourite player’. For me, Grant Flower was that player, and this match was that time. He had a forward defensive to make you weak at the knees (a sentence which probably says as much about me as it does about the textbook quality of his high-elbowed, ye-shall-not-pass, forward poke). Yet two thirds of the way through his career, defence was no longer enough and Flower was forced to change his game, bringing shots he used to play only in the nets out onto the field as he slipped down from opener to no. 6 in both Tests and one day cricket. Flower averaged 29.29 and 33.15 opening in Tests and ODIs respectively, with these numbers nudging up to 30.11 and 34.75 in the middle order, and even further to 34.36 and 50.28 in 27 internationals at no. 6.This knock, with Flower stage-managing an unlikely chase from no. 6, showcases the reinvention of his game. And that’s a mark of a different type of greatness to the colossi of modern batting such as Pietersen, Ponting et al – a different type because it suggests an ability to react, adapt and change with the times. Cricket was beginning to change, and Flower had the forethought and skill to change with it. Nahmsayin?
5. Memories of Henry Olonga’s career are equal parts wonder and anguish. It was often either ‘miracle at Chester-le-Street’ or nought for lots off not so many with this guy, or at least that’s how the story generally goes. Olonga was actually a better bowler than that. Maybe it’s just that the erratic days stand out over the steady, if unexplosive ones. Here we catch Olonga on one of his best days, when pace and precision are in alignment and he scythes through none other than Ganguly, Dravid and Tendulkar, three batsmen who would go on (and on, and on) to aggregate more than 40,000 ODI runs between them, revolutionizing one-day batting along the way to cement their place as the best top three to have ever drawn breath. But not on this night.
4. If necessity is the mother of invention, what on earth was Douglas Marillier in need of when he invented this shot? Marillier unveiled the shot (which I’ll call ‘the Zimscoop’ from now on) to the world in this game, first freakin’ ball, against Glenn McGrath no less, but it was against India that he really showed its destructive potential. You can almost feel the veins in Zaheer Khan’s temple throb with impotent rage as yet another accurate delivery is scooped to the unlikeliest of boundaries by a gangly, unknown Zimbabwean. This was a shot that Marillier practised at length in the nets, famously losing multiple balls in the gardens next door during club net sessions at Alexandra Sports Club in Harare. That he then took it out and played it against the world’s best fast bowlers in McGrath and Zaheer is testament to genre-bending skill, and perhaps a little craziness too. But it’s not that surprising that a Zimbabwean was playing the paddle-scoop before it was cool. Given the paucity of their resources, Zimbabwe have always been willing to innovate and experiment, being early adopters of the reverse sweep after watching Mushtaq Mohammed play it on a Pakistan International Airways team’s tour of the country in the early 1980s. Dave Houghton played against him and remembers: “Mushtaq Mohammed came and that was the first time I saw it. It was one of those things where you saw it and thought ‘that looks quite handy, I’ll try it’”. Legend has it that Houghton used the shot to bring up his 150, 200 and 250 during his daddy double against Sri Lanka, and he eventually passed the shot on to others like Andy Flower, and the spirit of innovation lever left Zimbabwean batting, from Flower through Whittall, Taibu, Marillier and even current players such as Sean Williams.
3. December 22, 1996: A day that will live in cricketing infamy. Sort of. With England chasing 205 in 37 overs on the final afternoon, Nick Knight and Alec Stewart went into one-day mode, while Heath Streak, following his captain’s orders, kept the ball well outside off, almost always out of the batsman’s reach, skirting as close to the edge of the rule book as he did the pitch. You can hear Ian Botham seething not-so-quietly, off-mic in the commentary box, while coach David Lloyd howled even more loudly in the press. Call it shadenfreude, but Zimbabweans remember this match very fondly. They remember the ODI series that followed (Zimbabwe 3: England 0, murdered ‘em, chicken farming gains worldwide fame) even more so.
2. Stay with me here, I’ve kind of got to go all around the world for this one. I’ve been writing about cricket in some capacity for more than 14 years now (I’m older than I look, but I use a good moisturizer and drink plenty of water, and so should you). I have my father to thank for the fact that I’m interested in the game at all. He called me in to the lounge (and out of the blissful boredom of youth) to watch the end of Zimbabwe’s win over India at the 99 World Cup: “Come and watch, something amazing is happening.” Seven words to change my life. Olonga’s triple-wicket miracle turned me on to this game, and four years later I was finally old enough to be accredited as a journalist for the 2003 World Cup. I didn’t have a newspaper to write for – surprisingly, pitches from angsty, clueless teenagers don’t get much traction in the offices of the world’s leading media houses – but through my old man’s leftie network I was able to score a gig with The Morning Star, a communist tabloid in London. Partly because he wanted to go to all the matches (for free), and partly to act as my guide (and commissar) as I typed my first words as a cricket writer, my father also wangled media accreditation through the same paper, and we went to all of Zimbabwe’s home games together. My very first cricket writing assignment was to relate the small matter of Andy Flower and Henry Olonga’s black armband protest on the back page of a commie rag that had pictures of American tanks rolling into Baghdad on the front. Heady times indeed. A week or two later we hit the road to cover this match in Bulawayo, and when Andy Blignaut started to light up Queens with a daring assault on the invincible Australians we decided leave the press box and watch the denouement down in the stands. I remember Jason Gillespie’s astonishment as Blignaut brazenly swiped four fours in an over. I remember losing sight of his second six in the endless blue of the Matabeleland sky. I remember the sandals my father was wearing, his hat, his gammy toe. The crinkle in his nose as he squinted in the sun. His chuckles at Blignaut’s bolschy antics. His eye for detail: he pointed out that there were Australians cheering Blignaut’s knock, the sort of detail that helped to bring my match report to life. He’s been gone for three years now, and as difficult as it is to admit, memories of lost loved ones fade with time even as we try to keep hold of them. But when I watch this video, I remember.
1. This one has it all. Build-up, emotion, release. Umm … a soundtrack by Coldplay. Okay, that last bit isn’t so cool, but it fits in the circumstances. Positively orgasmic.This wins the internet EVERY DAY and a significant number of the 29,000 views on this video belong to yours truly. I refuse to be ashamed of that. Play this video at my wedding. Play it at my funeral. Play it every day.
Some honourable mentions:
The Aussie, white-man’s-burdensy touch to this video is laid on a little heavy at times, but it gets a pass purely on the strength of a cute-as-a-button Stuart Matsikenyeri, who went on to play 131 internationals for Zimbabwe.
Possibly Heath Streak’s finest day in a red shirt. While he’s got more meat on him than a butcher’s shop in the Free State and looks like he could slug a cricket ball clear out of a stadium, Streak’s pretensions as a batter were in reality loftier still, metaphorically speaking, and it was in the rearguard that he often found his groove. On a venomous SCG track, he top-scores with a patient 45 before returning to wreak havoc with the ball, taking 4 for 8. All round perfection.
There are millionaire, world-famous cricketers who WISH they could drive as well as Vusi Sibanda. This rasping cover drive IS mindsex.
More Sibanda. Who said Zimbabwe are no longer the fielding side they once were? Please shush, sit down. And watch this.
The first time Zimbabwe meets (and beats) England in an international match. They’d retain their dominance over the English for almost a decade after this.
Enjoy these short highlights, and especially the high-pitched scream presumably emitted by one of the grown-ass, burly men on the field when Kallis nicks behind for 0 (4) .
Hate mail, marriage proposals and your own personal favourites can be directed to my Twitter feed, @gomorezvidinha. Next week, I’ll share the videos where things didn’t work out quite so well. An array of hat-tricks, slip-ups, collisions and drops awaits…