How a batsman can navigate a form slump

As I paused to view my shattered off-stump after game 3 of my charity cricket adventure last summer I implemented a 7-step plan to come out of the batting slump (NB: Good cricketers please disregard the below advice).

It must be the equipment’s fault

Gee, that chin strap on my helmet was annoying me. I’m pretty sure it was the reason I tried to take one from outside off-stump and clip it thorough midwicket like Carl Hooper in game 1 in Pomborneit.  I was sure if I removed it then I would start seeing them like watermelons again.

Better yet, I then went down to the garage and grabbed the old Albion C&D lid that had been gathering dust since 1993 and tried it on for size again, ignoring the fact that while the old metal grill still provides excellent visibility, it’s rusted and likely to shatter in 468 pieces across my face if its hit by even a tennis ball. There is still the gap between grill and peak that would fit 3 balls to come in and break my cheekbone – like 98% of batsman in the 1990s I went for visibility over safety.  

That bat of mine was just not getting the job done. A new grip would surely correct my tendency to spoon drives to mid-on. If 7 grips worked for Clive Lloyd then it should be good enough for me. I ended up going with 3 and my hands could barely hold onto it. I even got the sandpaper out and shaved 0.003 ounces off the edges to hopefully prevent me knicking off from 14-year-old kids covered in acne.  

That 7/4 spike configuration in my boots must have be the reason I was getting my front foot planted 2 foot from the pitch of the ball. I dusted off the year 10 physics textbook to work out the perfect pattern to ensure I could dance down the wicket like Mark Waugh.

Perhaps it was my slippery hands knocking a pending century in the bud just as I passed double figures? I tend to sweat more than Darryl Cullinan facing Warney, so a new pair of inners would hopefully do the trick. Unfortunately, I didn’t have the budget or committed enough teammates to be able to change gloves every 8 balls like Steve Smith does these days (what is going on there?).

After working through the above renovations to my existing kit, 4 hours of pursuing the Kingsgrove Cricket Catalogue promised new hope. That $1,000 Kookaburra Kahuna should get me averaging above 14! After checking my marital contract I resolved that such extravagant unauthorised purchases with the credit card would ensure Mrs D enforced a 3 week isolation on the couch for me.

 

Model my technique on the greats

Nothing can’t be fixed after 94 seconds studying a former great’s technique on youtube and trying to implement it immediately (disregarding the 40 years of muscle memory you have already established). In an attempt to counter feeling slow on the ball I decided to use Graham Gooch’s exaggerated backlift. I didn’t need to knock up a 333 but geez I would take a tidy 33 at this stage – it felt great as the bowler approached, yet lost its luster as I was unable to get my bat down in time to a 107km yorker in game 6 in Tassie.

There are so many things to consider and change once an overactive mind kicks into gear. In one game I played 98% of balls off the backfoot like Steve Waugh. In another I just planted my front foot 4 foot down the wicket and tried to intimidate like Matthew Hayden – seriously, do 42 year-old bald blokes with average rigs intimidate anybody? I tried to stand tall and elegant like Greg Chappell, even though I have the balancing skills of an elephant on a tightrope. I even decided to work backwards and spent time watching old footage of Bruce Reid and just tried to do the total opposite to what he was doing.

Mix up my pre-match routine

Sedate Friday evening pre-matches were not getting the job done. On reflection the three greatest career knocks I ever made were on the back of less than 3 hours sleep and significant over hydration. I was able to reach new heights against quality opposition, perhaps on the back of being sufficiently still relaxed and potentially over 0.05 and unaware of the consequences of failure. That being said this is a high-risk strategy that has come undone many times and made me ponder the meaning of life as the 40 degree sun belts down on my back and I pay for my sins whilst being asked to bowl 24 overs straight of numbing off-spin to give the quicks a rest.

For this adventure, I was travelling interstate most pre-matches, so I was unable to have a night out on the tiles, however, I did take to a quiet Friday night Hotel nightcap or three to calm the pre-match jitters. 

A stint in the lower grade nets

Back in my prime (If I arguably had one), from time to time, if I was struggling I would take a leave of absence from the first-grade net on a Thursday evening and strut into the thirds net with a level of arrogance not seen since Viv Richards graced our fields. The theory being that if I can dine out on some military medium pacers then my confidence and timing will return. Again, this is a risky strategy and can lead to an even further spiral and much ridicule if you get cleaned up by the 54 year old presidents left arm seamers.

I wasn’t training with a club during my adventure so the closest I could come to this approach was ruthlessly dispatching my 6 year old’s medium pace in the backyard – with the ferocity of my attack I was worried that a nearby neighbour may have called child services at one point.

I am not proud to admit but I did drag Mrs D to an indoor centre to feed 94KM half volley’s into the bowling machine one morning. Gee, I hit them well, but the damage to my credibility was irreversible.   

Time to go new age

If meditating was good enough for Justin Langer to play 100 tests and average close to 50 then I decided I needed to find some spiritual healing. Google really came in handy here as I undertook 3 guided online sessions (less than 10 minutes duration and because I’m too much of a tight-arse to pay for anything). My calm and serene state worked perfectly right until the time I marked centre in game 7 and the little man on my shoulder kicked in and reminded me that essentially if it wasn’t short or a half volley I would be in trouble.

Remind myself that I used to be able to bat   

Some astute judges may argue but there was a window back in the day where I could bat. Much like Hayley’s comet I could flash ever so brightly and sightings were rare yet I have ticked some boxes in batting competency. Never consistent but good enough on occasions.

I knew I was at the peak of my downward spiral when I set out one evening into the garage to locate the trophy to commemorate my one and only century back in the day and any other associated memorabilia or press clippings (usually post 50 scores) my parents hadn’t thrown out that spoke of a batsman with potential (before I became a competent dart throwing offie) – mostly, this was to convince the kids that dad was at least a has-been rather than a never was.    

Acceptance

Eventually after 5 weeks of going through the above steps (each taking a week and bringing a new false hope) I came to the conclusion that I was a 42-year-old who had not played for 12 years and lacked the time, discipline or commitment to get to training and address the issues at hand with some elbow grease and hard work. There was to be no magic elixir, rather the stripping back of principles to just watch the ball, trust my technique (even if it was faulty) and accept the reality that I would fail more than I would succeed.  

In the end I contributed 75 runs across 7 hits with an average of 10.5 which was a fair reflection on where I sat. I had to accept I was no longer a first grader. I still wake up in a cold sweat some nights and reflect on how I threw my wicket away in game 5 in Brisbane when I was on 25, seeing the ball well and doing it easy. In my defence an appalling lack of fitness and 97% humidity combined to see me lose my focus and not take the opportunity at hand.

After getting to 20 with ease in game 7 in Macleod I foolishly let myself get distracted by an altercation with an opponent and then with red mist in my eyes tried to hit a ball so hard that even Chris Lynn may have suggested taking a more measured approach - Another opportunity wasted and regret to add to the list.

A batting form slump gets us all from time to time. If you lack the stomach for hard work give my 7 step strategy towards mediocrity a go and let me know how you get on.

I’ve now written a book about my epic adventure last season playing cricket for 11 clubs across Australia, while raising funds for mental health. You can grab a copy for only $20, with all profits supporting the Gotcha4Life Mental Health Foundation.

To purchase a copy of the book please click