MCG image hints at death of beloved 50-over cricket tradition

A haunting image of the Melbourne Cricket Ground on Friday has proved that a long-beloved cricket tradition is nearing its end.

If Travis Head snicks off in the forest and nobody is there to hear it, does it make a sound?

And even if it does, is it heard by anyone bar a handful of members and Snicko?

These are the questions reverberating around the nation’s empty stadia after another Aussie ODI summer started in anonymity on Friday before a quarter-filled, half-closed MCG.

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While a crowd of just over 16,000 for a clash with the West Indies was no shame by modern standards, seeing an international one-dayer staged in a venue with the entire upper deck closed would’ve had Kerry Packer pelting his kebab against the wall of heaven’s high rollers lounge.

And with the game also missing from free-to-air broadcasters and barely marketed, it was another example of ODI cricket’s modern life as nothing more than a pesky obligation.

The game was underway. Photo by Martin KEEP / AFP

With the format on a march to an osteoporotic death, fans are starting to ask: What happened to our beloved game?

Where is cricket’s supposed deference to tradition?

And has somebody thought of the children, or even just a cerebral run chase with a required rate of 4.52?

Everyone agrees that mistreating ODI cricket is unconstitutional — especially those aged 25-52 with crippling nostalgia — but seemingly nobody wants to do anything about it.

Once the hottest ticket in town, ODI’s are now cricket’s version of the new Simpsons or the third-place playoff at the World Cup — content for content’s sake.

A one-time cash cow, 50-over cricket is now so innocuous the public seeks it out with as much apathy as Outlook performing a name search.

Nevertheless, as the first chance to witness our national side in action since becoming world champions, this series against the Windies had the rare potential to be somewhat appealing.

With a modicum of polish, it could’ve been sold as a homecoming tour that paraded our World Cup triumph by beating up on a team that wasn’t good enough to qualify.

Plenty of seat available behind the bowler. Photo by Martin KEEP / AFP

But alas, it has been lazily promoted by administrators and treated like a lab experiment by selectors, effectively producing an underground rest-fest so heavy on rec leave even coach Andrew McDonald has been given a spell.

While acknowledging the need for top-line players to be given time away from the game, it’s undeniable the national side loses appeal when it’s a bastardised crossbreed of household names and demo’s.

And with 50-over cricket’s chances to capture the imagination becoming more limited with every new franchise league, it desperately needs its stars on-deck to make every post a winner.

But in the modern day, asking cricketers to play cricket is often beyond the reasonable.

As such, it means outside of an India series played in the shadow of the BCCI’s legal team, home ODI’s are now a box-ticking exercise saved for beefing-up batting averages and testing rookies in the dark.

Will it ever change? Likely not.

The Bible was 100 per cent accurate when it warned “The road to hell is paved with meaningless ODI’s”, mainly because the road it referred to was the Future Tours program.

To be fair, this had more tension than the actual match. Photo by Martin KEEP / AFP

The ICC’s well-intentioned two-year schedule aims to appease all stakeholders – aka India – by shoehorning as many international matches as possible in to the narrow windows left by the franchise leagues, resulting in series like this that are as hastened and weightless as the trophies they’re fought for.

And with no abatement of the game’s love of T20 and cash seemingly forthcoming, administrators will continue to see ODI cricket as one big Mexican wave.

Unless the ICC stages two World Cups a year – now exclusive to Amazon – these bilateral series will continue to be a baneful task of mass disengagement and floods of debuts so torrential, even you and I will probably earn a call-up.

Dane Eldridge is a warped cynic yearning for the glory days of rugby league, a time when the sponges were magic and the Mondays were mad.

He’s never strapped on a boot in his life, and as such, should be taken with a grain of salt.

Originally published as MCG image hints at death of beloved 50-over cricket tradition