Eliminating Umpire's Call in DRS -- A Different Take

The "Umpire's Call" decision by the Decision Review System (DRS) in cricket has proven to be very unpopular with players and fans alike.  Generally speaking, this is because of their limited understanding of how the DRS technology works, and under what circumstances it falls back to the on-field umpire's call.  But it's also understandable that cricketers are frustrated that we seem to trust technology for most things these days, except this one.

First of all, this is only applicable to LBW decisions -- that's because in an LBW appeal, the ball has hit the batter somewhere on their body, and changed direction thereafter.  The umpire's (and DRS') job is to estimate whether the ball would have hit the stumps if the batter had not intercepted it.  However a similar consideration also applies when DRS decides whether the ball pitched in line with the stumps, whether the point of impact was outside the line of the stumps, etc.

The Hawkeye (and similar competing) technology captures several video frames using special cameras, 'finds' the ball in these frames, and plots the ball's actual trajectory up to the point where it hits the batter.  Usually, a human operator marks the final point of impact with the batter's body using the available video frames.  Based on this actual trajectory, Hawkeye extrapolates, i.e. predicts the path the ball would have taken if it had not hit the batter.  This is a mathematical calculation, and it cannot be certain or exact, because the video capturing the action is not continuous, but chopped into frames.  So, any such projection has fuzziness, i.e. a range of possible trajectories, not the single path that we are shown on TV.  

This possibility of error is why ICC decided to fall back to the on-field umpire's call, when the error range makes it uncertain whether the ball would have hit the stumps.  Within the possible range of projected outcomes, some times the ball would have hit the stumps, and at other times it would have missed -- we just don't know for sure, based on the available technology.  The fuzziness of the possible projections is a function of the Hawkeye technology.  As the technology has improved, cameras have gotten sharper, etc. the error bars have narrowed over time, i.e. the fuzziness has reduced.

Now, note that the umpire's decision is also based on an estimate. The umpire is essentially doing the same thing as Hawkeye, just by 'replaying' the delivery in their mind's eye and asking a standard set of questions (did the ball hit the pad before bat if at all, did it pitch in line, hit in line, shot attempted or not, and finally, crucially, would it have hit the stumps if the batter hadn't intercepted it).  Of course umpires are often very experienced and skilled at this.  They've done it thousands of times before, presumably.  Nevertheless, their call (out or not-out) is also prone to a certain amount of error.  At lower levels of cricket, there is a lot of variation in umpires' skills; some may be good, others not-so-good, yet others terrible at making this decision, or just having a bad day.  Even at the international level, all umpires are not equally skilled, or equally experienced, or could have been distracted at just the wrong time.  Thus we have to note that the umpire's call also has an error range!

For line decisions (run outs, stumpings, no balls), we seem to be happy to leave the decision to technology.  There we assume that the technology is good enough -- nay, better than the on-field umpires!  That's even though the umpire can clearly see the crease to decide out or not-out.  Surely in the case of LBWs, if anything, there should be more uncertainty in the umpire's mind?  In other words, the error bars on the umpire's decision are likely to be wider than the error bars of Hawkeye's projection, given the improvements in technology since DRS was introduced.

Once you reach this conclusion, it becomes clear that umpire's call is unnecessary in LBW decisions as well.  Yes, the technology can make a mistake, but so can umpires (and in fact, umpires are more likely to get it wrong).  Hawkeye can do its thing and project the path of the ball after impact.  Its error bars are calculated mathematically and could perhaps be verified experimentally or with simulations in labs.  Based on the error range, Hawkeye can make one of three decisions:

1. The ball would have hit the stumps in all possible projections (therefore, the decision is OUT), or
2. It would have missed the stumps in all possible projections (decision NOT OUT), or
3. It would have missed the stumps in some of the projections.   

In this third case, today's decision is UMPIRE'S CALL, but it really should be NOT OUT, because:

• the technology cannot be sure that the ball would have hit the stumps
• the error bars of technology are better (thinner) than those of a typical umpire
• the benefit of the doubt traditionally goes to the batter in such decisions, not to the umpire!

This would mean eliminating umpire's call altogether!  The same approach could be taken with deciding whether the ball pitched in line, and whether the point of impact was in line -- both of these are line decisions (even if there isn't a physical line/mat drawn on the pitch), and technology is already considered good enough to make that decision.

Eliminating umpire's call would have one further benefit on the side.  It would reduce the pressure on umpires to get the decision right, just as DRS has for line decisions.  They would know that their call becomes less important in edge cases, and DRS would serve its original purpose of only reversing 'howlers'.  It could improve the standard of umpiring as a result (especially at lower, first-class level wherever DRS is made available).  And it could possibly reduce the skew towards LBW decisions, especially against spin bowling, that has crept in because of DRS and the loss of the benefit of doubt going uniformly to the batter.  We have seen modern Test batters struggling against spin because their game has had to adapt to the DRS and made it harder to survive when defending.

One final point -- much of the controversy arises from how the DRS projection is shown on TV.  Despite the fact that the projection has a range of possibilities, the 'replay' on TV shows the ball either hitting (or clipping) the stump, accompanied by a cute little animation of the bails falling off, or it shows the ball missing the stumps.  For case 3 above, when the current decision is UMPIRE'S CALL, all that we need to do is show the ball missing the stumps (i.e. show one of the possible projections where the ball would have missed), and flash a NOT OUT decision instead!  So, case 2 and 3 end up the same, with the ball shown clearly missing the stumps, and the decision being NOT OUT.  This is not 'cheating', because it really is showing one of the possible projections where the ball misses the stumps!

Thoughts?  Any problems that this proposal could create?  Comments welcome.

Penguins Stopped Play!

How's that for a clickbaity title for a blog post? :-)  Actually, it's the title of a wonderful book I discovered and read recently.  It's written by Harry Thompson, and the subtitle hints at what it's all about --- "eleven village cricketers take on the world".

Thompson was a writer and radio/TV producer in Britain, but more to the point, he was the 'founder' and captain of a village cricket team called the Captain Scott XI.  The team was named ironically, after Captain Robert Scott who made it to the South Pole in 1912, only to discover that he'd been beaten to it by Roald Amundsen by a mere four weeks!  So Scott came second, but tried his best, and that inspired these village cricketers of no particular ability, to name themselves the Captain Scott Invitational XI -- anyone could 'invite' themselves to play, as long as they tried hard!

Starting small at Oxford University, taking on local teams on the weekends, etc. the Captain Scott XI then started touring as well.  They made cricketing trips to India, South Africa and Malaysia for example, playing mostly against club sides, while also taking in the local tourist attractions.  The book sketches the village cricketers' characters and their variegated cricketing settings in lovely prose, peppered with characteristic British humour.  Sometimes it's easy to forget that these aren't fictional characters, but real people he's talking about!

Then one day, Harry Thompson got it into his head to plan a "world tour", where the Capt. Scott XI would play at least one game of cricket on each of the continents (except Antarctica).  The rest of the book is basically a hilarious travelogue covering this three-week tour and the preparations and planning that went into it.  The team played in Barbados (technically, sort of covering North America), then Buenos Aires (Argentina, South America), Sydney (Australia), Singapore (Asia), Cape Town (Africa) and then back in London ((Europe).  Many of the matches resulted in abject defeat for the Capt. Scott XI, but that was never in doubt to start with!  The sporting spirit of the team was amazing, as you can imagine.  The team also visited many interesting places during their tour, drank like fishes, even tried some dope, all of which incidents are described beautifully by Thompson.  The travails of air travel (covering nearly 40,000 miles) -- the incompetence of airline staff, missing tickets, problems with Customs, visas, etc. are inevitable and frequent, but the way Thompson narrates them make you laugh out loud much of the time.

What about the title of the book though?  It wasn't part of the "world tour", but separately Thompson did end up going to Antarctica and arranged for a game of cricket there, along with other Brits, Aussies and New Zealanders!  And during that game, apparently a large flock of penguins did indeed invade the pitch (such as it was), curious to know what these strange visitors were doing.  The game had to be abandoned, probably the only time in history that "Penguins Stopped Play"!

Book review: "Cricket Crusader", by Gary Sobers

For some reason, I really enjoy reading cricketers' autobiographies.  Biographies are good too, but when it's in the cricketer's own voice, it's special.  I have previously written a blog post about some biographies and autobiographies, and also reviewed several of them.

Just finished reading an autobiography of one of the very greatest cricketers of all time -- "Cricket Crusader", by Gary Sobers -- and it was a fun, educational read.  Sobers wrote this book around 1965 while he was still playing, at the peak of his career.  He played Tests till 1974, so the book doesn't cover his complete Test career of course.  But it gives great glimpses into his early years, the development of his cricket, his attitude towards the game, etc.

Sobers writes in an interesting, unusual style, mostly in first-person present tense.  And the language is lyrical, very evocative of the Caribbean.  It also appears quaint and old-fashioned at times!  This book is not a manual on how to play cricket, Sobers-style.  That's because he had already written another book in that genre -- "Cricket, Advance!".  This is a narrative, story-telling type of book.  Sobers doesn't fill it up with scores and statistics and dry recounting of events as they happened on cricketing fields.  In fact he consciously chooses not to supply exact scores and bowling analyses, saying that there are other sources for that kind of data.  He focuses instead on the thinking that goes into the game, his own as well as that of his peers.

The book is organized pretty much chronologically, starting with his days as a small kid playing "Lilliput cricket" in Barbados.  He describes how they play on any bare patch of ground, with knitted balls rolled in tar, on a 10 yard pitch, against underarm bowling.  The batsman actually bats on one knee, with one foot firmly anchored (else he could be out stumped)!  So he ends up playing lots of horizontal-bat shots, generating power using the wrists, arms and shoulders.  It's interesting to see how this influences their batting techniques when they graduate to 'proper ' cricket.  Sobers makes the point that, because it's a soft ball, you learn to play the ball from an early age without the fear of being hit.  Later in the book, he describes getting hit by a hard cricket ball for the first time, and how it changes him from a boy to a man.

The book goes over his graduation from local cricket in Barbados to the Test team, then going on various tours etc.  There is of course plenty of space devoted to his memorable moments in Tests, such as the record-breaking 365*, the tied Test in Australia, etc.  But equally, he tells stories from his days as a professional cricketer in England and Australia.  He talks about playing in the Sheffield Shield for South Australia, how they sponsored his knee operation, etc.  He is clearly deeply influenced by his time playing in the English cricket leagues (for clubs like Radcliffe and Norton).  He gives voice to the professional vs. amateur debate of that time, talking about the time when he and Wes Hall were debating whether to play for the West Indies (for a pittance), or play professional cricket in England or Australia.

Sobers uses the term 'world cricketer' a lot, to mean someone who has reached the 'world class' standard.  How he aspired to be one, how he learnt from his seniors in the West Indies team, etc.  How he doesn't "take his cricket to bed" at night...  He talks a lot about his captain Frank Worrell, the art of captaincy and man management, etc. There is an entire chapter devoted to his close friend and fellow Test star Collie Smith, the car accident that cost Smith his life (Sobers was the one driving!), and how the incident changed him.  He lovingly describes the pleasures (and the travails) of touring, especially in England with the unpredictable weather.  Some of it really seems quaint -- stories of daily exercise routines to keep fit, while on board a ship to Australia for example!

The book is interspersed with several nice photographs, not just from Test match action but also from the English leagues, tour games, etc. -- and a collection of statistics at the end which again features scores from league cricket.  Gives you a good historical perspective, in these days of jet-setting cricketers and IPL and Big Bash and...

Sobers wrote another autobiography much later in life... Now I can't wait to get my hands on that one!

Two great batsmen

Here are the career records of two great batsmen -- arguably, among the all-time greats.  These records compare favourably with the likes of Gordon Greenidge, Clive Lloyd, even Greg Chappell and Wally Hammond.

Player 1:

M  Inn   NO   Runs   HS   Avg   100   50
95  152   15    7877   217  57.49   29   31

Player 2:

M  Inn   NO   Runs   HS   Avg   100   50
90  153   17    7411  248*  54.49   22   33


So who are these two greats?  You won't find these numbers in the record books, because...


Player 1 is Sachin Tendulkar (from début to May 2002*)
Player 2 is Sachin Tendulkar (May 2002* through December 2011)

* Note that the May 2002 cutoff is an arbitrary choice, to divide Sachin's career into approximately equal halves (by innings played).

Right up to the 1980s, until Gavaskar scaled the 10,000 run peak, an all-time great batsman would typically have 6000 to 8000 runs, an average in the 50s, and about 20 centuries.  Remember that Gary Sobers held the Test runs record (8032) for many years, Boycott went past and finished on 8114, and then Gavaskar took over.

By that measure, Sachin Tendulkar has had not one, but two great careers in cricket!  These days, most of his records that the media and fans focus on, are those related to his longevity -- 50 Test tons, 100 international tons, 15,000 Test runs, most Test 50s, etc.  And his longevity (and continued productivity) is truly amazing.  But what gets lost is that he would've been an all-time great batsman even if he had chosen to retire half-way through!

While this has been, so far, a purely statistical argument, you could set aside the weight of numbers and still make the case.  In his early years, Sachin was a significantly more attacking, aggressive batsman.  If you compared highlight reels of Player 1 and Player 2, you'd see that Player 1 essayed more of the 'raw' strokes -- cuts, pulls, hooks, and lofted drives, often dancing down the pitch to spinners.  We aren't even talking ODIs here.  He also had the most elegant drives of course -- cover drives and straight drives in particular.  And Player 1 was up against a terrific batch of fast bowlers -- Wasim Akram, Allan Donald, Curtly Ambrose, Waqar Younis, Craig McDermott, etc.  He still managed to score big, score rapidly, and score attractively.  What made it all the more remarkable was that he was so young (Player 1 started at 16, and 'retired' at the age of 29!).  But even if you ignore the romance associated with watching a  young kid take on the giants of the game -- both literally and figuratively -- one must concede that he had an all-time great kind of career.

And then came Player 2.  Clearly, Sachin adapted his game over the course of a couple of seasons in the early 2000s.  For whatever reasons (a more injury-prone body? a more cluttered mind? the match-fixing scars?), he felt that his batting approach needed to change.  The aggression was significantly toned down.  The mix of strokes changed -- fewer pulls and hooks and lofted drives, more glances and deflections to leg, newer delicate strokes like the paddle sweep, the upper cut, the punched drives, etc.  The beginning of the innings was more tentative and defensive.  Ironically, all this happened at a time when the Indian batting was at its strongest ever.  Sachin had great support in the form of Dravid, Laxman and Ganguly in the middle order, Sehwag at the top often providing great starts, a more resilient tail, etc.  Nevertheless, his methods proved successful -- not as successful as Player 1 to be sure, but then Player 2 was a 30+ year old suffering a spate of injuries through his career, playing a surfeit of cricket with more ODIs and T20s than Player 1 had to.  If Player 2 could have debuted at a more normal age (say, 22), one can imagine that the record would be even better.  His more cautious approach also resulted in bigger 100s -- more double-tons for example -- as well as more success for his team.  Clearly the India team with Player 2 was far more successful than that of Player 1.  So you can't really argue with his decision to change his batting style, after playing more than a decade at the Test level.

I would argue that Player 2 is also in the all-time great category, not merely a great batsman.  Those numbers were achieved over a large span of time as well as Tests.  They have been achieved against some great bowling too -- McGrath, Lee, Warne, Murali, Steyn, Pollock, Akhtar, etc.  They have included innings in tough conditions (e.g., that battle with Steyn and Morkel in South Africa), and in tough chases (e.g., the 100 vs. England in Chennai).  And while his batting may have become less aggressive, it has hardly become any less attractive to watch -- witness his recent innings in the first Test at Melbourne just this week.  He still pulls in the crowds; the crowds still leave or turn off their TVs when he gets out (well, in India at least).

So there you go, two great batsmen rolled into one!