Alan Ball's Boots

It's strange the conversations that take place on the boundary as the batsmen await their innings. This week's oddity focused on a football boot, or more precisely on a particular type of football boot.

The recently deceased England football hero Alan Ball once pioneered a new type of boot. (I've searched in vain for a picture of the said boot type so a text description will have to do). Imagine the sole of a football boot. Normally, at the front of the boot are four or more chunky studs to aid grip on the turf. In the 1970s, these four studs were experimentally mounted on a moveable turntable inlaid into the sole. The theory was that if players turned sharply on the field, the boot would swivel naturally with them and consequently the number of twisted ankle injuries would be reduced.

So how on earth did this conversation start? Well, I had a small part to play. As I was batting (compiling a majestic four runs), my team mate Stewart Gill noticed that one shot I played involved lifting my left heel off the floor, then swivelling one-legged nearly 360 degrees on the ball of the same foot. Needless to say I rarely made contact with the cricket ball. Regular readers will recall that my batting ability is more Saddam Hussein than Nasser Hussain. However, the shot produced much hilarity amongst my team mates on the boundary, especially the aforementioned Mr. Gill.

I should also mention at this point that Stewart was playing his first match for the club following a year long absence away in Australia. I think we all expected him to settle in quietly. How wrong we were. He had already mentioned that he'd won a bowling award while playing in Oz, and that he'd batted before me in this match, knocking a valuable 33 runs.

Later, as we fielded, Stewart continued to make merry at my expense with repeated reminders to the whole field of my 'Alan Ball's Boots' shot.

Around halfway through the opposition innings, one of the batsmen hit a pull shot through midwicket, straight towards Stewart. It was like slow motion. The ball raced towards him about two feet to his right. He turned his head to watch its approach. It got closer. His expression took on a determined look. The ball was now a couple of yards in front him. We waited for him to make a move. Nothing. His feet were glued to the grass. The ball was now level with his right hand. It was at this point he collapsed at the knees. It was as if a nearby sniper had shot him in the calf. If you've ever seen film footage of tall blocks of flats being razed to the ground with explosives, you probably get the picture. The ball went for four runs but the pill was sweetened a little by the uncontrollable laughter being guffawed across the ground.

"My feet got stuck in the turf!" exclaimed a kneeling and embarassed Mr. Gill.

I probably don't need to tell you the type of footwear I recommended he should use in future.