CHRIS HEWETT
THINKING ALLOWED

CLOSE your eyes and imagine batting on a fiery Caribbean track in the 1980s, when West Indian fast bowlers ruled the world. Disappointingly but predictably, you’re following on. Worse still, the quicks who scared the hell out of you in the first innings – Roberts, Holding, Croft, Garner – are sipping restful rum punches on the pavilion balcony, having given way to a quartet of cutthroat “finishers”: Marshall, Patterson, Clarke, Daniel.
It would look like cricket, it would sound like cricket – particularly with ...