Vernon Philander: Jack of one trade, Master of one
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âTune in to the South Africa match - Vernon Philander is bowlingâ is a text Iâve never received from any friend till date, and one I never expected to. But whilst we were all busy adoring and idolizing our alluring and charismatic heroes, Philander inconspicuously scripted greatness - his own way.
Just imagine an endless recursive loop in your daily life where youâre stuck doing the same thing over and over again - like eating the same dish thrice a day throughout the entirety of the year, or listening to the same song everytime you put your earphones on or switching on the television only to find out that your favorite channel has been playing the same movie throughout the day; sounds pretty boring, doesnât it?
Now incorporate that into a sport from a fanâs perspective: How would you feel if the club you support had only one strategy to score goals - say through corner-kicks - or if your favorite Tennis player won points just by playing the backhand slice? Underwhelmed, or rather âboredâ, I assume. The cricketing equivalent of perpetual boredom is Vernon Philander.
Philander is that annoying guy in Karaoke Nights who sings the same song over and over again, week after week. He is the stand-up comedian who tells the same joke everywhere he goes and is the pop artist who uses the same three cords to write every single song. He is the wrestler with the same dire move set with a boring signature move and the commentator who pulls out the same clichéd catchphrase in every single game.
He is the most mundane cricketer one can come across, there are no idiosyncrasies about him. Yet he rocks the song he sings, delivers that joke to perfection, wins every bout with the two moves he has and nails the clichéd catchphrase in every single match. But he is, undeniably, boring
Vernon Philander is so boring that, by doing the same thing over and over and over again, heâs made a mockery of the art called consistency and turned it into something detestable. Every single delivery heâs bowled in Test cricket - from the first one to Shane Watson in Cape Town to the last one against Ravindra Jadeja in Pune - has been one and the same.Â
As a batsman, when you walk out to face Philander, you know what youâre going to get. There are no traps, no âhiding the seamâ or âdouble-bluffsâ; you know what youâre going to get. You look at him and he is never the bowler you donât want to face, he is not intimidating, for he bowls trundlers whilst looking like your next door neighbor who plays grade cricket every Sunday morning. He takes his mark - which is, again, not too far away from the stumps - and jogs towards you with an almost insouciant run-up and lets go off the ball with minimal effort.Â
There comes the first one, back of a length, outside off, in and around fifth stump, hitting the corridor of uncertainty. You let it go. Then come the next five in the same over, which are exactly the same. You negate the sixth one and tell to yourself âHow long can he keep doing the same, eh?â. In no time, you find yourself finding the 34th such delivery, all in the same spell, and finally lose patience and throw your bat at one. Of course, the outside edge is found and youâre now back in the pavilion.Â
But whatâs worse? You now see him doing the same to the next batsman and the next. Thereâs no end to it. Itâs boring. Itâs a recursive loop. But it never ends. Facing Philander is like playing Flappy Bird: Itâs annoying and frustrating to play, itâs never-ending, there are no complexities involved and itâs the same three blocks that youâve got to pass. But one misstep, one lapse of concentration and youâre done. It is boring, and so is Philander.
But in life, and more so in cricket, things that are boring, and not glamorous, are taken for granted and often go unnoticed, donât they? Thankless jobs, be it slip-catching or umpiring or wicket-keeping, are usually the ones that are boring and slip under the radar, but Philander, over the course of his Test career, has somehow, through his persona, managed to turn the art of new-ball bowling into a thankless one.
In exactly a monthâs time, Philander will don the South African colours for one last time. But just like his Test career, the news of his retirement, too, has slipped under the radar, for there are no pouring tributes coming in, nor is there any talk about who will fill in his shoes. His boring, unglamorous and self-effacive nature has meant that he is gliding out of the game inconspicuously, so much so that his greatness has gone unspoken; not been given due recognition.Â
Best Test bowling averages of all time amongst pacers (min 200 wickets) © ESPN Cricinfo
Best Test bowling averages for pacers in the 21st century (min 200 wickets) © ESPN Cricinfo
Best bowling averages for South African bowlers (min 200 wickets) © ESPN CricinfoThe numbers speak for themselves and Vernon Philander is one amongst the best of his generation and certainly one of the best the sport has ever seen. Itâs funny, as you see the âBig Boysâ, the âin your faceâ quicks co-exist with Big Vern in the list. Amongst all the great fast bowlers weâve seen over the years, Philander is like an onion ring amidst a tray of french fries - you donât know it got there and you almost always overlook it, but it still serves the purpose of fulfilling your hunger whilst tasting damn good. His Test career has been reminiscent to that of an overnight rain, for you know it has rained, but are clueless on how and when it happened.
When the curtains come down post the England series, loops will be broken, the roads will be dry and the regime will no longer be monotonous. In this day and age where glamour is paraded and output is undermined, where charisma, panache, and elan are considered to be keystones for public embracement, Philander has proven that validation is inessential and greatness can be achieved no matter how subdued, mundane and humdrum the process is or might seem. Vernon Darryl Philander is a one-trick pony, but unarguably, the greatest and the best one out there in the business.
