Cricket: A season full of drama and intrigue

England may have lost the Ashes series to Australia, but two Test victories, a thrilling finish to the County Championship and plenty to talk about off the field made it a cricket season to remember. Derek Pringle looks back at the best and worst of 1997.

Even before a ball had been bowled, the 1997 season managed to begin with a provocative "Howzat". In its best stentorian tone, the Wisden Almanack put cricket's fading appeal down to the fact that it was "elitist, exclusionist and dull." In fact, the summer ended anything but, as emotions were kept on tenterhooks right up until the last Saturday, when Glamorgan pipped Kent to the Britannic Assurance County Championship.

In any case, with the Australians touring, such claims were always likely to be put under pressure and only a wet June and July dampened the cricket- lover's enthusiasm. Add to that England's storming wins that book-ended the Ashes series; Michael Atherton's dingdong battle with himself over the England captaincy; as well as the internecine bickering at Derbyshire and Lancashire, and the season actually had more drama and intrigue than many of the better soaps.

For some, the only damp squib, apart from once again being trounced by the Aussies (a fair and expected result), would have been the intransigence shown by the majority of county clubs in the face of change, as envisioned by the England and Wales Cricket Board's blueprint "Raising the Standard."

A two divisional Championship may sound very neat, but it would be a change not for the better of cricket, but for the sake of television. How could it be the former when a club's Test players would be available for less than half the matches and then forced to play against their better judgement in the other half?

It is one thing to run first-class cricket as a business, but quite another to shape and distort a 250-year old game in order to pander to those with big bank accounts. "I'll be anything you want me to be, so long as you pay the money," smacks of prostitution, not perfection. Something the Aussies should remember with their latest gimmicky twelve-a-side nonsense.

Back out in the middle, Glamorgan certainly deserved their success. Left virtually undisturbed by Test calls, they had probably the best balanced attack - an attack made even more lethal by Waqar Younis, one of the most destructive fast bowlers in the world.

Ever since pitches were covered, it has been bowlers who have generally won four and five-day matches. Glamorgan, however, with a nice batting mix of the orthodox and the furious, were twice blessed, and able to score their runs fast enough to ensure that this tenet remained a cricketing fact.

Australia work in much the same way, their ultra-positive outlook helping to contribute to a series that saw just one drawn Test in six. What a great example Steve Waugh, Matthew Elliott, Glenn McGrath and Shane Warne set as England's nemesis.

McGrath, in particular, on pitches he would rarely have encountered, easily outbowled his English counterparts. His haul of 36 wickets simply showed all aspiring seam bowlers, short of express pace, what can be achieved with dedication and discipline.

As ever, rumours of Warne's demise proved unfounded and he was a handful on all but the slowest surfaces. He has been cleared by the Australian Cricket Board to play in England next year, when either Sussex or Nottinghamshire, no doubt via a generous sponsor, will have to pay handsomely for his services.

Overseas players, despite becoming increasingly expensive to run, remain popular. Waqar (whose salary cost Glamorgan around pounds 100,000), Stuart Law at Essex, Paul Strang with runners-up Kent and Darren Lehmann with Yorkshire all served their counties well.

Having skinned the Aussies in the Texaco matches, and in the first Test at Edgbaston, England's expectations were not unnaturally heightened. Indeed, after the near miracle of The Oval, 3-2 may look as if the gap may have narrowed. Unfortunately it probably has not and, when it came to producing the goods in the pressure sessions, England, returning to character, were both meek and erratic.

Australia on the other hand, once they had woken up, played with Cyclopian purpose. With one bold decision against the consensus - when he decided to bat first on a damp greentop at Old Trafford - Mark Taylor, Australia's much-criticised captain, gave his side the wherewithal to turn the series around.

Whether reckless gamble or leader's intuition, it was a brave choice by a brave man, and one that undoubtedly helped persuade Atherton - a nib length away from writing his resignation statement - to continue as England's leader in the West Indies.

It was this age-old battle between heart and head that eventually brought forward the last hurrah of Graham Gooch. Essex, who managed to win the NatWest final against Warwickshire - their first trophy without the maestro - do not know how lucky they have been. For the past 20 years, Gooch's dedication, let alone his class as a batsman, have been legendary, an attitude he has lately transferred to his new role as an England selector.

However, such unquestioning devotion to duty is rare. If it was not, then clubs like Derbyshire and Surrey would be achieving far more on the field. Having provided the country with the smouldering Hollioake brothers, one of whom, Ben, then went on to win the Benson and Hedges Cup final virtually single-handedly, Surrey's season disintegrated into an appalling finale of sloppiness.

It is this apparent lack of pride and general apathy towards performance towards the end of the season that is the cornerstone of those who want two divisions. In keeping with other counties which own Test grounds, Surrey share that view. Perhaps their team were unwittingly backing up their committee's point. If so, maybe one could understand why the ECB sought Surrey's assurances about their willingness to try in last week's Championship decider with Kent.

For those who prefer contrariness to conspiracy, though, 1997 was your year. In a season which began by threatening revolution, the beer, as John Major once put it, is still warm.