The Danger Of What If?

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Asad Rauf - one, two, three, four, five...

By Dave Tickner

After Sri Lanka beat England in what was undoubtedly the best game of this World Cup so far, one incident seems to have escaped widespread attention.

Given the victory margin of two runs, it's surely fair to say that every single delivery in the game was vital.

So it's surely equally fair to say the fact England had only 299 deliveries rather than the more traditional 300 afforded to Sri Lanka played a potentially crucial part.

Asad Rauf was the guilty umpire, calling a five-ball over from Sanath Jayasuriya midway through England's run chase. In his defence the over was a lengthy one as it included another controversial incident - the correct albeit ridiculous run-out of Ian Bell. It was presumably that delivery he counted twice.

But even in village cricket, where the traditional requirements of the lbw law (did it him in line? Was it perhaps a touch high? Maybe missing leg?) are replaced by more personal criteria (isn't it tea-time soon? How slowly is this batsman scoring? Didn't he give me out lbw last week?), the ability to count to six is the one part of the umpire's job considered sacred.

Whenever a player complains he "doesn't know how to umpire", the response from the wise old sage of the team will always be the same: "As long as you can count to six, son, you'll be fine", before possibly offering the additional advice that the only two words the rookie umpire needs to remember are "not" and "out" as he hands over a foul-smelling white coat with two bails and six pebbles in the pockets.

But I think Asad's addition aberration just makes an already-fantastic match even better. It adds an extra layer to an already densely-plotted drama.

One of the things that makes a close game of cricket so special is the utterly pointless but immensely satisfying/depressing "what if?" discussions you can have as you look back on it; the importance of every single seemingly innocuous moment is magnified dramatically in the context of a narrow defeat or victory.

For instance, I remember Upul Tharanga, struggling desperately for form and coming under increasing pressure, playing out four dot balls at the start of an over before tamely driving straight to Bell at cover. Bell inexplicably missed the ball, Tharanga got a single and away from the strike, and Jayawardene played a gorgeous late cut to third-man from the final ball of the over for two runs. What if, you think to yourself, Bell stops that ball and Tharanga plays out a maiden? Three runs fewer for Sri Lanka...

Of course, this leads to madness, as you descend from the obvious "What if Asad Rauf could count to bloody six?" or "What if Ravi Bopara had got an edge on that final ball?" to "What if Dilhara Fernando had bowled the original final delivery when he aborted at the very split-second he was set to bowl?" or "What if Andrew Flintoff could pick a slower ball?"

Before long you've put the entire result down to that one delivery early in Kevin Pietersen's innings when he swatted the ball through cover and lazily sauntered two when there was an easy three, and start babbling on about chaos theory and butterflies flapping their wings on the other side of the world causing Billy Bowden to detect a non-existent edge off Michael Vaughan's bat, before being sedated and helped from the room by burly men in white suits while you foam quietly at the mouth.

Don't even get me started on the 2005 Edgbaston Ashes Test.