The New Law of the Land
Another World Cup gone, another round of disappointments and yet another new man at the helm to get us dreaming all over again. Stuart Law is the newest Tiger in the team, and with sixteen million success-starved eyes on him, things won't be easy.
The 42-year-old Aussie-Brit has signed a two-year contract with the Bangladesh Cricket Board, after the powers-that-be decided not to renew Jamie Siddons' contract after a disappointing 2011. Bangladesh fans still bitterly remember the 3-0 whitewashing from Australia this April. Law was previously an assistant coach for Sri Lanka, and later an interim coach after Trevor Bayliss left.
As a player, he served as a top-order batsman for Australia, playing 54 ODIs, but only one Test for the national side. With a reasonable average of 26.89 in the one-day format, Law becomes Bangladesh's fifth foreign coach since we became a Test-playing nation. The domestic circuit is where he really seems to shine though, with a batting average of 50.52 in first-class cricket. He also has some fame as a leg-break bowler, leading some to hail him as an all-rounder. Law has been a successful captain for the Queensland domestic side, leading them for almost ten years. BCB Media Committee Chief Jalal Yunus said, “It's not only his experience as a coach. His strong leadership abilities were a factor in our decision to make him coach.” Everyone will be eager to see what our newest man has up his sleeve when he takes on his first mission - a tour of Zimbabwe this August with both test and one-day matches, but no T20s.
Now that we've seen the stats, its time to put them under the microscope. First and foremost - the glaring lack of experience. A grand total of ONE international Test match doesn't look too promising to this writer. Especially not after all the talk about revoking Bangladesh's Test status. It's still too early to comment, but after a Google search on 'Stuart Law' yielded more results on legal professionals than him, one can't help but be sceptical. Just a bit.
The average cricket-watching Bangladeshi doesn't seem to mind too much, though. Within just a few days of his appointment, Stuart Law already has a fan page on Facebook with more than 400 fans and counting, all wishing him a warm welcome to Bangladesh. With a response like that, one can only imagine that the expectations are ridiculously high. On the plus side, he does have experience on working with a South Asian team, albeit one very different from what he has to deal with now.
Next point to nitpick on would be the fact that Law only came to Bangladesh as Sri Lanka didn't extend his contract. In his own words, “The most important thing for me is job security.” We can only wonder at how motivated he'll be when he takes on a team as volatile as ours. Let's just hope for the best.
Right as we speak, the Tigers are taking some easy time at the beach. It is Coach Law that will decide what they can do when they come back into action. Besides an all-round improvement in performance, he also has to work hard on building the boys' teamwork to make sure they fire as a unit on the field.
Dav Whatmore discovered the trio of Shakib, Tamim and Mushfiq as talented young boys. Jamie Siddons turned them into world-class men. All that's left to be seen is where this new coach can take them.
The eyes are watching. The journey has begun.
Last week we gave you the topic: Primates. The following article was in line with what we were asking for. Next week, our topic is 5:55PM. Try to keep in mind the type of things your competitors might be writing about and try to be a little different. It could be the end of the world, it could be an afternoon football game. Explore the different directions you can take with the plot and storytelling. Submissions within 500 words need to be sent in at firstname.lastname@example.org before Sunday noon. Good luck.
By Shadman Iqbal
Lord St. Simon had to admit, he was impressed by this particular zoo display. Its sheer size simply dwarfed the others, and the circular architecture of the structure was clearly intended to immerse the beholder. There was only one small entrance to the tiny viewing dock, where he stood now, and the ambience within the cage was designed to mimic their natural habitat with ridiculous accuracy. He chuckled. Had it not been for the thick steel bars that kept it at bay, he'd have a hard time convincing himself he wasn't in their jungle.
Unusually for primates, the young were parasitic. They clung to their miserable parents like hideous, bulbous growths, grimacing and gurgling. Soft, shapeless, and toothless, they continuously fed through slimy, gaping mouthparts and had a terrible effect on any adult within a 5 metre range. Presumably by the means of an airborne toxin, they attacked the nervous system, making these unfortunate victims behave as if possessed. It was an absolutely ingenious defence mechanism.
It appeared that apart from females, certain males of the species were capable of bearing children. Yet, while the females managed to carry it with a sort of casual elegance, the severely bloated pregnant male, he observed, was a sight terrible to behold. He shuddered and shifted his attention to their courtship rituals. These, to say the least, were absurd. Females were obviously the dominant species, and courtship involved their prospective mates bowing to shameful depths, adorning them with food and sparkly toys, with a desperation that was revolting irrespective of species.
And there were the stragglers, the lowest of the low, the filthy gunk that clung persistently to the drainpipe of natural selection. These poor, impotent individuals crouched in the shadows, ogling at women nearby, and occasionally emitting pitiful whistling noises that were at their best pathetic. Every now and then they would find themselves running frantically from enthusiastic males hoping to impress the opposite sex. In the end, they served the purpose of evolution's punchbags, while the only fruit they reaped for it was no sweeter than general hate and public humiliation.
St. Simon didn't know whether he wanted to laugh or burst into tears. Here was the species that had been chosen to rule the planet. Obviously this was some sort of bad joke, God's idea of a “divine comedy”. Maybe, God hoped that one of these days, one of their strange contraptions would blow up on their faces. Maybe, the inherent stupidity of the race was God's way of installing a kill switch into his own little practical joke. Lord St. Simon, the chimp, could only guess.
Soon, he grew bored with the kaleidoscope of pointless conversations and overrated emotions that ebbed and flowed around him. He yawned and nestled comfortably on the lone car tyre suspended from the ceiling. Peeling open a banana, he drifted into the land of thought, where human feet had yet to tread.
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