Enter The Dragon — Cricket’s greatest unknown player

In the recent embarrassing wrangling in West Indies cricket, which saw elite players dropped from the team over fighting between past and present sponsors, I was preparing to be called up by the selectors. You won’t laugh when I tell you that apart from myself and God, nobody else knows that I am cricket’s greatest ever unknown player! I make no apologies for this boastful boast. You think billions of Chinese have not been preparing for the emergence of the yellow-skinned Gary Sobers?  You think it is only West Indies players have contracts? It is my contract with Newsday that has suppressed my cricketing abilities and denied me the chance to step up to the wicket before this and make my debut with the men in maroon.

I have prayed that without me, the lads could stick it out and try their best to keep the leaky Windies ship afloat. I prayed that without me out there in the field Herschelle Gibbs did not break Lara’s World Test batting record or Ntini not take ten wickets. As it is, the Windies seem to be on the verge of winning. And without me. Were it not for my contract with this newspaper, the West Indies would have been guaranteed a win in Bourda this weekend with me playing the role of match-winning all-rounder. You see, not many people know that I am no ordinary cricket fan, but an avid one and a studious observer of the science of cricket. I have studied the skills and techniques of the cricket masters for decades up to the present time. 

I have been told by people who owe me money, that I possess the natural swagger of a Brian Lara, the control and timing of a Chris Gayle and the tenacity and boldness of a Ramnaresh Sarwan. All of these attributes, plus my mastery of the difficult art of back-of-the arm ‘‘Chinaman’’ bowling (which I was able to perfect upon birth and being named Chee Hing), would surely have made me a match-winner and asset to the team and cause. But alas, I am unable at this time to offer my services to Windies cricket, for breaking my contract with this newspaper would mean instant dropping (a nicer term for dismissal) from the journalistic team of the People’s Newspaper as we continue to win the battle to bring the best news and views to our many readers.

In addition to my contract, I also have a personal endorsement with Newsday in that I personally endorse this newspaper as the real deal.
And what a difference I would have made to the team, as I left the pavilion and swaggered out to the stumps. I can see it now, Bourda packed to overflowing with thousands of diehard Windies supporters interspersed with a couple dozen asses who came only to see the Windies’ guaranteed demise — that is — until Chee Hing came in to save the day and the match. This is how I envision the match to have gone had I stepped in. DAY 1 — The Windies win the toss and decide to bat first. Ntini bowls a wide first ball which is headed towards first slip when our opener throws his bat at the ball, catches the edge and is gobbled up by the man as third slip. 0 — 1.

Eight runs later, the other opener tries to run eight runs when only a single is on offer and is run out by miles. 8 - 2. The 50 comes up with three more wickets falling and the Bourda faithful are baying for blood and the head of the WICB jefe Roger Brathwaite. Batsman number seven, none other than the Dragon Ken Chee Hing, enters the battlefield with Chanderpaul already ensconced at the other end, batting resolutely. Commentators ‘‘Reds’’ Pereira, Tony Cozier and Colin Croft are searching frantically in the record books to see when and where before Chee Hing  played first class cricket prior to this inning. They soon realise how little they really know.

First ball of my test career is a yorker by Jacques Kallis which I dance forward to meet and drive back over his head for a glorious four. A deathly silence falls over Bourda as the Chinese Lara unleashes hellfire on the hapless bowlers. Chanderpaul smiles as he continues his solid batting. With the swift and deadly accuracy of Bruce Lee on steroids I cut, pull and hook my way towards a debut century and its not even lunch on the first day as yet. All of Bourda are on their feet filling the air with applause while some run onto the field and fill my pockets with Guyanese dollars. At the end of Day One, we close at 260 for five.

Day 2, I rattle on to 322, by far the highest debut knock by a Test player. I edge a ball behind and walk although no one even appealed for caught behind. As I trudge back to the pavilion, Tony Cozier declares my walking was reminiscent of a certain Prince of Port-of-Spain who was dethroned because of the battle between Digicel and Cable and Wireless (who incidentally are from Ireland and England — Sinn Fein versus Mother England?). We eventually declare the first innings at 790 for nine. Chanderpaul completes his double century and becomes the first Windies captain to hit a double on captaincy debut. However, the South Africans are not overawed by our mammoth first innings and openers Smith and Gibbs put on a double century opening partnership that is unbroken. All of our bowlers are put to the sword.

Day 3, Chanderpaul makes the crucial decision that decisively tilts the match the Windies way. He hands me the ball. Bourda is quiet as a humble Chinaman from Trinidad proceeds to mesmerise the batsman with his back-of-the-arm “Chinaman” bowling. None survives my top spinners, doosra, arm-ball and wrong ’un. The Chinese ninja weaves his magic and scythes through the South African batting line-up. From a position of strength at 232 for nought, the South Africans are reduced to 232 for five — all coming courtesy yours truly with a hattrick to boot. South Africa are bowled out for 260, with me taking nine wickets with the Chinaman technique, which relies heavily on the guile of a slant-eyed  dragon.

Day 4 and we invite the Africans to bat once again. I open the bowling and immediately dispatch Smith, Gibbs, Rudolph and Kallis. By tea on Day Four the match is over and I take a disappointing seven wickets in the second innings. No one has to guess who gets the Man of the Match award eh? This is how the First Test would have gone had I — Cricket’s greatest ever unknown — played.