A wag in the tail

It is the second Test of the 1932-33 Bodyline series and Australia's No.11, Bert Ironmonger, is trudging out to bat at the MCG. His wife phones the dressing room and is told she has just missed him: he is halfway to the crease. "That's okay," she replies. "I'll hang on."

This story may be apocryphal but it is grounded in enough truth to be believable: Ironmonger averaged under 3 in Tests and played in an age when bowlers bowled, batsmen batted, and the lower order rarely troubled the scorers. The contrast with today appears stark, as anyone who witnessed the India tailender Anil Kumble bat for three-and-a-half hours for his unbeaten 110 at The Oval in 2007 will know. (Let us hope Mrs Kumble was not on the phone waiting.)

Centuries from the lower order, like Kumble's, are more common now than ever. Jason Gillespie even hit a double-hundred, against Bangladesh in 2006, albeit as nightwatchman. And as the first table below shows, a tailender reaches three figures every 88 innings in the 2000s, compared with every 134 in the 1990s and every 193 in the 1960s.

"Gone are the days when you get the opposition six down and you're already thinking about batting," says the ECB's new performance director, David Parsons. "You really have to work hard to roll over a tail in Test cricket nowadays."

Three reasons for this immediately spring to mind. First, cricket has grown ever more batsman-friendly over the years: the pitches are flatter and drier; the bats are chunkier, with bigger sweet-spots; the guards and helmets are sturdier; the front-foot rule and limits on behind-square fielders make no-balling likelier. It is no wonder today's tails are wagging; batsmen at all numbers score more easily.

Secondly, there is the influence of one-day cricket, where with wickets regularly clattering, scoring down the order is a must. Tailenders in all forms of the game are thus more adept at hitting runs, especially quick runs. Even technically limited players, like Steve Harmison and Shoaib Akhtar, have bashed their way to some decent Test scores.

Thirdly, and most importantly for Parsons, there is the professionalism of the modern game. "It's universally accepted now that one-dimensional cricketers are a luxury. A tailender is expected to contribute with the bat, just like a recognised batsman is expected to be good in the field. At the top level you're always trying to find an extra few per cent advantage over your opposition."

So how much time do England's 9, 10 and Jack spend on finding these magical few per cent, and would they not be better off just spending it on their bowling? "In the days running up to a Test, guys like Monty Panesar and Jimmy Anderson train in three-hour blocks -- devoting an hour each to bowling, batting and fielding," says Parsons. "With a Test match looming, we also don't like to over-burden them bowling-wise, particularly the fast bowlers. Which means they've more time to spend with [batting coach] Andy Flower."

Will they be perfecting their cross-batted mow over midwicket? "No, they'll be working on their technique, whether in the nets or studying on videos," says Parsons. "Predominantly this'll be on developing a sound defence, plus a few shots to get off strike. Just by sticking around at the crease for 30 balls, that might allow your No. 6 to dominate the strike, face 90 balls himself and score 50 runs."

The career-long improvement in Glenn McGrath's play is testament to this. By continual work on his batting not only did his average leap from 3.18 in his first 25 matches to 12.26 in his last 25; more significantly, the average number of balls he faced per dismissal shot up too, from 10 to 26. Asterisks by McGrath's name became a familiar sight on the Australian scorecard, and just by occupying the crease he would allow a free-scoring team-mate like Adam Gilchrist - or, memorably, Mike Hussey with whom he shared a 10th-wicket partnership of 107 in 2005-06, of which McGrath scored 11 from 56 of the 165 balls - to collect a bucketful of runs at the other end.

McGrath's stats may be misleading, though. One could assume from them that today's tailenders are far handier with the bat than their predecessors, but the overall figures tell a surprising story: tails do not actually wag any more now than before. Numbers 7-11 average under 19 per head in the 2000s, less than the corresponding figure for the 1980s; and their contribution to total runs scored (20.72%) is less than in the 1980s and the 1950s. In fact, the cross-decade figures are remarkably similar: a tailender's average has consistently been between 16 and 19 and the tail has consistently scored 18-21% of all runs.

Contribution by tail (Nos. 7-11) by decade

	Decade	Innings per century	Average innings	% of team totals
	1940s	102	18.17	18
	1950s	182	16.16	21
	1960s	192	18.12	20
	1970s	136	18.35	20
	1980s	93	19.37	22
	1990s	134	17.36	20
	2000s	88	18.84	21

Includes only teams who have played more than ten matches

It seems the hype over a few extra individual centurions has clouded the truth that the tail contribute no more now as a troupe than they have ever done.

But why so? In part this might be because the 2000s have been dominated by Shane Warne and Muttiah Muralitharan, who have hoovered up countless tails between them. A plucky No. 9 can practise digging out yorkers and fending off short balls all he likes to combat the quicks but preparing to face arguably the two greatest spinners ever is notoriously hard. Indeed, the lack of quality spinners in the 1980s might explain why the tail prospered most in that decade.

The lower order may have been victims of their own perceived success. Because they are now working so hard on their batting and scoring more centuries, bowlers in turn are refusing them the liberties they once had. Gone are the days when pacemen took pity and observed an etiquette of not roughing up tailenders with short stuff. They are treated like any other batsmen nowadays, and this may have harmed their figures.

There is also a growing sense that many sides are beginning to see beyond and through arguments for a strong tail at all costs. Relying on the top six or seven to score the bulk of the runs and picking bowlers on their bowling ability alone are seemingly becoming fashionable again.

Double-hundred or not, Gillespie was dropped by Australia after that match and has not played since because of his sub-standard bowling. While South Africa's former lower-order players (Lance Klusener, Andrew Hall, Nicky Boje, etc) often seemed more impressive with bat than ball, their vice-captain Ashwell Prince suggested a philosophy change when, during the recent series against New Zealand, he said: "You have to get their guys out. If a team declares on over 500, it doesn't matter if our guys at eight, nine or 10 can bat."

Likewise in post-Fletcher England. Michael Vaughan said before the recent Tests in Sri Lanka: "We'd love to have [lower-order] guys who can get fifties and hundreds ... but we have to try to pick the right bowlers to get 20 wickets, which is a positive step to try and win. If we miss out by a few runs in the batting, so be it."

Vaughan's use of the word "positive" is significant. For the professionalism of the modern game is a double-edged sword. Yes, teams want to earn every last run from every last player but they also want to maximise their chance of taking 20 wickets to win a game. Are the two mutually exclusive?

Parsons thinks not: "You pick your bowlers primarily on their ability to bowl but that doesn't stop you working up the batting skills of the ones you do pick, as much as possible."

So which side has the strongest tail (Table 2)? And how successful have they been? The resounding answer to the first question is New Zealand, whose tailenders over the last three years have had by far the best average per head (almost 24 -- no other country averages above 20) and contributed by far the biggest share of their team's runs (22% -- next best are Bangladesh, with just under 17%). Yet the Black Caps have won fewer matches in that period than any other major Test nation except West Indies. Is there a connection?

Certainly, says New Zealand's No. 11 Shane Bond (who averages 12.63). "Our top order just hasn't been getting us off to the starts we need. So the guys below are regularly under pressure to deliver, they're getting used to a lot of Test match batting and they're scoring a big chunk of the runs."

The dominance of one-day cricket in New Zealand may also be a connecting factor between their strong tail and poor form. While their players are adept at every discipline they are exceptional at none, making them unsuitable for the fierce skill examination of Tests.

"I don't think so," says Bond. "We're just blessed right now with a number of bowlers - especially Daniel Vettori and James Franklin - who can also bat. Their abilities come to the fore most in ODIs but we'd be in real trouble without them in the Test team too."

Test averages of tail (Nos. 8-11) by team, 2005 to 2007

	Team	Matches	Inns by tail	Runs	% of team totals	Avg	100s/50s	Team wins	Win %
	New Zealand	17	97	1681	22	23.68	2/7	6	35
	Australia	27	128	1855	11	19.94	1/4	21	78
	India	29	145	2021	12	18.71	2/4	11	38
	South Africa	30	159	2158	13	18.60	0/6	14	47
	Sri Lanka	27	139	1693	13	16.60	1/4	14	52
	Pakistan	29	170	2089	12	16.32	3/3	9	31
	England	37	215	2123	10	13.44	0/3	13	35
	Bangladesh	15	111	1059	17	12.03	0/6	1	7
	West Indies	25	165	1535	12	11.90	0/6	1	4

Includes only teams who have played more than ten matches

Whatever the explanation, the case of New Zealand suggests a successful tail does not make for a successful team. In fact, it might even be a sign of weakness. Maybe flooding your lower order with players who bat decently could be seen as a default option for teams who do not have enough talented batsmen to score heavily or enough talented bowlers to take wickets. (In their last Test, against South Africa in November, New Zealand fielded no batsman with an average over 40 and no frontline bowler with an average under 34.)

The most successful sides - 2000s Australia and 1980s West Indies - pick themselves: the best six batsmen and best four bowlers, who excel so much at their major discipline that they are not often needed to contribute in another. It tends to be the lesser teams who jiggle the balance of their sides. And though Australia do have the world's second-best-averaging tail, that is probably more a welcome side-effect of their strong top order than testament to hang-ups about a strong tail. Batting is far easier once Matthew Hayden, Ricky Ponting and the other brutes have exhausted the opposition bowlers. Even Bert Ironmonger's wife might have had to stay on the phone a while if he had played in that team.