Dylan Cleaver: Any Given Monday - You can stick your pink ball where the sun don't shine

ANY GIVEN MONDAY

If day-night matches are test cricket's future, then it's a bleak one.

New Zealand played horribly with the bat in Perth, they laid a turd that could not be polished, but viewing the debacle through a wider lens you cannot escape the conclusion that the poor performance masked a greater truth: it was four days of mostly bad cricket.

The entire test stunk from the moment the coin landed on the parched surface of Optus Stadium and effectively decided the result. Pretty sure that's not what the marketers had in mind when they decided that test cricket under lights was going to sex up the sport.

Decorum dictates the insertion of some qualifiers here, so let it be noted for the record:

•There's a good chance New Zealand would have been turned over in a similar way in a day test (they batted like a team who had spent a month playing the Te Kuiti High School Colts only to be suddenly confronted by a world-class attack);

•The result is weighted too heavily towards the toss in cricket all around the world, especially New Zealand (although not this summer), where the losers often find themselves taking guard on emerald green strips;

•Presumably, key personnel within New Zealand Cricket saw and approved the itinerary and thought it was a good idea to play a day-night test with no appropriate preparation;

•There was the odd thing to cheer, like Steve Smith's catch, Marnus Labuschagne's application, Mitchell Starc and Pat Cummins' pace, and the tickers of Tim Southee and Neil Wagner.

That's about it.

The test was otherwise devoid of life, played to a blindingly obvious formula in front of a paltry, disengaged crowd. That in itself is ironic, because day-night tests were conceived largely for their crowd-pleasing properties – read: basically the chance to drink at a more acceptable hour – but the processional nature of them is anything but.

Lockie Ferguson wasn't the only person in Optus Stadium wondering where the crowd was. Photo / Photosport

Test cricket is a game that is meant to stress its players by putting it through not just a test of skills, but of tactics and strategy.

The strategic imperative of day-night tests revolves entirely around a sundial.

We had the ludicrous situation on day two when Australian captain Tim Paine, who was batting with the lower order, effectively stopped the match in its tracks to ensure his side would have a fresh attack and a new ball under lights. It was only once this scenario was guaranteed that the game started again and the batsmen started playing shots.

Perhaps some strange folk find it appealing, but you're seriously mistaken if you think a part-time spinner wheeling down maidens is going to win the sport new fans (and yes, New Zealand could have done more to force the issue).

That's not a knock on Paine either. Kane Williamson would have done the same thing, as would have Joe Root, Virat Kohli or any other captain with a semblance of common sense.

Why wouldn't you?

Just like sunshine was never the problem, now it'd be wrong to blame it on the moonlight. You could, at a pinch, blame it on the boogie, but that'd also be missing the point.

The problem is the ball.

Mitchell Starc with pink ball in hand. Photo / Photosport

The pink ball is a hopeless failure. The disparity between facing a new ball in daylight and a new ball under lights is so stark that all test cricket's subtle rhythms are bludgeoned by the desire to manipulate the clock.

On each of days two, three and four, five wickets fell under the lights. Seventeen of the 39 wickets were in the evening and there would have been far more on day four except there were no more wickets to take. None of them were cheap wickets while the slog was on.

The only day there wasn't a procession of sacrificial lambs was day one when Australia were set and the ball was old. Even then, when New Zealand got to take the second new ball it was largely fortune that prevented more falling.

Unless Kookaburra can get it right, day-nighters won't save tests, they'll hasten its demise.

To repeat: that wasn't just a bad performance by New Zealand; it was bad, barely watchable cricket.

If administrator's feel that test cricket's future is under lights because it's the only way to attract a swipe-right generation, then they're looking for love in all the wrong places.

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There is a fine line between loyalty and stubbornness.

The ongoing selection of Jeet Raval has gone barreling past that line and is now butting up against cruelty.

Jeet Raval on his way back to the dressing room. Photo / Photosport

(By the way, Starc's "last chance of your career" sledge was harsh but not over the top, however the replaying of it by the Fox broadcast team for the entertainment of themselves was out of line.)

This is not a sudden loss of form. It is a two-year slump. In his past 23 test innings he has registered 14 single-figure scores, including his pair of ones in Perth. He has passed 50 just twice, including 132 against Bangladesh at Hamilton.

The idea that there are no other palatable options was and still is a cop out.

Selectors have a job to do in good times and bad. Selection is not just about separating the wheat from the chaff, but sometimes working out which chaff can pass as wheat.

Anybody with half an interest in New Zealand cricket could tell you that the options at opener are not obvious and far from abundant.

But if selection is only about doing the obvious, then why pay anybody for the role?

If you want the title, do the job.

THE MONDAY LONG READ ...

Continuing my end-of-year tour of conceit, here's another couple of yarns from 2019 that I enjoyed writing that you might have missed.

On a trip to the States to cover Joseph Parker's fight against Alex Leapai, I caught up with a charismatic gangster-turned-boxer-turned-entrepreneur. It was an hour or two I won't forget.

It took Chris Eaton a long time to feel comfortable talking about the tragedy that upended his life, and the love that helped him rebuild it.