This is a longer post than usual. It began Dec 29, 2023, and is only now seeing the light of day. Conservatively, it should be an easy 9-minute read! Best, Nick
It pains me to say that cricket's Decision Review System (DRS) process has inadvertently turned into an art form! And one team, Pakistan, continues to grapple with its intricacies.
Forget the headline for a minute.
Under Shan Masood's stewardship, Pakistan showed genuine signs of a team on the rise during the recent series in Australia. After a pounding in Perth, they showed ample resilience and skill in the ensuing Melbourne and Sydney Tests to suggest they’re on the right track. Unfortunately, key moments alluded them, instead falling the way of their more predictable hosts.
This column intends to highlight the infiltration of cricket’s DRS system into the central circulatory system of Test cricket and how some countries might not afford it the due consideration it now warrants. This in itself is an ongoing source of frustration for me.
SpeakingNick is a reader-supported venture. Free and paid versions are available. The best way to support me is by taking out a paid subscription.
I began drafting the column during the Boxing Day Test and was all but finished at the end of day three; then, to reaffirm my frustrations with DRS, Mohammad Rizwan’s dismissal gave us all a leaking puzzle to solve. The outcome was pivotal in the eventual result.
To pause briefly. Below, I attempted to explain to a 12-year-old who’s never watched a game of cricket before the ins and outs of cricket’s Decision Review System. If I stop abruptly, you’ll know why, I hope!
Cricket’s DRS is a technology-based system used to check Umpiring decisions—its core function was to remove the umpire’s howlers—they are the decisions that everyone but the Umpire knows to be incorrect.
Wait, there’s more. The system allows teams to challenge the on-field Umpire's decision if they believe it incorrect. The process involves the fielding captain or the dismissed batsman requesting a review within a specific time limit. The third Umpire—who is now arguably more important than the on-field Umpires—then uses various technologies like Ball-tracking*, Ultra-edge*, and Hotspot* to review the decision.
Just a little longer. If the review is via the fielding captain and the original decision was not out, and this is overturned by DRS, the on-field Umpire reverts his decision to out. Conversely, in the case of a review by the dismissed batter and the original decision is overturned, the on-field Umpire changes his decision to not out. The watching world is made aware of this by the on-field Umpire turning a rosy shade of red before crossing his arms—similar to the brace position on a nose-diving airliner—and then readjusting his original decision.
“Are we nearly there yet?” Another variable is Umpire’s call*, which refers to a situation where the on-field Umpire's original decision stands if the ball-tracking technology indicates the ball's trajectory is within a certain margin of error of hitting the stumps. The rule has been a topic of debate as it allows the Umpire's decision to stand even if the technology suggests a different outcome. But please be reassured by the closing sentence: The DRS aims to ensure fair decision-making in cricket. Wonderful stuff. I know he or she is likely asleep!
At 5-219, Pakistan, chasing a fourth-innings victory, found themselves squarely in the game, by no means a certainty, but they had a shot. Rizwan and Agha Salman’s partnership stood at 57—and both looked resolute in both defence and attack.
Then, surprise, Pat Cummins delivered a sniping collar-bone height short ball that followed Rizwan as he tried to evade its path. The point of contact was hard to decipher—frog in blender stuff. Clearly, there was contact as the ball passed Rizwan en route to Alex Carey, but what part of the body it touched was anyone's guess. Every on-field Umpire of this generation and previous would have ruled not out; there was too much doubt to conclusively rule in Cummins' favour. So, the standing Umpire*, Michael Gough, rightly adjudged, “not out”.
What happens next?
If you followed the muddled explanation above, you would presumably assume that Pat Cummins, as both the bowler and fielding captain, would choose to review Gough’s original decision. Correct, Australia reviewed.
And how did Cummins and Australia arrive at that decision; could it be on a whim, or was there more to it?
International cricketers are now expected to commentate whilst playing—some are more partial to this new category of all-rounders than others. And, once left blissfully in the dark like youthful mushrooms, the cricketing public is now privy to the tangled code players use to game both the Umpires and the indefensible DRS system.
Here’s my version of how ‘Rizwan-gate’ went down.
It's called the 1-2-3-1 formation, as opposed to Josep ‘Pep’ Guardiola, manager of Manchester City, preferred 3-2-4-1 combination. More on Pep’s 3-2-4-1 here if you’re a fan!
The 1-2-3-1 naturally starts with the bowler and his appeal, this is the (1). The (2) part combines the fielders' square of the wicket, usually cover point and square leg/short leg. And then the (3) part will be the wicketkeeper and a couple of the slip cordon, usually a position reserved for batters, experienced ones at that, trusted decision makers! Finally, the second (1) is the fielding captain, who then makes his decision based on the sum of the other parts. 1-2-3-1. Confused yet?
Cummins bowls and appeals, which is turned down by Gough, this then initiates the chain reaction. The ball is passed to Lyon at cover, who passes to Alex Carey, who turns to his right, preferring the gaze of Steve Smith over David Warner. All this while the clock ticks down; Rizwan is sweating like a robber's dog; Cummins awaits the evidence; it’s presented, and he signals a review with approximately three seconds on the clock. Now, everyone holds their breath.
Enter the third Umpire, who’s just finished a cup of Rosie Lee and a McVitie’s Digestive. He grabs his printed checklist and starts from the top: bowler's foot behind the line (is it a legit delivery)? Then, “Front-on vision, please.”
He is looking for clear evidence that the ball made contact with the bat, glove, or wristband (connected to the glove). He, the third Umpire, might also use Snicko or Ultra edge to help detect contact with the above. In this case, Richard Illingworth continued using front-on vision to confirm that the ball had touched Rizwan’s sweatband on the way to Alex Carey. This was akin to a police line-up with the prime suspect wearing an ‘I did it’ t-shirt.
Rizwan has now stopped perspiring because he’s caught on camera. The Australian viewing room sees the evidence first, which is then relayed to the troops via carrier pigeon. The Aussies have their man. The play worked perfectly. 1-2-3-1!
You must feel for Mohammad Rizwan; this felt like a kangaroo court set-up. Illingworth searched without remorse for scant evidence to overturn his colleague's original decision. Gough did nothing wrong either by erring on the side of caution. Rizwan just got in a tangle—he’s not the first to suffer at the hands of Pat Cummins. Illingworth upheld the law: the glove’s wristband is part of the glove connected to the bat. The only person to get anything wrong here was Mr. Common Sense.
Since Pat Cummins's initial appeal, an average patron would be halfway down a standard-sized beer before Michael Gough overturned his ‘not out’ decision. Such is the absurdity of the DRS; it affects the patron's drinking patterns
Apologies, I got carried away. So, what does this have to do with Pakistan’s inability to unite on a more trustworthy DRS plan?
Compared to Australia, Pakistan’s leadership structure has almost always operated under a top-down doctrine. The team is woodenly reliant on a captain, coach, or selector to make most of the decisions with little input from less-experienced players. You could argue that Pakistan's style reflects a more authoritarian approach that values hierarchy and control—perhaps in line with their country’s political values.
In contrast, Australia's leadership structure is based on a democratic approach. The captain, coaches and support staff solicit team members' feedback, ideas, and consensus. Strategies and decisions flow from a collaborative effort to synthesise perspectives. I do not want to sound flippant, but this is evident in how they administer their DRS process.
While neither structure guarantees victory or strategic superiority, Australia's decentralised method empowers players and appears sustainable. As seen in occasional power struggles and politics, Pakistan's centralised authority can be more volatile over transitions.
Of course, quality individual leaders can temporarily overcome deficiencies in high-level design. Still, for enduring excellence, Australia's consultative checks-and-balances system provides a more adaptable foundation to absorb inevitable adversity. That’s the 1-2-3-1 system, Pep!
Shan Masood has a lot on his plate; the good news for him and Pakistan's supporters is that he carries a more balanced appetite than some of his predecessors.
As always, thank you for being here.