Blacks Caps just don't possess the hunger

OPINION: I had just finished as I flew over Maharashtra. I like Indian food and had bolted the palak paneer. Made me burp and ... oh dear. Runs and New Zealand batting.

Once again New Zealand began stretching Australia in the much maligned 50-over format. Once again the team's power is suddenly undermined as someone pulls a hamstring carrying a croissant, breaks a wrist catching a frisbee, or fields at mid-on. Once again runs are a problem.

The New Zealand bowlers set up games one and two and our batting responded once. Then Hamilton and Auckland (emphatically) confirmed old news. To bat first, you must cope with the pressure of constructing a sufficient target.

Not since Nathan Astle does a New Zealand batsman often propel our side to a win with a dominant innings. It seems several smaller cameos have replaced the longer innings to make a difference. Decisive is not currently in these batsmen's vocabulary, nor is assessment of risk. Being bowled out in the last three games came at great cost.

Oh for some openers! That hoary old subject! Peter Ingram is the latest guess.

I've felt for some time, despite his assurances otherwise, Brendon McCullum resides there to paper over a large black hole. He's not an Astle – higher strike rate – yes, and he's had fewer chances, but with only two centuries Brendon simply doesn't influence enough games.

He would still get a batting power play in the role of finisher and better use of his mercurial speed because there are more gaps in the field and still be the difference at No6 or No7. He could even keep.

There are some encouraging signs. With the caveat of "bat longer" ringing in the ears, a middle order is emerging. Ross Taylor's distinguished days may be coming. Martin Guptill hasn't matched his lively promise yet. Jesse Ryder is absent. Jacob Oram is (cut and paste) absent, Team Pig's eponymous founder has found some favour and form.

Then there's the skipper (Daniel Vettori) himself. A sneak and a paradox.

Part classical left arm – convention scrupulously observed and sanctioned by experience. And part home-forged bat.

Wafty-biffs, slaps and wrist-rotating jabs become the menu. He moves around the crease more than a door-to-door salesman, nervelessly showing his stumps and choosing unusual spots to expose weaknesses in the field. His eye (give his optometrist a medal) and imagination snatch runs appropriate to the situation.

It's a medley of exotic offerings unaccustomed to seeing each other on the same plate, yet strangely pleasing and effective. Daniel Luca is no meat and two veg man.

As a bowler he often gets by without the runs a spinner likes to play with and plying his craft rather too early against a top order. Only with a little help from his friends.

He enjoys disguises thoughtfully applied. He doesn't devour with the ball. He nags. NZ cricket has had a decade of that amble back, wheeling and working the ball around in his artful fingers.

Around 2000 ODI overs on tasteless pitches, he goes at four runs per over. (This current series 27 overs, 5-108 at exactly 4's). He has no doosra. He's cultivated guile. He urges curve and dip and flight. He lives on minimal turn and kills his prey gently, a connoisseur quietly leading them towards death. Nothing too vigorous or sudden. Until the last moment they discover themselves groping, their feet in cement. The bat lured across the line or beyond the pad. Deceived.

Or he's at it in the field. A gangling, bearded spin doctor, plotting at mid-off arrayed in the black cap he was more or less born in. As a decision is reached and he motions a short-hand wave to another player a straight drive threatens the boundary nearby. His levers consult a manual and No8 wire twitches into action. He dives in a series of jerks, a mixture of Meccano and improbable saves. A player who is more than he appears.

It would be good if the batsmen could get their recipe better organised today and ease the team's indigestion.

- © Fairfax NZ News