First of all, I am fairly certain that I have played and coached cricket at a lot higher level
than either of you have, and I know a lot more about this sport than you ever will. But, that's a discussion for another time and place.
There have been plenty of sporting champions who are essentially one-dimensional. Anybody who thinks you can't become great with an essentially limited set of skills, is seriously clueless. In sport, you have your geniuses who are freakishly gifted, and then you have your self-made champions who take whatever natural talent they were born with, work hard and forge a succesful career. Wasim Akram falls into the first category, and Glenn McGrath falls into the second category. McGrath was undoubtedly a self-made champion, but he was also a primarily one-dimensional bowler with a basic set of tools.
When somebody describes a sportsman as 'one dimensional' it essentially means that their mode of attack, or game plan doesn't vary that much from opponent to opponent, or from situation to situation. As I said earlier, you can still be a champion, and be one-dimensional. Mike Tyson, at the peak of his powers, was one of the greatest heavyweights in history, but he was essentially a one-dimensional fighter. It didn't matter who the opponent was, he would fight in exactly the same way. Muhammad Ali, on the other hand, was a multi-dimensional fighter. He changed his game plan based on the strengths and weaknesses of his opponent. Sometimes he would dance, other times he would stand toe to toe and trade blows, and as he famously did against George Foreman, he went into the 'rope a dope' to wear Foreman down. That is the essence of a multi-dimensional champion: a guy who can change his strategy and his tactics at any given moment, to expose a weakness in his opponent, and give himself the best chance of success.
Karl Malone was one-dimensional basketballer who took a basic set of skills, refined them and became one of the greatest power forwards in history. He relied on the pick and roll with John Stockton, and his outside jumper. He had limitations, but he was still a champion. Michael Jordan, on the other hand, was a basketball genius who could beat you in any number of ways. He read what the defense gave him, and then he formed an appropriate strategy on any given night. One of the reasons why he was simply unstoppable in the clutch, was because he could beat you in so many ways, and opposition coaches didn't know how to defend him. He had so many weapons
in his armory, that he was simply impossible to beat.
Wasim Akram and Waqar Younis are two other fast bowling champions, with contrasting methods. Waqar Younis was a one-dimensional fast bowler, in that there was no Plan B. He bowled fast and full, and relied primarily on late reverse swing. He wasn't the type of bowler who had the patience to bowl six dot balls in a row, and build pressure. He was an offensive bowler who thought of taking wickets first, and containing runs second. He started his career that way, and he finished his career that way. That is how he was one dimensional: because there was no subtlety to his bowling, and because he didn't change his game plan at any stage in his career.
Wasim Akram, on the other hand, was a true fast bowling master. He had all the tricks of the trade, and made the subtle adjustments against different opponents, in different conditions. He could attack you in any number of ways. There have always been suspicions that Steve Waugh didn't play the short ball very well, so Akram famously unleashed a bounce barrage in Rawalpindi in 1994. There were other times when conditions were overcast, where he would simply rely on swing. On other occasions if nothing much was happening, he would change his direction of attack, and
come around the wicket in an attempt to give the batsman something else to think about. He was always thinking, and always planning something. Wasim Akram was the quintessential fast bowling master who used his brilliant cricket brain, and his extraordinary natural gifts to beat you in a variety of ways, while Waqar Younis was the ultimate one-trick bowler. One guy was unbelievably multi-dimensional, while the other guy was very one-dimensional. Having said that, it didn't stop either of them from becoming champions.
The comparison between Shane Warne and Glenn McGrath also underlines that different bowlers have different modes of opperation. Warne, like Wasim Akram, was a cricketing genius if ever there has been one. He was the ultimate multi-dimensional bowler. Initially Warne relied on his big spinning leg break, and his relentless accuracy. After finger and shoulder surgery, his bowling underwent a major transformation. He didn't turn the ball as much, and relied much more on subtle variation. Warne was multi-dimensional in the sense that his game plan and tactics changed regularly, depending on the opponent and the prevailing conditions. English and South African batsmen primarily didn't leave their crease, and had unconvincing footwork, so Warne built his entire game plan around this technical deficiency. He enticed them with more flighted deliveries to get them out of their comfort zone, or alternatively he simply decided to starve them of run scoring opportunities, push them back into their crease and eventually trap them with his zooter or flipper.
Against Pakistani batsmen, who had better footwork, but were prone to reckless shot selection, he preyed on their incredible ability to self destruct. He would leave mid-wicket open, and tempt them to hit against the spin; knowing full well that more often than not they would take the bait. Against nearly every opponent, and in every situation, you could see Warne's mind ticking over, constantly planning different strategies.On other occasions, Warne would go around the wicket and bowl into the rough, to change his method of operation and attack the blind-spot. That was the essence of Warne's greatness: that he had a seeminly limitless ammount of ability, and could change plans mid-stream, without missing a beat. Whether he was relying on spin, variety, or just his brilliant cricket brain, Shane Warne was the ultimate multi-dimensional bowler.
Glenn McGrath, on the other hand, by his own admission, had one of the simplest game plans in all of cricket. He built his success around scoreboard pressure, and phenomenal accuracy. McGrath was not a fast bowling genius: he was not Wasim Akram, he was not Malcolm Marshall, and he was not Dennis Lillee. He didn't have all of the tricks of the trade, and as many weapons as other fast bowlers. He took a very fundamental set of skills: polished them, refined them, and became very successful. As I have explained, you can be a bona fide sporting champion, and still be one-dimensional and predictable. Very rarely, did McGrath's game plan change, regardless of the circumstances, the opponents, or the conditions. He lived and died, on the tried and true principles of line and length. He owned the corridor of uncertainty, remained patient and waited for a mistake. McGrath didn't come at you; you had to come at him.
That was the essence of his greatness; a seemingly limitless supply of discipline and patience. He had subtle variations, inside of a very basic framework. Now, he took this very simple game plan to every country in the world, rarely deviated from it, and became one of the greatest fast bowlers the game has seen. Nobody questions his greatness, but very few smart cricketing people consider him to be 'The Greatest'. The reality is that the vast majority of the cricket world rates the likes of Malcolm Marshall, Dennis Lillee, Wasim Akram and a few others slightly ahead of him, because they were more brilliant, more attacking, and more skillful.
Finally, as for you two gentlemen, either you don't understand what 'one-dimensional' means, or you simply don't have the depth of knowledge and understanding, that you thought you did. Before you start accusing others of not knowing anything about cricket, you probably need to take a long, hard look in the mirror.
) are all out there trying to perform to the best of their ability - that's the end game - not developing more exciting methods of doing the exact same thing to an identical or worse standard.
