Harbhajan Singh and the divine power of willow

Last year it was Sreesanth. This year it was Deccan that felt the implacable wrath of Harbhajan Singh [surely it's no coincidence that the name A. Symonds appeared on their team sheet]. His 18-ball 49 was the kind of innings that provoked a deep, chesty laugh and a shit-eating grin. 

For those who believe in the divining [and divine] power of willow, he was using a bat given to him by Sachin. That thing must have some universal vibes pulsing through it. But beyond that, Harbhajan is an example of a rarely discussed and probably underrated phenomenon, the bowler who can bat. 

It's a genre of its own, distinct from the bowling all-rounder [a group  that includes players like Graeme Swann and Daniel Vettori]. It's populated by men who came into the game to bowl, but then - by stealth, utilising a natural talent and via experience - batting ability, and often flair, asserts itself.

It's not usually measurable by average because performances will probably be sporadic and also late-flowering, meaning there is an early career's worth of stats to overcome. Bhaji's Test average is 16.86, his ODI 12.93. Shane Warne, a prime example of the breed, averaged 17.32 in Tests and 13.05 in ODIs; another goodie, Malcolm Marshall, averaged 18.85 in Tests and 14.92 in ODIs. In first-class cricket, you might pick out a player like John Emburey, who ended his career with seven first class hundreds, and ten Test fifties. 

All are or were dangerous. They have or had a little more to their batting than just tail-end hitting. It's a genre that, in T20 cricket and all of its freedoms, is likely to expand, because that style of batting is well-suited to a clear eye and a swing freed up by the lack of expectation.