Long before he was Thala’s right-hand man, the CSK coaching maestro behind five IPL titles, all decked out in yellow, Stephen Fleming was more commonly associated with the colour black; a tactical savant carrying the batting hopes of a nation. My clearest memories of Fleming are not in a coaching box, nor even at the batting crease, but standing expectantly at slip, hands larger than those nets they use to catch stray dogs. To throw you an early statistical bone, Fleming’s catches per innings ratio of 171 catches in 199 innings (0.86) is bested only by Steve Smith, with 200 catches in 221 innings (0.9). When it comes to Fleming’s career, that’s just the tip of the iceberg.
These days, Fleming’s legacy is firmly cemented, both as one of the first great coaches during T20’s nascence, as well as an undisputed New Zealand cricketing great. Most fans would find a spot for Fleming in an all-time New Zealand XI, likely as much for his near-mythical captaincy and slip fielding as his batting. However, this wasn’t always so certain. Dig a little deeper, and you’ll discover Fleming’s career was anomalous in several ways. Actually, anomalous doesn’t do it justice: it’s downright statistical silliness.
I knew Fleming was a unique player, but I didn’t realise quite how unique before researching this article, forging an archetype that is almost one-of-a-kind. Specifically, no player has ever scored more Test runs than Fleming with a worse conversion rate between fifties and hundreds, while few have a greater discrepancy between their home and away batting averages (just, not in the order you’d probably expect).
First, we should address the elephant in the room. Fleming’s conversion rate was a topic of perpetual discussion and frustration throughout his career, with New Zealand fans repeatedly tearing their hair out as another pretty 70 went to waste. To this day, Fleming’s Cricinfo profile includes the line: “Nine Test centuries were a poor return for such a talent…” If anything, that’s an understatement. To see a Fleming on-drive was to watch pure batting elegance, better befitting a man whose average started with a 5, and whose hundred tally started with a 2.
Perhaps nothing more aptly summarises the Fleming experience than his final Test against England in Napier, a match better remembered for Tim Southee’s debut six-hitting blitz. In New Zealand’s first innings, Fleming top-scored with 59. Only one other batter passed 15—Jamie How got 44—as Ryan Sidebottom ran amok with 47/7.
Heading into the final innings, the game was already lost, with England setting an impossible chase of 552 on the back of third-innings tons from Strauss and Bell. There was little chance of batting out a draw, either, with New Zealand needing to survive the best part of six sessions. Given this, attention rightly turned to Fleming’s final Test innings, hoping to send off a New Zealand legend with whatever style could be salvaged. To finish with a career average above 40, Fleming needed to score at least 53 runs. Anything less would have been a travesty. Already, 40 was far too low. He finished with 66, before a cut shot to Monty Panesar ended Fleming’s Test career, getting him caught behind. The Cricinfo commentary describes it as “…a slightly lazy shot.” It was an all-too-familiar story. Another silky fifty laced with promise came to a premature end, not with a bang, but with a whimper. Think James Vince, having just fallen into a vat of radioactive ooze. There was to be no fairytale final hundred to bring his tally to double digits. Fleming, fittingly, ended his career with twin fifties and an average of 40.06.
Those two farewell fifties took Fleming’s tally to 46, along with nine Test hundreds—a conversion rate of just 16.36%. For context, Williamson, Smith, and Kohli all have marks between 46 and 49%. Even Joe Root, long the subject of punchlines for his failure to convert, has a mark of 35%. In ODI cricket, Fleming scored eight hundreds and 49 fifties, for a conversion rate of 14%, although in an era where ODI hundreds were far rarer, these numbers don’t stand out as much. For example, Steve Waugh scored just three hundreds and 45 fifties, for a conversion rate of 6.25%, while Arjuna Ranatunga had four hundreds to 49 fifties (bear that in mind).
As mentioned, no one has scored more Test runs than Fleming with a worse conversion rate than his 16.36%. In fact, no one is even close. Among batters to score at least 7,000 Test runs, the next worst rate belongs to Michael Atherton, who racked up 16 hundreds and 46 fifties, for a conversion rate of 25%. Angelo Mathews isn’t far behind at 16 hundreds and 45 fifties, converting at 26%. To look at it another way, no other batter to cross fifty at least fifty times in Test cricket has scored fewer than 10 hundreds. The next lowest ton tallies belong to Chris Gayle and Alec Stewart, with 15 apiece. When he was rising rapidly through the ranks and debuting in first-class cricket as a teenager, many hoped that Fleming would be a one-of-a-kind batter, but not in this way.
All time, 57 batters have scored at least 2,000 Test runs with a conversion rate below 20%. I say batters, but I really mean cricketers. When you peruse this list, something stands out immediately: among the top 20, you’ll find six wicketkeepers (Dhoni, Boucher, Knott, Healy, Haddin, Marsh), eight all-rounders (Flintoff, Pollock, Hadlee, Jadeja, Watson, Woolley, Shakib, and Cairns), and three more bowlers who just happened to hang around long enough to rack up enough runs to qualify (Warne, Vaas, Broad). This all tracks: with other skills to fall back on, you’re not expecting these players to be masters of converting; just getting to fifty is usually useful enough, if your top order is doing their jobs.
There are just three specialist batters among the top-20 on this inglorious list: Fleming, Ranatunga (what did I tell you), and Bavuma. To save Fleming’s blushes ever so slightly, Ranatunga’s conversion rate sits at just 9.5% (four hundreds to 38 fifties) and Bavuma’s at 14.29% (four hundreds to 24 fifties, at the time of writing). There may seem to be little connecting these three, but there is one common thread: they’re all inspirational, borderline legendary captains. That description is possibly a bit too strong for Bavuma, yet, although if he secured a WTC victory, who knows? It certainly applies to Fleming, a tactical mastermind, and Ranatunga, who is still talked about in awe-inspired tones among Sri Lankan cricket circles. I don’t claim to know why these three in particular struggled so much to convert, but is it possible their minds were elsewhere while batting, too occupied by the tactical nuances of the game, too worried about their teammates’ success, to always focus fully on converting their starts?
As alluded to, Fleming’s subpar conversion rate is only part of the puzzle. In first-class cricket, Fleming racked up 35 hundreds and 93 fifties, for a more respectable conversion rate of 27%. So, it wasn’t necessarily that Fleming couldn’t convert fifties into hundreds; it was that he struggled to do it at the same rate in Test cricket. More to the point, it was that he struggled to do it at home, where most elite batters feast. Fleming scored just two of his Test hundreds in New Zealand, along with 21 fifties, converting just 8.9% of the time. Away from home, that climbs to seven hundreds and 25 fifties, for a more respectable mark of 21.8%. That’s right, his conversion rate doubled away from home, while his hundred production more than tripled. Both Bavuma and Ranatunga, his closest contemporaries in terms of conversions, average in the early-40s at home and in the low-30s away; entirely normal for an above-average Test batter. Fleming has that in reverse.
In fact, Fleming’s away numbers have him keeping company with the all-time greats. There have been 774 men to bat at least 20 Test innings away from home, with Fleming notching the 61st best batting average and the 28th most total away runs. Fleming’s 4,225 away runs have him alongside Wally Hammond (4,245), Gordon Greenidge (4,349), and, fittingly, Kane Williamson (4,134). Likewise, his away average of 45.9 has him in the same ballpark as Javed Miandad (45.8), Ricky Ponting (46.4), Alistair Cook (46.5), and Shivnarine Chanderpaul (45.4). There is no New Zealander above him on the list, with Mitchell, Williamson, and Turner’s away averages all lagging a run or two behind Fleming’s. If you were to organise an all-time New Zealand Test XI to play away from home, Fleming would be the first name on the teamsheet (ok, maybe Hadlee, his away bowling average of 21.7 goes alright, too). Given the old saying that away runs are the toughest to score in Test cricket, and factoring in the quality of bowling attacks Fleming faced throughout his career, that’s some compliment.
He was particularly at home in Asia, perhaps a sign of his post-playing career to follow, averaging 65.5 on the subcontinent from 18 Tests. That includes his masterpiece 274* in Columbo, 2003, scoring more than half his team’s total of 515/6d, in an innings where only two other New Zealand batters passed fifty. He faced 79.2 overs on his own that innings, nearly enough to merit a new ball. They would have needed one to dismiss him, as Murali delivered nearly 60 overs to go with another 29 from Vaas.
He followed that up with 69* in the third innings, seeing off another 30 overs of Murali. 343 runs undismissed for the Test, with Murali delivering nearly 90 overs. If you didn’t know better (in ODI Cricket, Fleming averaged just 18 against Sri Lanka, another statistical oddity), you’d almost say Fleming had Murali’s number, something few batters could boast. Five years earlier in Columbo, he also notched 78 and 174* to secure New Zealand’s third ever Test victory in Sri Lanka, and the first since they were new entrants to the game in the 80s, with Murali again delivering 35+ overs in both innings.
On the rare occasions Fleming did pass 100, he went big, with his three career double hundreds putting him tied with Viv Richards, Kevin Pieterson, Justin Langer, and other greats. Among these doubles, he also boasts a 262 in South Africa in 2006, taking apart a fiery attack of Ntini, Steyn, Kallis, and Nel. Even in Australia, where Fleming broadly struggled, averaging 29, he still scored an eye-catching 105 at the WACA in 2001 against McGrath, Gillespie, Lee, and Warne. Has there been a fiercer challenge in cricket history than batting at the WACA against that attack? To quote Scribe: “not many, if any.” That was during the famous 0-0 drawn series in 2001/2, which Fleming masterminded as captain more so than batter. Damien Martyn is still having nightmares about those packed point/gully fields. For years after, the commentators would go on and on in disbelief about how Fleming would target a batter’s strength until he made it their weakness. Following that series, Australia would go on to win their next seven straight and wouldn’t lose another series until the 2005 Ashes, a streak only interrupted by a drawn series thanks to Rahul Dravid’s Adelaide masterpiece, but that’s a story for another day. For that New Zealand side, avoiding a 3-0 trouncing was a mammoth effort, let alone securing a draw.
However, ask Fleming to bat in New Zealand, and it was an entirely different story. Usually, the great Test batters thrive at home and survive away. Not Fleming. To give a modern comparison, Fleming’s record is a bit like a mutated version of Ajinkya Rahane’s, who averaged 35 at home and the best part of 40 away. There have been 690 men to bat at home at least 20 times in Test cricket, and, far from the lofty heights of his away record, Fleming ranks 319th by average (33.9), right in the middle of the pack. This time, he’s keeping company with Roston Chase, Mitch Marsh, Rory Burns, and Ramiz Raja—distinctly less glamorous and storied contemporaries than Ponting, Hammond, and the like. Narrow that to just top-7 batters, and Fleming ranks 314th out of 461; far, far too low for his immense talent. As a point of interest, Spencer McGregor, a New Zealand batter from the ‘50s and ‘60s, ranks dead last, averaging just 15.2 from 13 Tests at home. He was probably just out of runs, not out of form. I’m sure he got some rip-snorters.
Fleming fares slightly better on counting stats, cracking the top-100 in terms of runs scored at home by a top-7 batter, but Kraigg Braithwaite is his only company among the top-100 with a sub-35 home average, while only Bairstow, Botham, and Nasser Hussein join him with an average of sub-40 at home.
Now, some of that can be explained away by the conditions Fleming had to bat in during that era. Calling New Zealand conditions bowler-friendly in those days would be like calling Jeff Thompson a medium pacer. New Zealand pitches still have a reputation for being green, probably due to the mental scars left on teams from this era. These days, the greenness is largely an illusion; NZ pitches typically start off spicy for the first session or two, before progressively flattening out throughout the Test. Not in those days. If you remember the 2002/03 Test series against India, where 200 was breached only once across eight innings, you’ll know what I’m talking about. If you don’t recall, let’s just say those pitches were greener than the Hulk and just as angry. This article neatly summarises what I mean, if you need a refresher.
So yes, batting in New Zealand during this era was an immense challenge, but that still doesn’t explain Fleming’s paltry home returns. Between Fleming’s career span of 1994-2008, Nathan Astle managed to average 39 at home, Craig McMillan and Mark Richardson 47 apiece, and Chris Cairns 41. All excellent players in their own right, but I don’t think any of them would claim to be as naturally gifted as Fleming, let alone good enough to be lapping him. Among away batters with at least 500 runs in NZ during that era, Herschelle Gibbs averaged 76, Chris Gayle 67, and Graeme Thorpe 65, among many others. Yes, batting in NZ was difficult, but not insurmountable, and the great players still shone through. So, why not Fleming?
Unfortunately, I don’t think there’s one neat explanation for that puzzler. No doubt if there had been, Fleming would have uncovered it, knowing his tactical and analytical aptitude. To hazard some guesses, part of it was probably the pressure of having to lead a fragile batting order, repeatedly entering the crease after a failed opening stand and having to rebuild, or swiftly running out of partners throughout an innings. Some may be down to the weight of captaincy, while more again is attributable to the conditions and constant shuffling around the order—Fleming opened in 11 innings (avg 33.3), came in at first drop in 69 innings (avg 47.3, that’s more like it), batted at number four in 82 innings (avg 36.2), and came in at number five in 22 innings (avg. 33.4). Even for the best batters, that’s disruptive. Just ask Steve Smith the opener. Clearly, batting at number three suited him best, although even that is largely down to his away numbers, averaging 35 at home at first-drop compared to 57 away.
Really, there may be no good answers; like a magic eye puzzle, the longer you stare at Fleming’s numbers, the harder they become to parse. What do you mean he scored away double hundreds against Murali and Steyn, but could barely buy a run at home? You mean to tell me the man who played that on-drive doesn’t average 70? As much as I’ve tried, Fleming’s numbers defy explanation. At a certain point, you just have to throw up your hands in exasperation and say, ‘that’s silly.’ Perhaps this is for the best, a cluttered, chaotic juxtaposition for a man whose coaching and captaincy have always seemed so clear and level-headed. There have been all kinds of cricketing archetypes throughout the sport’s storied history, but the away batting specialist meets tactical genius meets uber-reliable slipper might just be the rarest of all, equal parts fitting and frustrating for a man of Fleming’s rare, enigmatic talents.
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Great article. I'd think with Bavuma, the low conversion rate is partly explained by the vitriolic racism he's faced over the years and the pressure he's carried representing black South Africans. There's been work (in football) showing that African players played better in the COVID era compared to the pre-COVID era when there was no crowd at the pitches (https://www.journals.uchicago.edu/doi/10.1086/719967)
Thanks for this, loved the analysis. Can you imagine if Fleming had been around for the golden generation. Would he have slotted in at 4, Taylor at 5? Surely he would have had such better numbers sitting between Williamson and Taylor (or would you have the batting order as Fleming, Williamson, Taylor).