Tim Bresnan’s 2007 season saw 34 wickets at an average of 32, accompanied by two hundreds and a batting average of 39. His understated 2008 season saw 45 wickets at 28 and 506 runs at 33.
It’s solid stuff. He’s an asset to Yorkshire, but he’s not at the stage where you can just say his surname when he’s about to bat or bowl and convey a whole range of hopes and expectation through doing so.
If you said ‘Bresnan’ to someone, what would they think? Would they rush to the nearest TV in expectation of cricketing fireworks, or would they look at you quizzically anticipating elaboration. Maybe if you happen to have addressed someone whose surname is Bresnan, they’ll say ‘yes?’, but more likely you’ll need to add a few words.
In the unlikely event that you do know a Bresnan and felt moved to address them regarding Tim Bresnan and what he might imminently achieve on a cricket field, you’d probably anticipate this confusion and allow for it, so again you’d need additional words.
If you were discussing the merits of Yorkshire cricketers, you could easily find yourself in a situation where you could respond to a question using the single word ‘Bresnan’ and it would be understood, but the context’s already been created there, so that doesn’t count.
Tim Bresnan should aim to make the use of the word ‘Bresnan’ create context and meaning on its own, possibly when allied to an urgent looking facial expression. If we walk into the bar at a county ground during a match and say ‘Bresnan’ to everyone in there, we’d like to see everyone clear out to go and see what’s going on.
Review of today’s update: Rambling and largely pointless. 2/10.