Did Bligh Steal the Ashes?

Cricket commentators enthuse about how the opening salvos of an Ashes Test set the tone for the rest of the series. If you compare Steve Harmison’s opening delivery to second slip last Thursday with his bloodying of Justin Langer in 2005, or Nasser Hussain’s decision to field first in 2002 then you get the argument. Historically, I like to see things in a wider context and observe the whole series to get not just a feel for the cricket, but also a sense of the age.

The first English cricket team to venture overseas went not to Australia, but to the Americas. In 1859, a side sailed from Liverpool to compete against teams in Canada and the US, while the first visit to Australia did not take place until two years later. It was not until 1877 that the first designated Test took place.

The visit of the Honourable Ivo Bligh at the end of 1882 is remarkable because of the mythology that surrounds the recapturing of ‘the Ashes’, and the sham that surrounded the status of the fourth Test.

The tourists landed in Australia in November, with a determination to “beard the kangaroo in his den and try to recover those Ashes”. There were originally to be two Tests in Melbourne and one in Sydney, though a later fourth Test was agreed for Sydney. The squad of twelve players included six university Blues and two other ‘scholars’, along with four professionals – Fred Morley, Dick Barlow, Billy Bates and William Barnes.

Record crowds flocked to the matches, and a series ensued in which the weather played an important role, proving a disadvantage to the losing side in each of the first three contests. The Australians won the first by a convincing nine wickets.

Bates dominated the second Test becoming the first player to take a hat-trick He was also the first to score 50 and take more than ten wickets in a match (7 wickets in each innings), seeing England home by an innings - another first.

50,000 turned out to watch England win the third Test by 69 runs. What was remarkable was that only two bowlers – Morley and Barlow – were used to send down the 69.2 overs it took to dismiss Australia for 83 in the final innings.

Bligh claimed the ‘ashes’ at a dinner following the match. Then his team travelled to Sydney for the fourth Test, which they lost to a strengthened Australian side. By all accounts then, Australia would have retained the Ashes, being that the series was drawn. Bligh disputed this saying that they belonged to England as only three Tests were on the original schedule. Yet the Melbourne Argus had published an itinerary showing four Tests, as early as January 4 (in between the first and second contests).

Bligh represented the English ruling-class, and the Australian authorities didn’t want to upset their only means of international competition. Bligh also symbolised English cricket’s wider preoccupation with the notion of leadership. The professionals carried this team, yet the right person was always considered to be more important that the ability to perform. Bligh’s contributions to the tour were 0, 3, 0, 13, 17, 19 and 10. He didn’t bowl and so didn’t warrant a place in the side.

And his team didn’t deserve the Ashes.

The Hidden Drugs Issue

Pakistan’s preparations for the Champions trophy have been anything but orthodox. Having seemingly recovered from the controversy over ball-tampering, they then lost the head of their Cricket Board and the captain, although he reinstated a day later.

The team was thrown into further turmoil by the withdrawal from their squad of their leading quick bowlers Shoaib Akhtar and Mohammad Asif for the alleged use of nandrolone, a proscribed drug that assists muscle bulk.

To some this will provide further evidence of the skulduggery inherent in Pakistani cricket. “The only thing surprising about the two Pakistan players failing drugs tests”, remarked former New Zealand wicket-keeper, Adam Parore, “is that it hasn't happened sooner”. He shared his doubts about players body shapes and their incredible ability to bowl 25 overs on a searing hot day whilst seeming to get faster.

In comparison to other sports cricket does not have a drugs problem. Most cases have involved the private recreational use of illegal substances, which can hardly be claimed to enhance performance. Yet they have led to lengthy periods out of the game for the likes of Graham Wagg and Ed Giddens. Compare this to the bravado that celebrated Freddie and the lads’ all-night drinking binge following the Ashes victory over Australia. One person’s drug maybe another’s poison, but it is clear that inconsistency and hypocrisy are frequent bedfellows.

If cricket has a drugs issue it is not pot, cocaine or even beer, but something far more menacing. Ex-England fast-bowler Angus Fraser wrote in his column in The Independent of the widespread use of anti-inflammatory or painkilling tablets taken by fast-bowlers.

Ex-captain Bob Willis had to endure ten injections in his knee on the 1974-75 tour to Australia. He still didn’t last the whole series, and spent the next winter on the dole queue. Central contracts now look after the top players in most countries, though the rewards to Pakistanis of £1500-2500 a month compare poorly to what most county cricketers can expect.

Ultimately, the fast-bowler is the proletarian element of any team, for to he lies the extremes of physical labour. To regularly thrust one’s all into the delivery of a ball at 90 MPH will inevitably have repercussions on the body. The career is short, and the rewards have to be enjoyed while they can, for they are an injury away from ineffectiveness.

I am not suggesting that cricketers have used banned drugs in order to stay fit or to speed up recovery. The use of nandrolone as an effective recovery agent is not scientifically proven. I am saying that there are intense pressures on players to maintain their fitness in the circus that has become world cricket. We have a Champions Trophy less than six months before a World Cup, and all teams will play major Test series in between. The time for recuperation is secondary to the opportunity to promote the game, play more cricket and make more money.

The bodies that run cricket create the conditions for abuse by making ever increasing physical and mental demands on players. This, if nothing else, highlights cricket’s place in the greater scheme of labour verses capital. If the 31 year-old Shoaib is served the recommended two year ban, we may not see him bowl again. Cricket will be poorer for his absence.

The Rise of the House of Tata

As England suffer in the heat at the Champions Trophy, recent events remind us that India is not just eclipsing the old country at her favoured imperial export, but is showing its muscle in the world of manufacturing as well.

The business world is rife with the rumour that Tata, the Indian multinational is to make a bid for Corus, the Anglo-Dutch concern responsible for what remains of the British steel industry.

Tata is one of the oldest business conglomerates in India, with revenues last year of £12 billion, the equivalent of about 2.8 per cent of the country’s GDP, and a market capitalisation of £25 billion. The Tata Group includes billion dollar divisions in software services, cars, hotels communications, chemicals, engineering and consumer products in a network of almost 100 operating companies.

Founded by Jamsetji Tata, known as the ‘father of Indian industry’, theirs was the country’s first Indian-owned textile mill, national airline and first integrated steel plant. They also had a big role in the development of cricket.

The Tatas were an important family within the small Parsi community that had fled Iran following religious persecution in the 6th century. Given sanctuary in India they were allowed to maintain their own customs and culture and as a result never became totally integrated. Under British rule they became useful social and economic middlemen adapting to Western occupations as they were not bound by tradition or caste laws. Furthermore, they were familiar with Indian customs and languages, and placed an emphasis on education.

During the 1840s a group of Parsis imitated British military officers playing cricket. Their enthusiasm was discouraged by an imperial order that insisted on racial segregation. Despite this, in 1848 The Oriental Cricket Club was formed. Two years later it was renamed The Zoroastrian Cricket Club, with funds from the Tata and Wadia families. They still had to wait until 1877, though, before a British team would grant them a contest.

Founded in 1887, the Tata group ranked alongside Birla as the largest business concern in India. Its association with cricket dates from the foundation of the Tata Sports Club in 1937. Following independence the Tata side dominated Bombay’s prestigious Times of India inter-office tournament, winning in nine of sixteen years. In the 1977-78 season they became the first company to boast of having two sides in the A Division.

Today Tata’s interest in cricket mirrors that of its wider commercial concerns. It employs leading players such as ex-captain Sourav Ganguly to promote products such as the ‘Sourav Fone’.

Corus is much larger than its possible suitor, ranked the world’s eighth largest producer of steel, with Tata Steel not producing enough to get into the global top 50. But this shows the ambition of a nation challenging China for dominance in the manufacturing sector.

There are obvious concerns that a takeover could result in heavy losses for the 41,000-strong European workforce, though it is doubtful that this will concern the Corus management, whose chief executive Philippe Varin stands to make up to £8.1m if the steelmaker is taken over. Varin, who has run the group for only three years, has 1.4 million shares and options in the company. Things might be changing, but when it comes to greed English capitalists can compete with the best.

An Innings of Substance

The passing of an exceptional cricketer allows us to reflect on their career as a player, but also, being that cricket is played against a historical backdrop, it permits an opportunity to assess the social circumstances in which they played sport.

Clyde Leopold Walcott was more than a mere cricketer - he spent most of his eighty years as a figurehead for the West Indies side. Walcott could do it all - he kept wicket for his first fifteen Tests, excelled with the bat, and claimed eleven Test wickets as a fast-medium change bowler. He was the first to score five centuries in a single Test series (1955 v Australia), and in an international career that spanned 12 years he averaged an impressive 56.68.

He will always be remembered as one of the ‘three W’s’ - the other two being Everton Weekes and Frank Worrell – who were born within a short distance of each other in Bridgetown, Barbados in a period of 18 months from August 1924 to January 1926. This remarkable triumvirate all made their Test cricket debut against England in 1948, and for the next ten years dominated West Indies batting.

Despite obvious leadership qualities, the West Indies captaincy remained the preserve of the white elite, and the best that Walcott achieved was the vice-captaincy in 1957.

After he finished playing he became coach, manager, administrator, president of the West Indies Cricket Board, and the first black man to chair the ICC.

His ascension replicated that of African-descendents in the Caribbean. The West Indies side was becoming increasingly democratised as a consequence of the anti-colonial movement’s inevitable progression to independence. Worrell would finally secure the captaincy of a black cricket team in 1960.

The Guyana team was traditionally recruited from among the Georgetown Cricket Club, which was the exclusive preserve of whites. Employed to coach players on the sugar plantations, Walcott helped unearth and groom players such as Rohan Kanhai, Basil Butcher and Joe Solomon. Joined by Roy Fredericks and Lance Gibbs, the Guyana cricket team advanced in unison with wider political developments.

If a consequence of race, Walcott was also a product of the nature of the class balances in the Caribbean. He was born into the black middle class, and like Worrell received an elite education. Many privileged educated blacks saw themselves as standing next in the line of the colonial pecking order.

His bourgeois background allowed him to excel in business, as the elected president of the Barbados Employers’ Federation (1978-81) and chief personnel officer and director of the Barbados Shipping and Trading Co Ltd (1980-91).

But as the Caribbean started on its bourgeois path the spectre of race was never far away, and the cricket team used this to carve their own defiant style of play. West Indian success during the 1970s and 1980s, when Walcott was selector and manager, was unprecedented.

It is a misfortune that the man who managed the West Indies to World Cup victories in 1975 and 1979 would not see the Caribbean hosting the tournament in 2007. He must have despaired at the decline of the team to which he gave so much, though he maintained a diplomatic public silence on the calamity. As the commentator Tony Cozier concluded in his obituary, his legacy deserved better.

Oval cricket fiasco: Pakistan have cause to complain

Oval cricket fiasco: Pakistan have cause to complain Socialist Worker

 

South Africa abandons tour of Sri Lanka

BBC SPORT | Cricket | SA quit Sri Lanka after bombing

In Praise of Twenty20

For most cricket fans the Test match is the truest form of the sport, and the one-day contest a mere variant. The one-day game embodies the worst excess of commercialism, with a plethora of meaningless contests, played with a priority to fill bank balances.

Logos dominate players’ shirts and equipment, the boundary edge, the umpires’ clothing, the competition they play for and even the hallowed turf. It is distressing but the 50-overs game has become at best predictable and stale, and at worst irrelevant. Strategies such as the floating power-play and the use of substitutions are designed to breathe new life so that the cash cow can continue to be milked.

The best innovation of late has been the Twenty20 competition, although I must declare an interest here. Being a supporter of Leicestershire is fraught with disappointment in all contests bar this one, where they are champions for the second time. This partisanship, however, does not cloud my view of this new format. I see it as one that can be a saviour for the domestic game and finally take international cricket beyond the so-called elite of eight teams.

The idea of the Twenty20 is to provide a contest that would last for about three hours in the early evening, so that it could be enjoyed by workers. In this way the format will be familiar to the club cricketer who plays in the midweek leagues.

Its popularity has staggered even the most optimistic of supporters. Aggregate crowds have grown year on year, and grounds such as Lord’s have sold out. Worcestershire's experience is typical. Whereas an average of 1,600 attended their matches in the old 50 overs competition, over 8,000 have attended their Twenty20 home games. Graham Gooch revealed on Test Match Special last week that one home Twenty20 game brought in the same revenue for Essex as three years worth of gate receipts for the County Championship.

Pleasingly, cricket is appealing to a newer audience. Research has shown that two-thirds of the first year’s attendees were under 34 and a quarter female. When Glamorgan qualified for the quarter-final in 2004, 80% of its ground was made up of non-members.

The format’s success has seen an international in Australia, against South Africa, attracting a record crowd of 38,894 to the Gabba. Domestic tournaments have started up in most of the major-playing countries, while a final in Pakistan last year attracted 35,000 spectators.

The shorter game proves a great leveller, and is cricket’s best opportunity to become global. Countries such as Bermuda, Malaysia, Thailand, and the United Arab Emirates have all expressed an interest in staging international tournaments. In the recent event in the Caribbean, both Nevis and Grenada made unlikely semi-finalists, then there is the unfashionable and relatively hard-up Leicester, who have made finals day each year.

The complaints about technique and the inability to build an innings, both to the ultimate detriment of Test cricket, have been made before, and the evidence has proved them wrong. Test cricket in this country is more popular today than it has been for a while, and maybe the Twenty20 will bring new fans and wanabee stars to the sport.

The one sticking-point is India, where the one-day contest generates huge profits for the Board. A shorter game reduces the breaks between innings and wickets and therefore the potential for advertising revenue, upsetting the forces of commercialism. What better reason to give this format your support?

South Africa - Racism rears its ugly head again

http://content-uk.cricinfo.com/southafrica/content/current/story/256329.html

Johnny Mullagh - Australia's first All-Rounder

August 13 marks the birthdate, 165 years ago, of Australia’s first great all-rounder, Johnny Mullagh, whose real name, Unaarrimin, provides a reason why he is not talked about with the same adulation as other past Australian cricketers such as Spofforth, Trumper and Bradman. For Unaarrimin was an Aborigine plying his trade in a racist Australia.

Born in 1841 on Mullagh Station about 10 miles north of Harrow, Victoria, he learned to play cricket whilst working on the adjoining Pine Hills agricultural station. He was given the name ‘black Johnny’, so as to distinguish him from a ‘white Johnny’.

It was obvious that Unaarrimin was a remarkable cricketer, and he was chosen for the first Australian side to tour England in 1868. These tourists were made up of members of the indigenous population led by the Englishman Charles Lawrence. Unaarrimin was given the name ‘Mullagh’ to identify him with his place of birth.

Unaarrimin’s tour statistics make impressive reading. He played in 47 matches, batted in 71 innings and hit 1698 runs at an average of 23, and was considered the equal of any English batter. He also bowled 1877 overs, 831 of which were maidens, and took 245 wickets at 10 apiece. If this wasn’t enough, he would occasionally don the wicket-keeping gloves and had four stumpings to his name. Few cricketers better merited the title of all-rounder.

Nineteenth century Australia witnessed an onslaught against indigenous peoples. Many of those chosen to tour England were left to obscure futures and early deaths. One Player, King Cole, died on the trip and of those who returned, seven spent time on a reserve, two vanished, and two cannot be counted for. Measures were introduced to ‘protect’ the indigenous population from the exploits of white society, but these only aided their social isolation. Protection, in reality, meant controlling their movements, who they married, what they read, their religious rituals and their sporting activities.

Unaarrimin was both an independent individual and a passionate advocate of indigenous rights, and he refused to live on the state-controlled reserves. His politics was revealed during a game at Apsley, when as the players went to lunch somebody asked “what about the nigger?” The captain replied, “let him have his dinner in the kitchen. Anything is good enough for the nigger”. Unaarrimin refused to eat in the kitchen, and sat outside the hotel in protest.

Unaarrimin never appeared in intercolonial cricket, although he did represent Victoria against a touring England side in 1879, top scoring with 36 in the second innings. He was then 38 years old, and instead of going in first wicket-down, as he did for his club, he batted nine and ten.

Maintaining his independence and dignity to the end, Unaarrimin spent his last days living in a rabbitter’s shack, but continued to play cricket until a few months before his death in 1891, the day after his 50th birthday. The Hamilton Spectator described him in his obituary as ‘“the Grace” of aboriginal cricketers’.

Australia’s treatment of its indigenous people is one of the great untold blots on colonialism. That some maybe willing to come to terms with what was attempted genocide is shown by a memorial built to honour Unaarrimin, and a local indigenous tournament for the Johnny Mullagh Memorial Trophy. His fame came too late, but for what he stood for and how he played, a light will always shine for this remarkable cricketer.

Whose Side are you On?

“Everyone keeps asking me who I’ll be supporting”, said Sajid Mahmood’s father Shahid, on the eve of the last Test. “I’m in a great situation. Pakistan is our country and England is our country”. That he was asked suggests that the Tebbit test is still considered relevant for Muslims.

You will recall that the Tebbit test questioned the loyalty of migrants, claiming that they could only be properly integrated when they are supporting England at cricket. The question of loyalty is raised at a time of increasing marginalisation of Muslim communities and it is made all the more poignant with a government standing alone with the US in its support for Israeli terrorism in southern Lebanon.

The marginalisation is exacerbated by the rise in Islamophobia that followed the attacks on the twin towers and the London bombings of last year. But this was a catalyst, as there has long been suspicion of a culture that is little understood and refuses to bend to western influence.

The real basis of alienation is brought out through figures that show 60 per cent of Muslim households with the main breadwinner on a low income, the least likely group to own their own property, and an unemployment rate of 13 per cent, three times the national average. Combine these economic indicators with the massive increase in police stop and searches of Asians and a picture emerges of a community that has every right to feel excluded.

The Cantle report on the underlying causes of disturbances between Asian and white youths in Burnley, Bradford and Oldham in 2001 spoke of the depth of polarisation in the inner cities. Physical segregation is compounded by separate education, employment, places of worship, languages and social and cultural networks. “It means that communities operate on a series of parallel lives. They do not seem to touch at any point, let alone overlap and promote any meaningful interchange,” Cantle concluded.

This cultural separatism has been reflected in local cricket leagues. Research has shown that ethnic minorities prefer to organise their own games and leagues. The Yorkshire Quaid-I-Azam League, for example, is named after the domestic tournament in Pakistan. An all-Asian league was established in Bradford in 1983 and more recently an Inter-Island Amateur Cricket Cup, a Clive Lloyd Cup and a Sri Lankan League have been established in London.

Surely though, we should not feel threatened by people who chose to support another team than England. What makes the football World Cup the carnival and festival that it has become is the number of different sides that are followed in this country. Would we really expect ex-pats in Australia to follow anyone but England?

Maybe we have to consider why second and third-generation British-Asians are following the teams of their parents’ homeland. With the reality of racist abuse and the lack of encouragement for joining cricket teams it is a question of inclusion: why support a country that doesn’t want me? A. Sivanandan, director of the institute of Race Relations believes this is ingrained in cricket’s establishment: “It’s institutionalised racism. The smell of imperialism is in your nostrils all the time,” he said.

Cricket has the ability to bring people together on the field of play in a cultural setting. What it cannot do is eradicate the social and economic conditions that lead to marginalisation. This role requires political will and education, something we all should agree on.

Are Pakistan the new Australia?

Forget the winter encounter with Australia. The hardest cricket England will be playing over the next twelve months is upon them now. My reasoning is that Pakistan can stake a claim to being the number one Test side in the world, based both on the merits of the players and an examination of recent results.

Their openers, 21 year-old Salman Butt and 24 year-old Shoaib Malik, benefit from being a right-left handed combination, and will gain from the experience of playing at this level. Malik also doubles up as an off-break bowler with 162 first-class wickets.

There is no middle-order that can rank with Younis Khan, Mohammad Yousuf and Inzamam-ul-Haq, who are seventh, fifth and third respectively in the ICC world rankings. Younis Khan returns from injury for today’s Test, hoping to build on the five hundreds he has scored in his last 11 internationals.

In Shahid Afridi and Abdul Razzaq Pakistan have two destructive all-rounders, who can turn games with either bat or ball. Wicket-keeper Kamran Akmal is Adam Gilchrist’s heir apparent, and could come in at number 8. Akmal scored 154 to set up Pakistan’s victory in the third Test against England in the winter, followed by two centuries in the one-day series.

If all this is still not convincing, Pakistan have an array of bowling talent, ranging from the explosive Shoaib Akhtar, to the youngsters Mohammad Sami, Umar Gul and Mohammad Asif, all under 25 years and equipped to dominate batsmen to come. Throw in the leg-spinner Danish Kaneria, and this unit is not far from complete, especially when you consider the role of the all-rounders as well.

Pakistan come to England having not lost a Test series here since 1982. A number of their players have familiarised themselves with English conditions through membership of county sides, and they also exude a unity that was absent in previous teams. This has been attributed to the increasing influence of Islam within the side, but is also due to the lack of big names that dominated and intimidated past sides. Pakistani cricket has shaken off its elitist past, and cricketers now come from all walks of life.

Pakistan is a poor country and this is reflected in its cricket, the majority of which is played using a tape ball, which is similar to a tennis ball and covered in tape to maintain pace off the surface and sharp bounce. Rashid Latif, the former Pakistan wicketkeeper and captain, claims that 70% of all cricket is now tape ball. Mohammad Sami learned reverse-swing with a tape ball, and Umar Gul did not play with a cricket ball until he was 16.

Let’s not pretend, though, that this is a side without any faults. For a start not all of the above players are here, as Pakistan are carrying as many injuries as England. The real weak areas are those that come from the deficient domestic set up, which lacks structure and organisation. They are shown in a decline in the basics, such as fielding, running between the wickets, backing up and playing away from the body.

Pakistan may lack the discipline and intensity of the Australians, but on paper this young team has the players to give any side a contest. Having recently beaten England and India at home and Sri Lanka away, any claims to greatness are made on a solid foundation.

The Fire Burns Out - Fred Trueman obituary

The Fire Burns Out

Tributes have been pouring in to honour ‘Fiery’ Fred Trueman, the England and Yorkshire cricket legend who died last week aged 75 following a short battle with lung cancer. Trueman, often called England’s greatest fast bowler, took 2,302 first class wickets (including four hat tricks) at an average of 18.27 and 307 Test wickets at an average of 21.54. His first class career spanned an incredible twenty years (1949–1969).

Trueman was born at Scotch Springs, Stainton, to the east of Rotherham and near the Maltby Main colliery, where his father Allan, a keen cricketer himself, was a miner.

At 14, he started playing club cricket, at 15 became an apprentice bricklayer, and at 16 joined the cricket club Sheffield United. An invitation to play for Yorkshire Boys followed, and in 1949, at 18, he made eight county appearances. At 21 he was representing England, and well on the way to becoming the nation’s leading wicket-taker.

Underlying his great talent was an enormous confidence in his own ability. He published three autobiographies in 1961, 1965 and 1976, and suggested to John Arlott that his biography should be called ‘The definitive story of the finest fast bowler that ever drew breath’. Arlott settled for ‘Fred’.

He was a opinionated figure which did not endear him with the authorities. This ‘professional northerner’ resented ‘posh sods who had come straight from university into a county side and never done a real day’s work in their lives’. In Australia on tour with England during the winter of 1962-3 he told the Duke of Norfolk that he would be addressed as ‘Fred’ or as ‘Mr Trueman’, but not by his surname alone. He also complained that England sides were not chosen on ability alone, but that some players were picked because they were a gentleman and a decent chap.

After retiring from the game, Trueman enjoyed a successful broadcasting career as a cricket commentator, where his judgements were expressed in catchphrases such as ‘in my day’ and ‘I don’t know what’s going off out there’, in which he reminded listeners of how much harder it was when he played. The writer Stephen Wagg suggests this maybe down to his working class roots. Trueman felt guilty about escaping from the world of physical toil, and so presented cricket as hard graft.

Despite his brushes with authority, Trueman was a rebel only to himself. He was the classic working class deferential voter who always supported the Conservative Party. In Don Mosey’s biography, he reveals on the very first page his subject’s loathing for Arthur Scargill, the leader of the National Union of Mineworkers. Trueman was often heard to use language that breached common decency, and he also supported the racist Cricket Union in South Africa, featuring on their promotional videos.

There are many myths that surround this legendry cricketer. Some tributes have bordered on the ridiculous. According to former England captain Mike Gatting “he never bowled a bad ball.” Trueman was renowned for his action and technique as a bowler, but his control was occasionally wayward.

His claims that the game was tougher ‘in my day’ defy logic. The training facilities, coaching and diet are so superior in the current game. The gruff Trueman represented a nostalgic perception of a better time that existed in his head. At best he was a contradiction. At worst, a throwback reactionary, and a bit of a joke.

The National Pastime

Sri Lanka’s role in the English season has been fulfilled and, whilst many were anticipating a warm-up for the Pakistan series, they leave with England in complete disarray. The one-day game appears devoid of strategy and confidence and the bowling suddenly seems very thin.

To coincide with the Sri Lankan tour the academic Michael Roberts has issued a booklet charting the key events in the island’s cricketing history. Forces and Strands in Sri Lanka’s Cricket History (Social Scientists’ Association) starts by telling us that cricket is the one game in Sri Lanka that has penetrated the world stage in a consistent fashion. As the national pastime for a large section of the population its purpose is beyond the mere aesthetics of leather on willow.

Roberts weaves into this history politics and sociology, leaving his reader not only more enlightened as to the history of cricket on this island, but knowing more about the social forces that have influenced Sri Lanka itself.

Cricket was introduced into Ceylon, as the island was formerly called, by an imperial machine that had taken over the island in 1795-6 and later in 1815-18. The first recorded game in 1832 featured members of the armed forces and a gentleman’s club. These class links were maintained through elite educational institutions.

Roberts identifies the Malays and the Burghers as the two groups that sustained early cricket within the local population. Both owed their residence to the consequences of imperialism. The Malays had served in the Dutch armies in the eighteenth century, and had become incorporated into the Ceylon Rifle regiment in 1827. The Burghers are believed to have been the descendents of the Portuguese, the Dutch and Europeans serving the Dutch East Indian Company. It was hoped that these communities would be immersed in western values and provide a bridge between east and west.

Roberts employs lists throughout to review a range of developments. The key developments between 1948 and 2000, for example, are neatly summarised as six points which take into account Sinhalese broadcasts in the 1960s, the emergence of television, gaining Test status in 1981, the expansion of facilities, widening opportunities and the victory in the World Cup.

The island’s greatest cricketing moment is explored in both its sporting and political contexts. The Tamil Tigers detonated a bomb outside the Central Bank on February 4, to coincide with Independence Day celebrations, which for Tamils is a mark of their oppression. This led to Australia and the West Indies forfeiting rather than carrying out their obligations to play in Sri Lanka. This in turn distributed the top teams over the final stages of the tournament in a way that favoured Sri Lanka. Roberts then provides another list to provide the cricketing factors that explain why Sri Lanka were victorious, principally the way the batters attacked at the start and the deployment of four spinners to exploit subcontinent conditions.

The booklet concludes with a consideration of the forces of social change. Roberts warns of the role of Sinhala nationalism in creating disharmony within Sri Lankan society, which will ultimately affect its cricket. Very few Tamils, with the notable exception of Murali, play first-class cricket. Chief among the nationalist hardliners is former captain, Arjuna Ranatunga, who follows his father as an MP. As a member of the right-wing Patriotic Front, Roberts predicts that Ranatunga is supporting a line that could lead Sri Lanka back into civil war.

As a cricket writer Roberts chronicles, analyses and provides insights. His platform is the article and the essay. He suggests in his introduction that an account of the seamier side of cricket politics is beyond the scope of a single historian. I’m not sure I agree. With his passion for the island, and cricket – displayed in this booklet through an array of illuminating photographs – there is only one person to provide the comprehensive history of Sri Lankan cricket.

1966 World Cup Success

Images of Bobby Moore and Geoff Hurst are embedded on the consciousness of all sports fans despite this being the fortieth year since England conquered all in the World Cup. I predicted last week that cricket would struggle to compete against the football festival in Germany. As I walked around Bath on Thursday evening searching for a pub that would be showing the England vs. Sri Lanka Twenty20 contest, my worst fears were confirmed. Wall-to-wall Sweden vs. Paraguay was all that was on offer.

As well as sport’s biggest global competition, England also hosted the first world tournament in limited-overs cricket in 1966. The 1912 triangular tournament featuring Australia, England and South Africa was the first ever competition featuring three teams, but was of the longer format. The 1966 version was also a threesome, with a World XI joining the touring West Indians to meet up at the end of the season for a round-robin contest at Lord’s.

The tournament was sponsored by Rothmans cigarettes, who had already associated themselves with one-day cricket by supporting travelling International Cavaliers contests against County sides on a Sunday, and was billed as the World Cup.

The competition took place against the backdrop of discussion about how to make cricket appeal to a wider public. Falling attendances at county matches was causing serious concern. In 1947, the number who paid for admission totalled two million, but within a decade that number had dropped to 1,200,000 and by 1966 to just over 500,000. The then Times cricket correspondent bemoaned the lack of variety, skill and inventive captaincy on offer at the average cricket match.

The England team was experiencing one of its too-regular cyclical downturns. In 18 home Tests against West Indies, Australia and South Africa, over the previous four years, England had won only twice, and for the first time on record, in 1966 had three captains in the same season, MJK Smith, Colin Cowdrey and Brian Close.

Desperate times allow for innovation, and if cricket was to compete with football, it had to offer something to the millions basking in the success of the shorter and easier to play game. That would be the one-day contest.

England won the 1966 World Cup by winning both of their games. Each of their players was rewarded with £100 in prize money. Interest though was patchy and three days of cricket featuring a wealth of world talent only persuaded 13,000 to pay at the turnstiles. And although the series was covered by the BBC, it had to share airtime with the racing from Goodwood.

The competition was repeated the following year, but came to an end once John Player moved onto scene to support the newly established one-day Sunday League. John Player would only plough their funds into cricket if they were guaranteed television coverage. The BBC was happy with showing the star-studded Cavaliers games, so the TCCB banned their players from competing in them.

MJK Smith spoke of how the players enjoyed playing the one-day game, and that they were enthusiastic for it to continue. Forty years on and we can point to these developments, which were possibly a consequence of the football tournament, as the advent of commercialism in cricket. England’s inability to master the subtleties of the one-day format may mean that the 1966 World Cup may be their last for some time.

Contrasting World Cups

The World Cup has started, and for a month the rest of the sporting world struggles for the crumbs of coverage that football allows it. The nation maybe absorbed by the state of Wayne Rooney’s foot, but for the Morning Star reader looking for something a little deeper when following sport, there are the great clashes, where politics is played out by twenty-two footballers on an level playing field. Consider, for example, the rare opportunity that Angola had to take on the old colonial-masters Portugal. And whilst the draw makes it unlikely, the US playing Iran would be some prospect.

The World Cup is the biggest global sporting event. Up until the latter stages of the nineteenth century, though, cricket was the most popular spectator sport in England. By the century’s close it had been surpassed by football. In a familiar story, cricket had failed to adapt to society’s changing conditions and became increasingly associated with exclusiveness.

When the trade unions won the half-day on Saturday many workers took up playing and watching sport. But it was to football rather than cricket that the majority turned. Workers didn’t go to sporting events for quiet and decorum but to support their local side. Football gave them the opportunity to do this vocally, cricket did not.

The Test series against Pakistan begins after the final of the World Cup. The one-day internationals will be up against the football. Some may argue that this is the only format in which cricket can compete, and I’m sure that all the games will be played in front of capacity crowds.

Yet, in contrast with football, I don’t believe that the England team knows which direction it is heading. Injuries have deprived them of at least five players who would be considered as starters in next March’s cricket World Cup and a further six have been dropped from the squad who lost heavily to India earlier this year. Six newcomers have never played international one-day cricket, and Tim Bresnan and Glen Chapple took all but the clairvoyant by surprise.

England’s Four-Year Plan to win the World Cup has been redrafted more times than David Cameron’s thesis on modern-day Conservatism. This suggests that the one-day game is the inferior cousin of the Test match. I have no problem with this, except that the World Cup does provide the spotlight that cricket needs as it competes with the Premiership’s millions. An English early exit, unlike the tournament in Germany, will lead to a lack of interest.

Then there is the format of the World Cup. Football’s version has teams from every continent, and whilst we can predict the handful from which the winner will emerge, it is fascinating to watch the different styles and frequent surprises. Cricket’s version is all about witling the numbers down to the eight teams who have the resources to play professional cricket on a full-time basis. The ICC includes over 100 members representing all continents. A truly world event would raise cricket’s profile. This will not happen under the current format that rewards the strong over the weak. A level-playing playing field makes sport more interesting. The football World Cup in Japan and South Korea in 2002 threw out the form-book and made every game unpredictable. The Twenty20 format could do the same for cricket.