The sporting world loves nothing more than a headline-grabbing David and Goliath story, with a valiant team of plucky underdogs claiming a last-gasp, against-the-odds victory, to the unbounded joy and rapturous celebrations of their ecstatic supporters. Such an event occurred only recently, in cricket’s T20 World Cup, when brave minnows the United States pulled off a shock victory against mighty Pakistan. Hang on a minute! David and Goliath? Plucky underdogs? Brave minnows? This is the United States of America we’re talking about, a nation not generally regarded as underdogs in anything, let alone sport.
Surprisingly, perhaps, America does have a long cricketing history. British colonists imported the game, among other necessities, to North America in the early eighteenth century. A New York newspaper of 1739 included an advert for cricket players, and the first documented competition was in Manhattan in 1751. Matches were played on pitches as diverse as slave plantations and manicured college lawns, before the Civil War, between 1861 and 1865, put a temporary end to most organised sport – and to slavery for good. There is a theory that baseball, which started as a knockabout game during the 1840s and 1850s, began its journey to becoming America’s national sport during the Civil War, as it was easily set up and played on any patch of scrubland by soldiers desperate for a temporary diversion from the horrors of the battlefield.
But cricket remained the game of young American gentlemen. In 1881 the Intercollegiate Cricket Association was formed, and in 1883 Pennsylvania’s Haverford College started the first cricket club exclusively for Americans. By the end of the century, the USA had played Canada in an international match and students from top American universities were waging sporting battles with counterparts from Oxford and Cambridge – and winning. The sport has been around Stateside ever since, mainly in the north-east; and as the victory against Pakistan indicates, it is increasing in popularity over there and around the world.
Mostly, though, this is not cricket as we knew it, with two-innings-a-side three- or four-day matches at first class level, and five-day international Test matches. In the past twenty years cricket has, arguably, changed more than any other mainstream sport, and could now be regarded as multiple sports, the remaining common denominators being a bat, a ball and three stumps at either end of the pitch. Many, including me, still prefer the original version. My county side is Essex, though it’s been many years since I lived there. But as in most sports, the team you first support is the one that’s with you for life.
Mostly, though, this is not cricket as we knew it
I recall glorious times in the Sixties when Essex played a percentage of their “home” matches at small grounds around the county. I would spend long summer days watching my cricketing heroes at the Romford ground, which still sits next to Gallows Corner roundabout, where the A12 meets Eastern Avenue. I always took the same mid-wicket position behind the boundary rope, with scorecard and pencil in hands, and duffel bag (containing boiled-egg sandwiches wrapped in greaseproof paper, a bottle of warm lemonade and a bar of softening chocolate) nearby. It was bliss, no phones buzzing or ringing; even the nearby traffic noise melted away, like my chocolate.
I noted every ball and every run. A boundary shot or a wicket received polite applause. There may have been the odd “Oh, good shot” but never raucous cheers or endless, boring chanting. A maiden over (I understand the term remains acceptable), with no runs scored, was met with nods of appreciation, rather than shouts of “Oh, get on with it!’ as the tactical skirmish between batter and bowler was played out.
Single-innings games came to top-flight cricket at that time, with formats flitting between 65 and 40 overs a side, resulting in the Gillette Cup and the Sunday League. But it was still cricket as we had known it – sort of – with matches lasting the best part of a day. One-day internationals followed, with the first match played in Melbourne between Australia and England, when Aussie legend Sir Don Bradman told the 46,000 crowd: “You have seen history made.” He was right, but history has moved at such a furious pace since the start of the 21st century that even The Don would struggle to recognise some versions of “cricket” today.
On the positive side, the sport is now played at the top level as much by women as by men. But the variations of the game, with fewer overs or balls delivered and each with different rules, can be mindboggling. T20, T10, the Hundred. Dramatic features such as Powerplays and Super Overs. The competitions get bigger and the billing bigger still. The Big Bash, the Blast, the Slam, the Super Slam! And why? Sponsorship, television rights and advertising revenue mean mega money for all involved.
Cricket will feature in the 2028 Los Angeles Olympics, ironically alongside baseball. However, and keep this quiet, I’ve come up with an overlooked version of the game, which I realise will finally make my fortune if I get in quickly. French cricket! Remember? We all played it. Kids, mums and dads, grandparents. It’s so simple, we don’t even need stumps. My version will be eleven-a-side, with a bat and a proper cricket ball, so that also means pads. But that’s it! That’s all! Result! I’m on to a winner at last!
Robert Rigby is a journalist, author, scriptwriter
