It is the day after midsummer, sweet and balmy at nine o’clock, the sun still up, and Alexandra Park, Manchester, is fizzing with life. A group of energetic twentysomethings slam a volleyball over the nets as a flock of parakeets settle in the trees.
On the many paths, people wander around and about: a man walks three nippy chihuahuas, a little girl in a flowery dress wobbles past on her bike with stabilisers, her parents running behind shouting encouragement, while a group of young women in headscarves sit on the swings in the children’s playground and chat. On a picnic bench by the lake, a man is charging people to play chess. Not far away, a young boy pulls crumbs out of his pockets to feed the ducks.
But on the near side of the park, one thing is dominating. Close to the pavilion, a large group of people are playing, or watching, or practising or standing or talking about cricket, all members of the Friends Sporting Club. “We were eight or 10 people from the same community back home in Kerala [in India],” the chairman, Ramki, says. “We got to know each other because our wives are nurses and we used to play cricket together, starting in 2005 on an Astroturf pitch here in the park.”
After a couple of years, the council dug up the pitch because it became unusable, so the friends, left with nowhere to play, travelled all over the country to try their luck in limited-over competitions, largely with other Keralans, winning many of them. But they had ambitions about playing in a proper league, not, as Ramki describes it, “this slam-bam cricket”.
“Thankfully, the ECB and the council together put £1.2m into the ground, the pavilion and the cafe and we were one of the first bidders for the park’s usage,” he says. “We entered the GMC league with just one team, but are now at a stage where we can have three.”
Cricket seems to take up most of Ramki’s time, when he’s not at work as a member of the financial team at the Red Cross, changing his hours so he could ferry junior colts to matches. “It is the under-15s on a Monday, Tuesday off, Wednesday is the under-18s or under-11s, Thursday and Friday are training, Saturday morning is the All Stars, Saturday afternoon I umpire the senior game, on Sunday morning I take the under-13s to a game and on Sunday afternoon I go to a game as a scorer, player and umpire, whatever is needed. My wife has given up on me.”
Two of his juniors, left-handed opener Felix and fast bowler Noel, are practising having just finished their GCSEs. Felix was one of the first intake of juniors, while Noel joined in year seven. “We are here almost every week in the cricket season,” says Noel. “There is a strong community, a good sense of friendship and there is an opportunity to socialise. It is very important to us, like a break from everything.”
Two-and-a-half weeks later, while spectators drift incredulously out of Headingley, a group of young men are playing an energetic game with a soft ball in a corner of Wheatsheaf Common, Woking, more than 200 miles south. Tareque Adil came to the UK from Bangladesh as a student aged 21; now 34 he is settled with a wife and two children, working in a care home for people with learning difficulties.
“We’ve been playing in this park for 12 years, every Sunday. Lots of players come and join us, most of the people here are from Bangladesh but sometimes the Pakistani and Indian people play, too.
“We love cricket, in Bangladesh there are not many resources. We play in the road, on the roof, probably 30ft by 30ft and if the ball flies off the roof you are out. This is not only a game to us, it is inside us, it is our soul. We love it so much, we find peace in it. In our country, people use it as a medicine.”
Adil coaches a number of young people and his dream is for their success. “If I can get one of my people to the next level, at county cricket or to national cricket, that would be amazing.”
Despite the failings of English cricket, laid bare in stark detail in the ICEC report, it manages to survive and flourish, miles away from the Long Room, the Western Terrace, expensive ticket prices and corporate sponsorship. People who love the game somehow find space to come together and play, with or without the structure of the club game. If English cricket can properly embrace that grassroots love, it will be stronger than it can imagine.
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