On 11 June 1890 a column of three hundred colonialists crossed the Shashe River to begin the annexation of Mashonaland on behalf of Cecil Rhodes’ British South Africa Company. They brought cattle, horses and wagons, rifles, revolvers and field guns, a searchlight, a steam engine, tents, food and water. Each man carried a slouch hat, a spare shirt and pair of socks, a water bottle, a sewing kit, a belt, a bandolier, a hundred rounds of ammunition and a hand axe. And, of course, this being a very English endeavour, in among it all someone packed a bat and ball.
So the first game of cricket in what would become Zimbabwe was played just over a month later, on 16 August, between the Pioneer Column’s A Troop and B and C Troops, on a patch of land at Providential Pass at what would become Fort Victoria. Nobody knows who won. “Probably A Troop,” wrote one of the players in his memoirs 50 years later, since they had Monty Bowden, the England captain and Surrey wicketkeeper, playing for them. Within five years, the settlers were organising games between Bulawayo and Salisbury and within a decade, they had formed the Rhodesian Cricket Union.
It is the best testament to it that it survived – and thrived – despite being the colonialists’ sport. Today Zimbabwe are, as the mayor of Bulawayo, David Coltart, told the Guardian this week, “a passionately multiracial team” and their cricket “a wonderful projection of our country”.
This one, too. England took this game to the world and one of the great pleasures of following it is in watching the world bring it back to England. Zimbabwe are not a great cricket team, but they are a great cricket country and, after that painful first day, when their faltering bowling attack was flogged all around Trent Bridge by England’s patrician batters they have, in their way, taken over the rest of the Test by turning it into one long demonstration of their bloody-minded pride in the way they play the game.
It was there in Brian Bennett’s bullish century on the second day and the way he forced Ben Stokes to withdraw his slips. It was there again in the way Sean Williams set about England’s bowling during the 88 he made on the third morning.
The 38-year-old Williams won his first call-up to this team way back in 2004, as under-19s captain. His career was just coming together at the time Zimbabwean cricket was falling apart and here he was, 21 years later, playing his first, and most likely his last, Test in this country. It was a hell of an innings, full of crisp cuts, punishing pulls and swingeing sweeps. Williams is a fine batter, with a Test average of 44, and he played like a man who wanted to take his last chance to make the point.
The pride was there all around the ground, too. The Zimbabwe fans got louder as the game went on. They seemed to come in greater numbers every day and gave up their seats to seek each other out in the stands so they could dance, sing and chant in Shona: “Zimbabwe! Mai-Mwana!”
There are around 125,000 people in the Zimbabwean diaspora in Britain and a good number of them must have been here in Nottingham this week, in what felt like a happy refutation of Norman Tebbit’s old idea that you can measure the strength of a migrant’s love for their new country by whether or not they are cheering for it.
“It’s the love of the game that binds everyone here together, not which side they’re cheering for,” one of their cheerleaders told me. When it was all over, and Zimbabwe had lost by an innings and 45 runs, the team took a slow lap around the ground to thank the fans for all the support.
It was one of those defeats that somehow still contained plenty to celebrate and a reminder that Test cricket is not only about who wins and loses and that the value of a game played over multiple days is not just in the finish but what happens along the way.
It has been 22 years since England’s men played Zimbabwe in a Test and there are people in the sport who would be happy enough if it were 22 more before England played them again. The England and Wales Cricket Board paid Zimbabwe for this fixture, which was arranged to fill an empty slot in the its broadcast deal.
There is a lot of talk about splitting Test cricket into two separate divisions. Let the men who run the game have their way and cricket will turn into an endless summer of T20 contests between franchise teams, with Test cricket reduced to a sideshow, with series between England, India and Australia. Maybe the game would be wealthier that way, but not nearly so much so as it would be poorer for it, too.
