ACCESS ALL AREAS
RICHARD CLARKE
AKA The Grumbler
RICHARD CLARKE SAYS ENGLISH CRICKET NEEDS TO GET ENGAGED
Everything we’ve done up until now isn’t going to stop because we haven’t managed to win the urn back,” said Ben Stokes to the England dressing room after the rain-soaked draw at Old Trafford in 2023 that cost his side the chance of recovering the Ashes.
“The reward for our work isn’t what we get but what we become. And what we have managed to do is we’ve managed to become a sports team that will live forever in the memory of people who were lucky enough to witness us play cricket.”
Yes, Stokes was speaking directly to his team after a tough result. It was captured on the ECB’s YouTube series ‘Ashes 2023 | Our Take’ and the quote was gleefully cherry-picked by an Australian media happy to paint the Poms as puffed-up poseurs.
But “lucky”?
That word stuck in the gullet of many fans and they vented their fury on social media
Lucky to pay £160 to see a day of Test cricket at Lord’s? Or £80 per month for the satellite channels necessary to see the games on television? Lucky to see the players’ increasing wage demands dictate the path of professional cricket in this country?
For me, Stokes has this back to front.
But let us not hammer the Durham all-rounder for a stray word in a private setting. He is one of the good guys and certainly among English cricket’s precious few bar-clearing heroes. And, even if the results against the major sides have been broadly the same, Bazball is glorious entertainment. The skipper is right, they have created wonderful memories but, at the same time, this unguarded moment supports the growing concern that Team England inhabits a bubble. Akingdom over which they reign, where only positivity can exist and the sole analysis worthy of consideration is their own.
This is a sterile environment. A clean, corporate, media-managed world in which everyone is kept at arm’s length. Especially those lucky, lucky fans who pay through the nose.
Compare that to The Oval at 11am on Monday where groups of schoolchildren in bright PE clothing filled the stands for an endof-term day out. The shrill of their enthusiastic voices punctuated the usual grey-haired hubbub of a weekday Championship game. They cheered when the ball came remotely near them and created a crescendo of noise as the bowlers ran in. At one point they tried to start a Mexican Wave.
Though some in the game may have given up, this is the demographic that red-ball cricket desperately wants to reach and, on this otherwise mundane Monday, they were leaning over the hoardings beseeching the players for any form of engagement.
I doubt many of them knew any of their names before they arrived but, suddenly, it seemed their life’s ambition to get a scribble from Jordan Clark, James Taylor or Sai Sudharsan on their 4 and 6 cards. Between balls the players happily responded to their pleading.
Alas, previous showers meant the students could not get onto the outfield at the break for the real highlight. And it was past home time before the tea interval, when as usual at The Oval, spectators were encouraged on these moments of personal engagement cement fandom for youngsters. I collected autographs back in the day. My tattered old book is in the loft somewhere but the memories of getting a moment’s attention from a hero are still pristine. On one summer holiday at Broadstairs, my Dad spotted Derek Underwood on the beach at Joss Bay. I tore off the end of a tissue box and sheepishly approached him holding up my pen.
He was shirtless but wearing long blue shorts, there was a cool breeze, his forearms were very hairy and he signed without saying a word. Consider the details of that last sentence in the context of my failure, on any given day, to recall the contents of my breakfast by late afternoon.
Everyone can recount a similar tale and clearly interaction is the key. It is the ability to be momentarily close to our sporting heroes in the hope some stray stardust will land upon us. For me, a successful Blast game should be measured by on-pitch performance, revenue accrued and player pictures with young supporters. The longer 50-over event is tailor-made for memory-making as it sits in the summer holidays, the kids can have a long spell on the pitch and the batting side have time to do some proper glad-handing.
My spell in US soccer taught me the importance of players getting out there, especially in a challenger sport. I saw Alex Morgan, the darling of the women’s national soccer team, pull-off a faultless 45 minutes of smiles and high fives for the crowd straight after a 90-minute game while still in her sweaty kit. It is something women’s football has taken on over here and has undoubtedly helped its rapid growth.
And, if accessibility is how you spark a connection these days, then social media can nurture it after that. WWE have become one of the richest sport-adjacent entertainments in the world on the back of this strategy. It is also why, back in 2011, the fledgling UFC threw $240,000 into a bonus pool just to incentivise its fighters to properly interact with fans on social media. I bet most of the kids at Surrey this week could probably name more combatants in The Octagon than The Oval.
Of course, elite athletes must guard their time and space to perform at their best. Success is part of the attraction. Though, as Stokes said, not everything. Many fans take the mickey or are just plain annoying. But the vast majority merely want their moment and then they go.
If a quarter of those kids at The Oval last Monday can still find those autographed cards or can even remember a player or two then, given the previous absence of cricket on free-to-air television and its disappearance in state schools, it is a worthy exercise.
Their generation have so many more entertainment options than mine, so English cricket needs to get over itself, prick its own bubble and start engaging.
For exclusive stories and all the detailed cricket news you need, subscribe to The Cricket Paper website, digital edition, or newspaper from as little as 14p a day.