The English cricket lover can get a little battle-weary, cynical
even. Supporting a team which so often flatters to deceive is
just one part of the English cricket experience. Commentators
harking back to a mythical bygone golden age, cricket clubs
battling for survival with dwindling playing memberships who
prioritise golf, kids, or just ration their valuable free time in
an era of extreme time poverty. And constant negative sniping
from those who can't or won't open their minds to this beautiful
game.
And then something happens that reminds you why you chose cricket
in the first place - a moment when cricket reminds you quietly of
its power, and why it chose you.
It happened to me at a proud and confident primary school in
Harare, Zimbabwe. I was there to publicise CricInfo's
Z$5-million donation to the ZCU's development programme. A
coaching session had been arranged to show the world's press the
remarkable progress cricket is making in Zimbabwe's schools,
particularly those in high-density areas, Zimbabwe's less
privileged suburbs and rural areas.
The lure of a positive story had led a small but interested
section of the England media touring party to Chipembere School.
Nick Knight and Mark Alleyne from the cricketing contingent had
given up their afternoon to coach the kids and endorse the
extraordinary work of the development programme. But no-one
really knew what to expect.
What we found was nothing short of a revelation - 50 or 60
children between 7 and 14 had come to the event, either as part
of their lessons, or arriving on foot from a neighbouring school.
Some took part in a disciplined net practice, others played a
highly competitive game on a quality artificial wicket amidst
coarse clumps of grass on a sandy outfield, younger children were
drilled in fielding or running between the wickets. Even those
not officially involved improvised a game on the edge of the
field with a stick as a bat and a broken oil drum as the wicket.
And how they can play. What struck me most, apart from the
infectious enthusiasm and the ubiquitous smiles, was the
correctness of their play. Boycottesque forward defensives,
wristy leg glances from the Tendulkar school (quite tricky with
an irregularly shaped stick as your bat), a touch of Holding in
the bowling actions, whirling spinners. These guys have real
talent.
Henry Motsi, co-ordinator of the ZCU's development programme, is
convinced that cricket is the number one sport for these kids.
It's a claim that one would expect from a man who is expanding
cricket's appeal by the day, a cricket missionary taking the game
to new areas, particularly rural areas never previously touched
by cricket's magic. But having seen what we saw, I can put aside
my cynical English view, and believe his words wholeheartedly.
Mark Alleyne said he was expecting soccer-mad kids, all yearning
to be David Beckham or Dwight Yorke. But for these young
sportsmen, cricket is the sport and Henry Olonga the man they
want to emulate. Perhaps after Monday, they will add Nick and
Mark to that list.
Henry Motsi can't send his growing band of coaches out quickly
enough. He has 20 schools on his immediate waiting list, and a
further 100 or so clamouring for cricket. A ZCU coach will be
assigned to the school who will see what is needed in terms of
support, facilities, staff training, and will work with the
teachers to establish a cricket infrastructure. The schools will
take part in the regular CricInfo schools cricket weeks, and
talented players will be identified early and sent on ZCU
scholarship to Zimbabwe's leading cricket-playing secondary
schools. From there, the door to Zimbabwe's national teams, is
open to those good enough to walk through it. And the relatively
small cricketing population means that opportunities abound.
Aside from the huge talent in Zimbabwe's indigenous population
that is starting to express itself, the other factor that
convinces me that Zimbabwe's cricketing future is in safe hands
is the way the game is played. The polite applause that greets a
good shot, the joyous yet controlled celebration of a falling
wicket, the willingness to listen and take advice from coaches,
all of these exemplify the spirit in which these young
Zimbabweans are embracing cricket.
The basics are being put in place now, and enough young people
are playing cricket for the critical mass factor to start to come
into effect. From this point on, perhaps schools will start to
take their own steps to introduce the game, the newspapers and TV
will accept the presence of cricket in the nation's consciousness
and start to meet the increasing interest with more coverage, and
kids will start to play in the streets of their own accord. But
that doesn't mean the hard work has been done. ZCU, with
CricInfo's $5M sponsorship behind them, will be there every step
of the way to encourage, provide practical help, and harness the
enthusiasm of these kids who have so much to offer.
And when was that moment that cricket reminded me this English
observer of its power? Driving away from Chipembere School with
all the visitors quite beguiled by what they had seen, I glanced
to my left to the homes of the local people. Outside the garden
wall, on a strip of earth slightly narrower than a conventional
wicket, three twigs were sticking up out of the earth, and four
or five youngsters, not more than six years old, had improvised
their own game of cricket. Quite impervious to the passing cars,
the batsman wielded his plank of wood, stepped forward, and drove
the ball back to the bowler. We had seen the future of Zimbabwe
cricket.