CHAPTER THREE
THE PRESTON PATRIOT
I went to a couple of St George’s Day celebrations years ago and they made me wince, because they were bordering on xenophobic. They’d bring these big roasts out, salute them and saw them up, before getting people up to rant and rave about what England meant to them. That’s all fine in theory, but what they thought England should be was like a vision from the 1960s. England has moved on, it’s a multicultural country now, just like almost every country in western Europe and the developed world. When it comes to most things, I’d argue that personal opinions can’t be wrong, because they’re personal opinions. But racism and xenophobia are just wrong, end of story.
England shouldn’t still be defined by a couple of wars we won in the early twentieth century or by whiteness, we should recognise that people from all over the world enhance the country. Nothing is going to change, the world is a global village, and has been for decades. I liked the fact that when I was growing up, my dad had mates from India, Pakistan and the Caribbean. I’m lucky in that from an early age, I never saw colour in the same way a lot of people my age did and I thought a multicultural society is what England should be. I’ve never been able to get my head around how anyone could automatically regard someone of a different colour or nationality or religion as problematic. The nice thing about kids is they don’t even see any differences.
I think it’s a shame that people aren’t proud of being English. I think you can reject all that jingoism and suspicion of foreigners and still be a ‘good’ patriot. I’ve never really considered myself to be European, which is what a lot of people started saying they were after Brexit kicked off, and I see myself as English rather than British. That’s not because I don’t like Europe or the other countries that make up Britain – and I wanted to remain in Europe – it’s just because I’m proud to be English, which is probably connected to the fact I represented England at cricket. It makes me sad that our manufacturing has collapsed and you can’t buy much that was made in England any more. I’d like to be able to buy things from England. I don’t think that’s narrow-minded or bigoted, that’s just natural, because it’s good for all English people. Even having to make excuses for being proud of being English now. That’s how it is, and it’s ridiculous.
I don’t like it when people knock England, just as I don’t like it when people knock Lancashire or Preston, because it’s where I’m from. When I go back to Preston now, I feel a real sense of belonging. Recently, I was doing some filming on my old estate and I felt right at home. I got chatting to these kids who were pulling wheelies on their bikes, the sort of kids a lot of people would avoid, just because of the way they look. They were great, nothing like the way they’re stereotyped, and talking to them made me quite nostalgic.
I think it might be slightly different if you’re from a northern town, because different towns and regions down south don’t tend to have their own accents, they’ve all merged into one. I don’t think I’ve got much of a Preston accent any more. I noticed that when I was chatting to those kids on the estate and Natalie in the chippy, I didn’t sound like them at first. But I soon slipped back into it, so much so that it became a bit of a struggle for the southern film crew, that was for sure. However, you can travel 20 minutes down the road, to Bolton or Wigan or St Helens, and the accent will change completely. That gives you a real sense that you’re part of a community with its own identity, shared past and traditions, separate from anywhere else.
Parts of Preston might not look that promising, with each estate looking like the next, and I know some pretty dodgy stuff goes on there. But at least everyone knows and looks out for each other. I’ve met my next-door neighbours in Cheshire, but I don’t know anyone else on my road. And people don’t really look out for each other in Cheshire, they mainly want to tell me how fast their car goes or where they’re going on their holidays. In Preston, you can have normal conversations with people. It’s not superficial, people ask you how you are and what you’ve been up to and you can tell there’s a genuine interest. When I was still drinking, I’d pop into a fancy bar and get looked after really well, but only because they thought it was nice to have someone vaguely famous in the place.
I don’t speak French or Italian, so I don’t know if French people or Italians spend all day on social media slagging off their own countries. But they can’t be as bad as English people. Americans love being Americans, Aussies love being Aussies, Kiwis love being Kiwis. And I guarantee that you will never meet a Scottish or Welsh person who feels uncomfortable about being proud of their country. They celebrate being from where they are. But if you read some of these comments on social media, you’d think England was the worst country in the world.
A lot of it stems from guilt. We spent a few hundred years conquering other countries and building this massive empire and, unsurprisingly, it didn’t go down too well with many of the locals. And now that’s come home to roost. We caused so much chaos and suffering that it’s now seen as problematic to celebrate Englishness. I can totally understand that, because I read about some of the things the English did and think, ‘Jesus, what the hell were they thinking? How could they be so horrible? Who thought it was a good idea to rock up to Africa and make people slaves?’ But it wasn’t me. I had nothing to do with the subjugation of India or the Opium Wars with China. And it wasn’t just the English, it was French, the Spanish, the Italians, the Germans, the Belgians and just about every other country in western Europe. That’s what European countries did back then, went around nicking other people’s lands.
When someone asks me what it means to be English, I find it difficult to answer. English culture is a slippery thing because we’re so diverse now. But I think it’s a good thing that English culture is difficult to describe, because that suggests it’s dynamic and always changing. And if I had to say what the best thing about England and Britain was, it would be its inclusivity. I’ve been to a lot of places that cling onto their culture and national identity, to the exclusion of newcomers. I wouldn’t want to live in a country like that. I went to Oktoberfest in Munich and couldn’t believe how white it was. It made me feel uncomfortable. We had an Asian lad as part of the production team and people were staring at him. Then they’d look at me as if to say, ‘You’re one of us’, and I’d be thinking, ‘No, I’m not!’ That’s the thing about Germany, they’re a very proud country and retain a lot of their old traditions, despite the part they played in the Second World War. They don’t seem to be embarrassed, and that was less than 100 years ago. Maybe that’s because they lost? Maybe the fact we won is a problem, because it means people keep going on about it and wanting to define us by how we were in the 1940s, and other people are turned off by that.
I suppose it’s about finding a balance: retaining old traditions while managing to incorporate the traditions of immigrants. Food is a great example. For years, England and Britain were famous for having bad food. Even in the 1990s, French president Jacques Chirac was making jokes about British food being the worst in the world – apart from Finnish. But London is now one of the world’s gastronomical hotspots. That’s because we started with a blank slate. Now, we’ve got the lot: traditional British food that has been made sophisticated, and food from just about every country in the world. In Spanish cities, for example, it’s mainly Spanish food. That’s great if you want to eat Spanish food all the time, but it’s not so great if you don’t.
Sometimes, it’s difficult to know whether you’re allowed to like certain historical English figures or not. Every country has historical figures that are problematic by modern standards.
I’ve been to Buckingham Palace and met the Queen, and while I wouldn’t say I was overwhelmed, it did make me feel special in some way. I suppose that feeling was pride. But was it pride at my personal achievement or pride at doing what I did for my country? It’s difficult to say. But that was the Queen, who is an amazing woman. She’s tiny but has an aura like no one else I’ve m
et.
I can understand why a lot of people think the royal family are a waste of money. Let’s face it, they haven’t exactly been covering themselves in glory these past few decades, and now we’ve got Prince Harry resigning and Prince Andrew being accused of all sorts and claiming it can’t have been him because he doesn’t sweat and was having dinner in Pizza Express in Woking. They’re in a bit of a pickle, no doubt about that, but I don’t agree with getting rid of them. They bring so much money into the country, in terms of trade and tourism, that we should keep them for financial reasons, if no other. People say we could get rid of the royal family while keeping the palaces and parks and what not, but how would that work? What about all the money that gets made when one of them gets married or has a kid? And what would be the point of Buckingham Palace if the Queen didn’t live there? It wouldn’t make sense. Then again, when the Queen goes, that will be the turning point for a lot of people. Say what you like about the Queen, she’s kind of impossible to hate. But Charles comes with a lot of baggage and is not everyone’s cup of tea.
Funnily enough, I met Meghan a few years ago. I’d had a massive night out and was sleeping off my hangover on the sofa in my agent’s office. He came in and said, ‘Right, you have to get out now, I’ve got a meeting with this girl off Suits.’ I found a sofa in another office and saw her walk in with a press pack and some books. Apparently, Richard had to say to her, ‘I don’t know what I can do for you.’ But it turned out she had bigger fish to fry.
I even felt awkward singing ‘God Save the Queen’ before matches, although that was mainly because we’d have to do it at 10.30 in the morning when there were only about 50 people in the stands and everyone could hear me. It’s not as if I didn’t like the anthem, I just thought it was unnecessary for a cricket match. In America, they sing it before everything, and if anyone doesn’t stand up or put their hand on their heart, people think they’re wrong ’uns. And I’ve seen plenty of people start crying when they’ve won a gold medal at the Olympics and their country’s flag is being hauled up the pole. But that was never going to be me. I’m patriotic and could get a bit emotional, but I was never a blubberer. That was fine with me, because some of the people who did put their hand on their heart and get a bit teary weren’t patriotic, they just looked it. When I started playing for England, we were rubbish. We shouldn’t have been, because we had some good players. But a more selfish group of players the world has never seen. They weren’t patriots, they were narcissists. Patriotism is about playing well, so that the England team win.
CHAPTER FOUR
THE STATE OF CRICKET
Imagine if cricket didn’t already exist and someone came along and tried to invent it. Imagine the conversations with broadcasters and members of the public: ‘So, there are two teams of 11 players and they both take it in turns to bat and bowl. There are two players batting at the same time, and their main aim is to stop the ball hitting three pieces of wood sticking out of the ground. In one-day cricket, they bat and bowl once. And a one-day game can go on for 20 overs, 40 overs or 50 overs. I’ll explain what an over is in a minute. But in first-class cricket, they have to bat and bowl twice. But the only people who’ll be able to watch that are pensioners, the unemployed or the unemployable, because it’s played during the week, when most people are at work. If it’s a first-class match between two countries, the game can go on for five days. That’s called a Test. If it does last the full five days, it’s a draw. But it might not last five days, it might last only three or four. Sometimes less. And because people don’t really expect a game to last four or five days, the ground will often be full for the first three days. Bit weird, I know, but that’s just the way we’ve designed it, so that people flock to watch the result being set up but hardly anyone watches the game being won. And when the winning team are celebrating, the cheers are literally echoing around the ground. If they’re celebrating winning a series – I’ll come back to that – they’ll be spraying champagne at each other and feeling a bit stupid, because it doesn’t feel like anyone else is particularly interested. And if it rains you can’t play. Instead, the players sit in a pavilion getting bored and the fans huddle under staircases drinking very expensive beer and burgers. But you don’t rearrange the game for another time, you pretend like it never happened. Did I mention that a Test series might consist of five games and last for months? No? I’m not quite finished yet. Not interested? Oh, fair enough, I’ll try someone else . . . ’
What kind of state is cricket in? It depends on what you’re comparing it to. If you’re comparing it to shove ha’penny, then it’s flying. If you’re comparing it to football, then it’s in a terrible state. But most sports all over the world are in a terrible state compared to football. Football is the benchmark in terms of playing numbers, attendances, fandom, money and media attention, and every other sport is fighting for little scraps. There was a time, not so long ago, when that wasn’t the case. Back in the 1980s, you’d even get snooker on the back pages of the tabloids instead of football. But now, probably the only sport that can shift football is boxing (and only if Anthony Joshua or Tyson Fury are fighting) or rugby union (and only if England are doing well in a World Cup). Obviously, English cricket has had its moment in the sun since, for example the 2005 Ashes and when the national team won the World Cup in such dramatic fashion in 2019, but I suspect they were blips rather than part of a trend. As things stand, English cricket is where it has been for many years, a second-or possibly third-tier sport.
When kids reach 14 or 15, and realise that they don’t want to spend all week working hard at school only to spend all weekend playing cricket because they’ve got mates to mess around with and girls to chase and any number of other things to do, they start drifting off. Cricket is also an expensive game. Modern bats cost a few hundred quid (and break far more easily than old ones, despite not being guaranteed) and there’s also the gloves and pads and other protective equipment to consider. And a lot of state schools don’t play it because they don’t have access to equipment or pitches or nets or groundsmen, which is why there are fewer working-class players in county cricket than there were 100 years ago. Gone are the days when, as the old saying goes, the committees of some counties only had to whistle down the pit shaft to summon a handful of fast bowlers. If the England team has a bad few years when they’re getting thumped by the Aussies and not winning trophies, cricket’s relevance could slide even further.
Whether you think cricket is healthy or not also depends on what you want it to look like. I want Test cricket to be strong, I want England to be good at it and I want the Ashes to be massive. That’s because I think Test cricket is and always should be the pinnacle. But even I realise that that’s an outdated way of looking at the situation. In England, we still get big crowds for Test cricket, but that isn’t the case in other parts of the world. In some countries, Test cricket seems to be hanging on for dear life. I watch Test matches in the West Indies or Sri Lanka and there’s hardly anyone there, even on day one. Then again, people were going on about Test cricket hanging on for dear life when I started playing. Even 20 years ago, the bulk of the crowd for Tests would be English, apart from in Australia, where Test cricket still has huge cultural significance.
One of English cricket’s biggest problems is its lack of visibility, in that it’s no longer shown live on terrestrial TV. If huge swathes of the population without satellite subscriptions can’t watch it, they’re not going to be into it. The 2005 Ashes series, which was broadcast by Channel 4, was watched by millions and made players household names. But it wasn’t sustainable, for Channel 4 or English cricket. Since taking over, Sky has invested hundreds of millions of pounds into English cricket. Without that money, I’m not sure English cricket would be as healthy as it is today. So how can people say Sky have been bad for cricket? It doesn’t really make sense. Who would be showing cricket if Sky weren’t? Do people really think that BBC2 would clear eight hours a day for five days for a Test match betw
een England and Bangladesh? And do they really think that the money the BBC would pay would prop up English cricket? Pay TV has been necessary to keep the game afloat. And Sky’s coverage is brilliant, they’ve brought it such a long way in the last 20 years.
Cricket has been transitioning for quite a while now, basically since the introduction of Twenty20 at the start of the century. Twenty20 has changed the game in many ways, from the way it’s played to the priorities of players, fans and broadcasters. If you’re a kid now, you don’t want to watch a batsman score a careful 50 from 150 balls, even if it’s for the good of the team. Kids don’t watch that and think, ‘Wow, what a craftsman, what technique, what patience and concentration’, they just think it’s boring. Instead, they want to see someone come out and smash 50 from 15 balls. And a lot of today’s players are the same. I’ll hear them waxing lyrical about the Big Bash in Australia or the Indian Premier League (IPL) or the Bangladesh Premier League or read their social-media posts about how far they or someone else belted a ball, and not be able to get my head around it. Some of these lads will be good players making a decent living, which I can’t blame them for. But we now have the situation where players who work hard to be what used to be called ‘proper’ batsmen – players like Kent and England’s Zak Crawley, who can get his head down and grind out innings against good fast bowling – are earning far less money than Twenty20 specialists who travel the world trying to belt every ball as far as they can, which is dangerous for the longer forms of the game.
Right, Said Fred Page 4