by Tim Wigmore
It has never been harder to get into the Ireland side. Proof of this is how many first-class players around the world have written to Cricket Ireland saying that they are Ireland-qualified and would be keen to play. Sean Ervine and Mal Loye, former international players for Zimbabwe and England, are among those whose interest has not been followed up: Cricket Ireland needs to know whether they want to make a contribution to Irish cricket or merely use Ireland as a vehicle to play in the World Cup.
The example of Tim Murtagh shows how seriously Ireland take this process. After he realised that he was eligible to play for Ireland – the result of talking to his good friend Ed Joyce – Ireland did extensive research on his character to gauge whether he risked disturbing the team dynamics. Having concluded that Murtagh, an unassuming and affable type, posed no such risk, the paperwork for him to play for Ireland was completed in early 2012, just before the World Twenty20 qualifiers. Murtagh had just enjoyed his finest season: 80 Championship wickets at 20.98 each. Based on these figures his selection would have been beyond doubt.
Yet Ireland took a different approach, reticent about parachuting Murtagh into the side ahead of those already established. He was omitted altogether from Ireland’s squad for the qualifiers and only called up as a reserve after an injury. More egotistical men might have sulked at having to don a bib and carry the drinks despite possessing an outstanding record in county cricket. Murtagh asserted that the experience made him treasure his subsequent appearances for Ireland even more. ‘Maybe it was a bit of a test of my commitment. I think it was actually good that it worked out that way. The last thing I wanted to do was walk into the team and put someone out of the team who’d been there for years and years and not feel that I’d really earned it.
‘I didn’t play straight away and sat on the bench for a while. I think that was good for me – it made me more hungry and more determined to want to pull on that green jersey.’
The contrast with other associate nations – even Scotland – who have freely dished out caps to players as soon as they qualify without ascertaining their commitment is just one example of how Ireland could be considered to have outgrown the associate world.
It is apt that Ireland’s premier cricket ground is in Dublin: it is here that the transformation of cricket has been most pronounced. During its wilderness years, Irish cricket was strongest in the northwest and Belfast. It was always played in Dublin too – the beautiful ground at Trinity College is easily visible from the street – but it has only been in the last decade that the city became Irish cricket’s stronghold.
The two best Irish cricketers playing today, Joyce and Eoin Morgan, were both reared here. Dublin was also the biggest beneficiary of the Celtic Tiger, which helped to bring players like Trent Johnston, David Langford-Smith and Andre Botha to Ireland. The standards they brought with them helped lift up the quality of club cricket.
They also helped to erode the image of Irish cricket as a posh sport. According to the journalist – and former Ireland substitute fielder – James Fitzgerald, Trent Johnston ‘transcended all of that. People were able to follow him as an adopted Irishman and an Irish cricketing hero without any of that baggage; without knowing or caring what school he went to or what his dad did for a living.’
The Celtic Tiger is long gone yet the real benefits of it to Irish cricket may be yet to come. Since 2006 the non-Chinese Asian population has been the fastest growing in Ireland, with an annual growth rate of 13.3 per cent. This has been particularly great in and around Dublin, reflected in a surge of new clubs in Leinster: there are 120 in the province today, compared with 99 in 2006. Around half of all cricketers in Leinster today learned the game overseas.
While significant numbers of the Asian community have attended recent ODI series against Pakistan and Sri Lanka, against Scotland the ground consisted overwhelmingly of white faces. ‘We don’t have the means and the resources to be able to say, “Let’s target this particular community in terms of promotion,”’ Deutrom admitted.
Brían O’Rourke, the Leinster cricket development manager, admitted to me, ‘We need to get these Asians to sit on our various committees in Leinster and fully engage them in all our activities. And we badly need one player of Asian background to represent Ireland.’ No such player has played for Ireland since they gained ODI status in 2006.
Simranjit Singh could be the first. Born in Punjab, he played for Punjab Under-17s and was close to earning a contract with Kings XI Punjab in 2008. He has played in Ireland since 2006 and, in 2011, made the decision to attempt to play for Ireland. His first appearance for Ireland could be in the World Twenty20 qualifiers in 2015, which Ireland are co-hosting with Scotland. ‘I am targeting that,’ he said. ‘The dream is to get the green jersey on.’
Batting has always been Singh’s strength, and he has scored heavily in Irish club cricket, but he was aware that his off spin could fast-track his route into the international side. ‘There’s an opportunity for a spinner in Ireland.’ He is working on expanding his bowling repertoire – including bowling the doosra. ‘I bowled a few last season but I haven’t got full control. I’m working on it.’
Singh asserted that the presence of an Irish-Asian in the national side ‘would definitely attract more of the Asian community’ to support the Ireland team. Today there is ‘not much connection’ between some of the new, virtually all-Asian clubs like Adamstown and Cricket Ireland.
An incident at Leinster Cricket Club in 2012 hardly helped: a group of Asian players were questioned about their club membership while watching India play Pakistan in the World Twenty20. In protest against the lack of ‘sense of urgency’ about investigating the issue, 18 players left the club.
Insiders agree about the need for a Cricket Ireland outreach officer to ensure that Irish-Asians are fully incorporated into the mainstream Irish cricketing scene. It would also help to ensure that Ireland’s team benefits from the most talented Irish-Asian cricketers.
Cricket in Ireland has always been accused of being an ‘English sport’ – a claim often made by those in Liverpool or Manchester United shirts. Even a generation ago, young people often kept their cricket playing to themselves. ‘Anybody who I met through school or discos, I never owned up to them that I played cricket,’ John Mooney said. ‘The English thing was a big stigma over in Ireland especially where I was from. I’m from a real GAA background. Cricket would have been frowned upon.’
A little of that attitude remains today: some children face pressure to pursue Gaelic sports over cricket. But Mooney and his team-mates have done plenty to change that. And nothing undermined the perception of cricket being a posh English sport quite like beating England at it. ‘That was the biggest thing that broke down the idea of cricket being an English sport within Ireland – the fact that the Irish people have witnessed an Irish team beat England at what they call their own sport,’ Mooney reflected.
The Ireland side is remarkable for more than just their success in transforming the game in Ireland – but also for their spirit and unity in spite of profound differences. The journalist Nick Royle described the squad as ‘genuinely the most mixed of any sporting team I have ever encountered’. It comprises Protestants and Catholics; Sinn Fein supporters and staunch Unionists; Dubliners of working-class and posh violin-playing stock; and immigrants from South Africa, Australia and – soon – Asia too.
The diversity has not only contributed to a vibrant cricket side – it has been an all-Ireland beacon for unity and inclusiveness. ‘If anything, it doesn’t create problems, it helps to solve them,’ Mooney asserted. ‘Hopefully it will continue to break down the barriers between north and south, and continue to integrate young Catholics and young Protestants together.’
If the transformation of Irish cricket over the last decade has been extraordinary, the acute fear is that Ireland is not being allowed to capitalise upon its cricketing moment. As idyllic as The Village ground is, Ireland are restless for much more – and quickly.
UAE by Peter Miller
FEW balls become iconic. There was Eric Hollies dismissing Don Bradman for a duck in his final Test innings to deprive him of averaging 100. Shane Warne’s ‘ball of the century’ to Mike Gatting. Trevor Chappell rolling a delivery along the ground under instructions from his brother.
For many, if you ask them about cricket in the United Arab Emirates there is an equally memorable moment. Allan Donald was the bowler. The batsman was Sultan Mohammad Zarawani. He was the captain of the UAE, the only native of that country in the side, and pretty much a club cricketer. He walked out to bat wearing a sun hat. In 1996 there was no one bowling faster and with more venom than Donald. It is not often that a nickname is as fitting as Donald’s ‘White Lightning’ moniker. Facing him as a player with international pedigree was a daunting prospect. To do so as a man with a batting average of just above four in ODIs, not wearing a helmet was, quite frankly, a bit daft.
‘This helmet thing made me claustrophobic, I never wore one,’ Zarawani told me. ‘And they were still quite new at the time.’
As the UAE skipper marked his guard to face that first delivery you could tell what was going to happen. Of course Donald bounced him first ball. Of course it hit him straight on the head. Zarawani swayed on his feet. He searched around for his sun hat, as if that was all that he needed at that very moment. He faced another six balls, he didn’t score a run. He was taken straight to hospital.
By the time Zarawani arrived at the World Cup, his body was no longer his to control. He had received three operations on his knees and was having regular cortisone injections just to enable him to play through the pain. He spent 24 hours in bed before every game to get into a fit state to play.
‘I wasn’t meant to walk, forget about playing. Between overs I couldn’t even change positions, that is how badly I was affected. I couldn’t even feel my knees or my toes but my will was to play in the World Cup because I had given so much to get there. I said on my dead body am I going to let my knees ruin this dream of mine.’
He was 35 but his knees were those of a much older man. On top of that, he was a lower-order batsman facing the quickest bowler in the world. In a sun hat. ‘It was just a very good bouncer, it bounced just right in front of me. I didn’t have the reaction time and with these wobbly knees I couldn’t even bend down.’ He is very stoical about it, and although it became a big issue at the time he says he had no ill feeling toward Donald, although he admits to calling him a name or two in the immediate aftermath.
‘It just grazed my head, it didn’t hit me bang on. It looked bad, it shocked me a bit, and I was a bit nervous afterwards. I was more camera conscious than worried about being hit by Donald.’
Thankfully there were no lasting effects but Donald said in his autobiography that as he watched Zarawani tumble to the ground he thought that he had killed him. In fairness, Donald was not alone in thinking that. Watching it at the time, I could hear my father make a sharp intake of breath. I think I shouted. Was he brave or stupid? Is the line between the two all that clear?
While the image of a visibly shaken Zarawani searching for his head gear is one that endures, his contribution to cricket in his country is much more significant than that. He was well-thought of by those he led in the World Cup, all of whom speak of him in reverential terms to this day. While there was talk of sports cars and fabulous wealth that gave you the impression of some sort of playboy millionaire, it is clear that Zarawani had a great love for cricket.
He wasn’t a terrible cricketer, even if he was no batsman. He bowled leg spin well enough to dismiss Sachin Tendulkar in an ODI with a ball that dipped, turned and took the edge through to the wicketkeeper. It was his one wicket in the match, but what a wicket! While he may have struggled in the rarefied air of international cricket, you could imagine him picking up bucketloads of wickets in Premier League cricket in England or in the Australian Grades.
He says the World Cup adventure was his doing. It was him that brought the team together. He says he was the one who paid for the airfare to the World Cup; it was him who arranged the fundraising events. When he wanted to practice at the Sharjah Stadium owned by Abdul Rahman Bukhatir, he had to pay out of his own pocket for the privilege. He even negotiated for the permission for the team to go to the tournament.
Bukhatir was the man behind bringing cricket to Sharjah in the early 1980s. He arranged for international cricket to be played there in sponsored tournaments known as the Sharjah Cup. The stadium continues to be used for high class cricket until this day. It had modest beginnings, but it is now a 16,000-seat floodlit venue. In 1994, Zarawani’s team had qualified for the World Cup in a tournament in Kenya where the UAE had achieved 12 straight victories. He wanted his team to play against India, Pakistan, New Zealand, Sri Lanka and Australia in that year’s Sharjah event.
‘I called Abdul Rahman Bukhatir from Nairobi and said, “Can we play in this Austral-Asia Cup?” First they were resistant. I literally threatened that I would go to the press if they didn’t let us play.’
The tournament organisers gave in and the UAE were allowed to play. That first game of the Sharjah-based event was against India where Zarawani dismissed Tendulkar. The UAE lost both of the games by a wide margin in that event, but they were not overawed by their opponents.
Despite doing so much for UAE cricket, despite getting to a World Cup through force of will, he walked away from the game. Shahzad Altaf was one of those who played under Zarawani and he cannot speak of him highly enough. It is with real sadness that Altaf says, after the 1996 World Cup, ‘Mr Sultan Zarawani never entered a ground.’ Zarawani fell out with those in charge and took his sun-bleached hat with him.
Speaking to Zarawani was not easy. I managed to contact him only after a lot of graft and perseverance. I had begged for his contact details on Twitter. I had sent Facebook messages to the account of a bar I was told he owned. I finally got his number and called him. When I spoke to him, he asked me to e-mail him details of the project. I sent him the proposal for this book and awaited a response.
The deadline was looming and I still had not heard. I called again. No answer. I resolved to give it one last go; he answered, he said he would speak to me. He explained that he hadn’t wanted to talk as he was done with UAE cricket. I said that without his story none of this would make sense. Zarawani tells me, ‘You won’t like what I have to say’; he doesn’t want to be critical but that is the way he feels.
‘After qualifying and after playing in the World Cup we came back and expected to make the World Cup a way to take things forward and we could have achieved so much more,’ he said. ‘But nobody did anything, apart from firing me and putting a ban on me for life.’
When he talks of the way the relationship broke down, he says, ‘After the World Cup they didn’t want me. And I didn’t fight it at all.’ He wanted to do things his way and that was not something that those in charge at the time felt comfortable with. He says he was too much of a powerful force, that they wanted him out. ‘I was not under their control. I was never going to be a yes man to them. My love for the game was different. They don’t have the love of the game. I wanted to play cricket at this level. To feel it, to taste it. And I did it.’
Since Zarawani’s departure, there have been few Emirati cricketers in the team. The reasons for this are both cultural and political. For those who are UAE citizens, cricket isn’t their sport. It is the game of the wastelands and workers. It is what the people who arrived in their country to build their hotels, skyscrapers and roads brought with them from India, Pakistan, Sri Lanka, England and more recently, Afghanistan. While cricket is everywhere in the Emirates, played on every scrap of land that can be commandeered for the purpose, it does not belong to the country.
To understand cricket in the UAE you need to understand the history of this very young country. The United Arab Emirates is only slightly older than the Cricket World Cup, a tournament that they qualified for in 2014. It wasn’t until 1971 t
hat the area now known as the UAE became independent from the British. It was founded when Abu Dhabi, Ajman, Dubai, Fujairah, Sharjah, and Umm al-Quwain come together, joined a year later by Ras al-Khaimah. The formation of this alliance of Emirates came about as the British decided they could no longer afford to honour the protection treaties they had signed and withdrew from the region.
The government is made up of the hereditary emirs from each of the Emirates, with the ruler of Abu Dhabi taking the presidency and the ruler of Dubai the prime minister’s office. To be a citizen of the UAE your father has to have been a citizen, or you need to have been married to an Emirati for at least ten years. Even then, marriage does not guarantee that you will be welcomed into the fold.
Emirati citizens are outnumbered eight to one by immigrants, with the country having the tenth highest net immigration rate of anywhere in the world. Being born in the UAE doesn’t mean you come from there, with the children of immigrants born in the country still considered expats. As the nation used oil revenues to build its infrastructure there was a massive increase in migrant workers, most of them from the Asian sub-continent. What all of this has meant is that those who have arrived in the UAE from Pakistan, India and Sri Lanka have brought their love of cricket with them.
In terms of playing numbers, cricket is by far the most popular sport in the UAE. The issue for those who run the game isn’t numbers of people playing the game. It isn’t that there is no top level cricket; the UAE has been hosting international cricket for well over 20 years.
The challenge lies in getting locals to be passionate about it. Emiratis see cricket as the game of the labourers who have come to the country to help build the hotels and resorts for which the UAE has become famous. It isn’t something that the locals see as belonging to them. As a result, it isn’t something that the government are particularly keen to fund. Whereas in other countries football is the game of the working man and cricket is seen as an elite pursuit, in the UAE it is the exact opposite.