by John Wisden
TIM BROOKS
CHINA
In May, Jiang Shuyao, a PE student at Shenyang Sports University, became the first cricketer from mainland China to play a league match overseas – for Cleethorpes Academy against Holton-le-Clay Fourth Eleven in the East Lindsey Cricket League. Jiang walked out, took first strike and scored an unbeaten 76 to chase down 121. Paul Hewstone, cricket chairman at Cleethorpes, said “Shu would have got into the first team on his fielding alone. He’s one of the best in the club.” But the first team already had a South African fast bowler as their registered overseas professional in the Yorkshire Premier League. Instead, Jiang found his level in the seconds, averaging 30 and helping out with the wicket at the first-class ground, where Nottinghamshire used to play the occasional game. The Asian Cricket Council paid for his flights and travel costs, and Jiang’s family – by no means members of China’s nouveau riche – forked out 50,000 yuan (£5,000) to support him for six months. Cleethorpes players put him up for the entire trip. “He’d only really played Twenty20 before,” said Hewstone. “There were a couple of times early on when he’d cream two fours, then slice one up in the air.” The student learned fast. As the season wore on, Jiang grew more cautious, and less likely to throw his bat at one on a sticky dog. Armed with a translation device on his smartphone, he gradually got to grips with the language too, with the odd understandable mishap – among them a three-hour wait in a car park in Doncaster after missing his stop on the train. Tactics were less of a problem. “He instinctively understood field positions and strategy – and started to contribute more in the field as he became more confident in English,” said Hewstone. But he did well to refrain from using either English or Mandarin in a fractious cup match at Nettleham, when Jiang was last man out for 50, five short of victory, to a questionable lbw decision; he simply put his bat under his arm and walked off. Opportunities to play at such a high standard have been rare for Chinese cricketers, who remain largely excluded from the expat-dominated leagues in Beijing and Shanghai. But in 2012, three of Jiang’s national team-mates spent time playing and training in Sydney; three other men and three women came to England as guests of the charity Capital Kids Cricket. Alas, their trip coincided with the wettest June in London in living memory, which obliterated almost all their matches.
JAMES COYNE
FRANCE
MCC marked London 2012 by crossing the Channel in June for an Olympic commemoration fixture. It was conceived as a rematch of sorts of the 1900 Paris Olympics, when Devon County Wanderers, representing Great Britain, beat the Union des Sociétés Françaises de Sports Athlétiques (France) by 158 runs in a two-innings game. This time, a Twenty20 game was played at the charming Chaˆteau de Thoiry, west of Paris. To a soundtrack of roaring lions and other exotic wildlife from the zoo in the grounds, MCC won by 34 runs. That was a far cry from the last time they were in town: in 1989, to mark the bicentenary of the French Revolution, they slipped to a seven-wicket defeat against a France team led by an Irishman, Jack Short, and containing just one Frenchman. It was a hollow victory – cricket hasn’t progressed much since, and remains largely the preserve of expats. But that may change. The France Cricket Association has invested heavily in Kwik Cricket, introducing the game into 150 schools in September. The aim is to reach 300 to 500 schools – and 40,000 children – within three years. Around 150 teachers have been trained up in the basics of the game; that figure is expected to reach 800. A full-time project co-ordinator has been hired, along with five regional development officers. The FCA have also forged an Anglo-French relationship with Kent: 18-year-old leg-spinner Zika Ali has spent time at the Academy in Canterbury, and received a leg-spin masterclass from board patron Richie Benaud at Thoiry. If the kids come through, then in 15 years perhaps MCC will be able to play a team of thoroughbred Frenchmen.
BARNEY SPENDER
GERMANY
The first summer’s cricket on the spectacular Maifeld, beside Berlin’s Olympic Stadium, was an almost unmitigated success. Cricketers had been evicted from the nearby Körnerplatz field in 2011, after fears about potential damage caused by flying cricket balls, but a new venue was eventually agreed, with the grant of two new synthetic pitches. Highlights included the emergence of a young Afghan tweaker, and the first schools match at the ground, during which children aged eight to 11 inspired hopes that cricket may yet gain a grassroots footing in the German capital. An incursion by the national polo championships in August was tolerated with good humour, although the cricketers showed less understanding when a local groundsman decided to paint a line down the centre of one pitch to demarcate the viewing area for a fireworks display. But no season in Berlin would be complete without controversy. During one league match involving DSSC Berlin, the eventual champions, the age-old question of ball-tampering raised its head. The umpires, noticing the number of abrasions on one side, confiscated the ball and sent it in for inspection; fines and suspensions ensued.
FABIAN MUIR
GUATEMALA
Guatemala, cradle of the Mayan civilisation, but new to the game of cricket, won the regional Easter Cup by whitewashing El Salvador home and away. Cricket’s early pioneers were Manuel Farfan, a PE teacher who introduced it into public schools on the advice of British friends, and Asociación Manos Amigas, a non-governmental organisation keen to reduce violence among disadvantaged children. But it took Luke Humphries, a young Christian missionary from Hampshire, to establish the first club, in 2011. It has since morphed into Guatemala City Jaguars and Santiago Sacatepéquez Knights, while the Asociación de Cricket de Guatemala has been set up to entice more Guatemalans to the game. Training takes place on football grounds, with competitive matches at the Democracia Stadium in Guatemala City. Those of us first enchanted by the game on trips overseas were honoured to represent our nation, and have done her proud.
STUARDO MONROY
LIBERIA
William Gabriel Kpoleh, a combative opposition leader and political prisoner, probably had little time for cricket. But long after his passing, the school that bears his name is keeping the game afloat. An enthusiastic headmaster, an expanding group of curious students, and the cricket-mad Indian community have created their own hub on a playground on the outskirts of Monrovia. Hop on a downtown motorbike taxi, cling on for dear life and, 45 minutes later, with occasional stops for barked instructions, you are in New Georgia. On a scorching Sunday morning, a practice match is already under way. The wicket is improvised, lovingly assembled by a Liberian devotee based on pictures downloaded from the internet. Bats are generously shared around. For now, bowlers make do with a tennis ball. There is no Liberian Alf Gover yet, but Anish Panchal has volunteered his services as a coach. He is convinced of cricket’s healing power. “Cricket has done a great deal to strengthen unity between Muslims and Hindus in India,” he says. “These are strong, fit guys. They have adapted quickly to a new sport, and understand it requires daily practice to become a good player. I regularly screen DVDs from the last World Cup, so the guys can learn about tactics, field placings, how to chase a target.” Watching from the side, with visible pride, are Michael Nyanneh, president of the Liberia National Cricket Federation, and the secretary, James Brown III. Nyanneh noticed Asians playing cricket when he was a refugee in neighbouring Ivory Coast during the civil war years. Upon his return to Liberia, he flirted with the idea of setting up a baseball association – perhaps a more logical choice in a country founded by freed African-American slaves. But the sports ministry suggested cricket instead. They were supportive, but had no money to offer, so he turned to the small but prosperous Indian community. And in February 2012, an inaugural tournament was staged at Samuel K. Doe Sports Complex, where an LNCF XI, mixing Liberians with Indians, earned a three-run victory over Monrovia Super Kings, a cash prize of $450 and an unspecified package from the sponsor. The New Republic, betraying its American influence, declared the Super Kings had been “whipped 116–113”.
CHRIS SIMPSON
MALDIVES
In 2010, the American R&B superstar Akon was due to play a concert at Ekuveni Stadium on Male´, the largest island in the Maldives, until it was shelved at the last minute following threats by Islamic groups who objected to his raunchier songs. The building knocked together to house his band’s equipment now acts as a cricket pavilion. Space is at a premium in this archipelago of 200 inhabited (and 1,000 uninhabited) islands, so cricketers share the stadium with the nation’s athletes: the pitch is contained within the running track on a sand-and-seashell surface. Another ground was built in late 2011, on the southern island of Fuvahmulah, for a tournament between Under-25 teams from the leading cricketing nations in Asia. The competition, won by Pakistan, ran parallel with a South Asian regional political summit hosted by then-president Mohamed Nasheed – famous for hosting a cabinet meeting underwater to highlight what climate change might do to his low-lying nation. Nasheed, who learned the rudiments of the game at Dauntsey’s School in Wiltshire, apparently had grand plans to install more grounds, including the country’s first turf wicket, but since he was ousted in February 2012 – at gunpoint, he claimed – funding for cricket appears to have decreased. A year of political turmoil did not prevent the Maldives taking part in the ACC Trophy Elite for the first time, after which Maldivian cricket legend Moosa Kaleem retired, aged 37.
JAMES COYNE
MONGOLIA
On the outskirts of Ulan Bator, in the brown, barren earth, there is a patch of land that stands out. It is mainly flat and stoneless; most importantly, it is 22 yards long. And every Sunday in summer, it belongs to the only cricket club in Mongolia. Wedged between Siberia and China, and untouched by the British Empire, the country hasn’t seen much of the sport. But in 1995, Indian and British expats formed the Mongolian Cricket Club. Five years later, Lord’s gave them permission to use the initials MCC (provided there was no clash of interest). By 2005, the game was fading, but it was reborn in a restaurant on the sixth floor of the UB Hotel, run by an Indian, Babu Joseph. After a quiz night, a group of Indians and Australians decided they wanted to play regularly again. They had no real pitch, so they built their own. “It was hard work, but the mining companies helped,” said Shiva Velchuri, a 34-year-old from Andhra Pradesh who works in IT. “They have all the toys – excavators, rollers, compactors. We even got staff from the Indian Embassy to help, picking out stones.” Three-quarters of the players are Indian, the rest mostly Australian. They’ve had South Africans and Zimbabweans, and Americans and Canadians who like to practise their baseball. The club play Twenty20 matches among themselves. Mongolians have also tried their hand for the first time. “Every week, locals will walk through the field while we’re playing. One even stopped to watch standing right in the middle – can you believe it?” spluttered Velchuri. They’ve also been visited by the police a couple of times. “They were curious, I think. They asked our local players some questions, and made sure we weren’t drinking alcohol, but they let us play.” The club have tried, and failed, to find out who owns the land. But no one seems to object to their presence.
OWEN AMOS
NEW CALEDONIA
It’s 8am on a Saturday morning in September, and two games of traditional cricket are in full swing at Stade de N’Du. From the otherwise empty concrete stand there is a flurry of activity from women wearing brightly coloured, calf-length, loose dresses. Thirteen scattered fielders and four batters make up each game: two to hit, two to run. The umpires are men. There is no protective gear, and bats – flat-faced clubs, really – are one metre long. The bowlers come in off two or three paces. The shots are mostly vigorous leg-side flails. With a loud thud, some middle the heavy, fist-sized ball made from the sap of the banyan; others squirt or balloon it into the off side. If the ball slants down leg, the batter tries to connect by flipping her blade behind her legs – a tricky shot for a quick single, at best (even Eoin Morgan hasn’t tried this one). Good hand–eye co-ordination is vital: the ball tends to fall apart, causing dangerously unpredictable bounce. It hurts too. National-team player Noel Sinyeue recalls how supporters once discouraged him from attempting a catch for fear of injury. He held on, and became an instant 16-year-old hero. Cricket was imported to these perfect islands in the south-west Pacific in the mid-19th century by British Protestant missionaries, who tried to convert the naturally competitive Melanesians to the sport as a replacement for more violent pastimes. The game rapidly absorbed indigenous rituals, and the number of registered players has since spiralled to 2,600 in 72 clubs. They field several teams for men, women and youngsters, making cricket one of the most popular New Caledonian sports – popular enough to survive Napoleon III’s annexation of “Nouvelle-Calédonie” in 1853, and 160 years of enduring French jurisdiction. The game is so deeply ingrained in the culture that, some years ago, a New Caledonian brewery chose the silhouette of a female cricketer as the logo for its beer, Adele. Sadly, the beer wasn’t a success. Neither has been international cricket. Although it has been played in New Caledonia for decades, there is a hard core of only around 30 experienced cricketers. In the 2003 Pacific Games, the men’s team suffered one of the heaviest defeats in 50-over cricket, by 468 runs: Papua New Guinea 502 for nine, New Caledonia 34 all out. But the enthusiasts are hopeful that burgeoning partnerships with traditional clubs can help drive New Caledonia to ICC Affiliate status.
NEIL GODDEN
OMAN
Oman’s capital can claim the title of the driest city in the cricket-playing world, traditionally leading to rough and unsafe surfaces. So perhaps it is no surprise that the country’s best-known Arab cricketer, HH Qais bin Khalid Al Said, a cousin of the Sultan, learned the game at Millfield School rather than Muscat. But now Al Emerat, the first fully turf ground in the Sultanate, has been assiduously prepared for the new season. For the first time, fielders will be able to attack the ball, rather than edge in tentatively from the boundary trying to predict bounce and trajectory on scorched-earth ground. Batsmen and bowlers will finally get off matting wickets, and learn to deal with spin and seam. When Oman finished 15th out of 16 at the 2012 World Twenty20 Qualifying tournament, the sports ministry expressed their “deep disappointment”, and enquired why more Omani nationals had not been considered for selection. As in many Gulf states, league matches are often subcontinental corporate affairs between expat semi-professionals – with a single token Omani thrown in to satisfy league membership regulations. Yet Oman has the best record in the Middle East for producing indigenous cricketers: around 200 of the 1,100 regular players in the country are Arabs. Oman is the only country in the region to insist upon three nationals in their representative youth sides from 16 upwards. And, as coaches head into schools, more and more Arab boys and girls are discovering, to their surprise, that this peculiar game is their nation’s most successful international sport.
PAUL BIRD
POLAND
If the players of Warsaw CC are guilty of taking their eye off the ball, it might just be because there’s a nudist beach opposite their ground. Founded in 1994, the club play their matches in the plush surroundings of the Panorama Country Club, a former hangout of British Embassy staff which still oozes old-school tie. And that stiff upper lip has been required at times after the Wał Miedzeszyński beach on the banks of the river Wisła became a popular spot for naturists. The last couple of years have been significant for the growth of cricket in Poland, with the formation of a three-team national league: two clubs come from Warsaw, while Lodz CC have acquired their own ground on the outskirts of Poland’s third-largest city. Cricket has also sprung up in Lublin, and been revived in Krakow and Wroclaw, with tentative plans elsewhere too. For around a decade, there was minimal contact with the rest of European cricket. But in 2008 an XI made up of players of Polish descent, starring auctioneer Adam Franciszek Partridge from BBC antiques show Flog It!, and former Cumberland all-rounder Jimmy Wisniewski, participated in the inaugural Euro Twenty20 tournament at Carmel & District CC in Wales. Four years later, a Poland represent
ative team drawn from the domestic league, including two natives, Szymon Rokicki and Piotr Sochaj, won the 2012 event in Sofia, beating Romania in the final. The presence of Vineet Sinha – who was once clocked at 85mph, and bowled Matt Prior while playing for a Mumbai XI during England’s tour of India in 2008-09 – helped their cause.
TIMOTHY ABRAHAM
ROMANIA
The 2007 World Cup remains, for most cricket lovers, a competition best forgotten – but it captivated one man so profoundly that the future of the game in Europe may change for ever. Gabriel Marin, 53, is a former Romania Under-19 basketball player who, three years after the fall of Nicolae Ceaus¸escu in 1989, set up his own IT company with $500 – much to his family’s despair. Twenty-one years on, Omnilogic is one of the success stories of the Romanian market economy, and its chief executive the archetypal post-Communist self-made man. Marin could afford to send his son, Radu, to Lyceum Alpinum Zuoz, an exclusive international boarding school in Switzerland, where students play cricket in winter on the frozen lake at St Moritz. One holiday in 2007, Radu returned home with tales of wonder about a peculiar English game, and persuaded his father to buy a Sky Sports subscription so he could follow the World Cup in the Caribbean. They sat up all night, watching match after match. “What drew me to cricket is the unarmed combat,” said Gabriel. “The idea that a guy can be batting for six or seven hours, facing a ball every 40 seconds, with no recourse to physical confrontation or arguing with the umpire.”