Something to declare

In this Ashes summer let’s not forget cricket’s grassroots - here one former player recalls the highs, and occasional lows, of the village game

They say football is the beautiful game but I’m not so sure. Can there be a nicer summer tableau than the sun bathing a neatly mown, tree-lined cricket field with players dressed in white pursuing the timeless struggle between ball and willow?

In the background might be the murmur of conversation, maybe even some birdsong if you are playing deep in the countryside. But if this depiction of a perfect world was a record we would now get to the bit where the needle is rudely yanked from the vinyl. To get to the essence of real village cricket ‘

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(and I don’t mean the smell from the underside of your boots when you retrieve the ball from a cow field) you really have to experience the game. It means playing in all conditions and on all sorts of grounds. You can be shivering in the slips during early season or basking in the heat of mid summer.

I’ve played in lovely Suffolk parkland at Nowton, Horringer, Melton, Edwardstone and Exning; on immaculate surfaces at Ampton (with a mighty thatched pavilion in one corner) and the long gone, billiard table smooth Bury Rail ground. Copdock CC’s home, near Marks Tey, had a tree between the wicket and the boundary and part of Bury Sugar Beet’s outfield had such a slope on it, trying to cut off any boundaries was all but futile.

A particular favourite was Twinstead, pretty much the quintessential village cricket ground on the Suffolk/Essex border. A large country house and gardens in one corner, a pond in another and all along one side, a fruit orchard. Culford School’s pitch is also in a delightful setting and, thankfully, they haven’t replaced their slightly rickety old thatched pavilion with a characterless brick changing room.

In truth East Anglia’s mainly flat topography means it can’t really rival other parts of Britain when it comes to really photogenic places for cricket. That said, matches at Holkham Hall in Norfolk are played out against the magisterial backdrop of the Palladian-style hall, with team teas that include crayfish tail sandwiches and impressive gateaus prepared by the estate cafe. Not far away at Snettisham the architecturally acclaimed St Mary’s Church overlooks the state of play while in north Essex players perform in front of the stately mansion that is Audley End House. Since this setting, and the accompanying grounds, have been designed by Capability Brown it’s no wonder touring teams want to visit here.

Does village cricket still have its characters? It’s an idiosyncratic game so I’d like to think so. I recall an elderly Sudbury GP, a rather rheumatic player, who used to lob his off breaks ridiculously high inviting batsmen to slog.

Change of ends: An alternative view of Holkham Hall’s cricket pitch showing the 120 foot Thomas Coke Monument

Sometimes they would hit a six, sometimesafter a mighty swish and a cloud of dust - they faced the ignominity of broken stumps or a skied catch.

Meanwhile I knew a quick bowler and useful batsman (far too good to be playing low grade village cricket) who used to go out to field finishing a cigarette and once set fire to his trouser pocket while fielding in the slips.

Edwardstone had a player with a tin leg so that any leg byes were accompanied by a clanking sound. A septuagenarian Babraham player took an age to walk to the wicket, his flannels done up with an old MCC tie rather than a belt.

A septuagenarian Babraham player took an age to walk to the wicket, his flannels done up with an old MCC tie rather than a belt.

Another quite portly player used to occasionally take slip catches with some help from his billowing, over-sized jumper.

And once, after our team captain got struck on the ear batting against the Ipswich Caribbeans, as next man in I took guard in a small pool of blood.

I don’t know what was worse; the possibility of being hit by a fast bowler’s bouncer or the fear of failure. Anyone who has played the game knows it can be particularly cruel as well as rewarding. In most other sports you get another chance - a second serve in tennis, umpteen shots in golf, opportunities to shoot, pass or tackle in football.

In cricket once you are dismissed that’s it. And it might not even be your fault if your batting partner runs you out. There’s also the further shame of having your score (or non-score) printed in the local newspaper. Full scorecards are not published these days but many’s the time a

Howzat! Chestnut playing its part - see overleaf colleague would sidle up and say, “didn’t trouble the scorers at the weekend then.”

So in the coming weeks, as Ben Stokes and Bazball collide with Aussie grit and aggression, spare a thought for a more genteel variation of the game being played on a village green or park near you.

If you think the duel between bat and ball is akin to watching paint dry you probably haven’t reached this final paragraph - however, if you have stayed the course, you may, like me, think it is our greatest national sport.

John Boughton

“We are very proud to be associated with The Weeping Willow where we have enjoyed their kind support for many years. The team especially love the superb, convivial surroundings for our after-match drinks, together with our opponents.”

Ralph