Category Archives: Club cricket

Jack Leach’s simplicity and specialisation is vital for England’s balance

Amid all the loud noise of a World Cup-winning Ashes summer, a back-to-basics approach is needed to help an England side violently swinging from meteoric highs to hysterical lows.

Watching England can be bad for your health. 

This summer, I’ve sat through a World Cup final and super over, seen England bowled out for 85 and 67. I’ve watched Jofra Archer arrive, Ireland bowled out for 38, and THAT Ben Stokes century at Headingley. 

There doesn’t seem to be a bridge between horrendous collapses and supernatural individual brilliance and it’s completely unsustainable.

It’s the result of a lack of concentration and focus.

Major elements of the Test side that played in that World Cup team, have struggled, bar Ben Stokes and Jofra Archer. 

Jason Roy’s selection has been a catastrophe, with just 57 runs versus Australia.

Joe Root, has scored two ducks and two unconverted fifties while Jonny Bairstow is averaging 20.50 in 2019, down from a below-par 30.45 last year. 

Jos Buttler has been practically non-existent in this Test side, averaging 19.41 this year, down on his already poor Test record of 32.90.

It’s almost like importing ODI stars into Test cricket won’t work if they can’t adapt their games in a short space of time. 

What has worked, has been Rory Burns, a Test specialist scoring a century in the first Test and a fifty in the second. 

Ben Stokes decided not to play against Ireland, but took a break to settle his mind, and scored two back-to-back tons. 

Archer didn’t face Ireland either, or play in the first Test of the Ashes, and everyone can see his impact. 

What has worked also, is Jack Leach, a 28-year-old who has never played a T20 and has only 16 List A games to date. 

He has focussed on being England’s Test spinner, and has helped give composure for the format.

The reality, is England have been looking for a ‘proper’ spinner since Graeme Swann’s retirement. 

Moeen Ali has been the custodian with 181 wickets at an average over 36, which isn’t terrible. But so far, in seven Tests, Leach has 25 wickets at an average of 25. 

England fans have been screaming out for someone like Leach. 

And what’s the first thing that happens after Headingley? He is dubbed a ‘village cricketer’.

 He responded to the ‘village’ remark, saying it was: 

“… probably because I look like a village cricketer out there in my glasses, the bald head – maybe people think ‘that could be me!’ All the others look pretty professional.”

Fans know he isn’t a superhuman athlete, as he cleans his glasses between deliveries. We know he doesn’t have 15 variations or an unusual action that bamboozles people. 

Leach is an Orthodox spinner that will do a job, and as a specialist, he can hone his game in the format and become more refined and effective. 

Every team needs a mixture of mavericks and workhorses, and in Jack Leach, England may have the perfect counter-balance to the crash-bang-wallop of Stokes and lightning pace of Archer.

A pinch of ordinariness to keep the immortals in check. 

The vicious circle killing club cricket

This year has been the hardest for me in terms of playing cricket, almost to the point where I’ve considered not playing.

It’s sad for me to say, but I don’t look forward to getting the whites on anymore. I don’t relish getting onto the field, because when push comes to shove – I’m just not that good, and I can admit it.

I’ve never been that good, but now it seems to matter, where previously it didn’t.

I work hard at improving, but really, I’m a bog-standard seam bowler with little consistency. I can’t catch, and I’ve never hit more than 20 with the bat.

Yet for so long, players like me played cricket in spite of a lack of ability.
We fielded poorly, getting a bit better each year, nipped in with the odd wicket, occasionally did something great, then turned up at winter nets to have a chat in February.

But there is an increasing pressure at this base level of club cricket, which has been eroding recreational players’ place in the game.

In the last decade, participation has gone down steadily due to a number of reasons.

No doubt cost is one, weather another, the fact that cricket is no longer on free-to-air TV is certainly up there, and probably, the prevalence of T20, offering fans regular high-octane action to feast on.

There were roughly 430,000 club cricketers in 2008, and in 2015-16, this had plummeted to below 280,000, according to http://www.statista.com, which is almost half of what it was 20 years ago. Admittedly, I saw other stats flying around, talking about recreational club cricketers being in the millions. I certainly haven’t found evidence so far.

As the numbers of players reduce, clubs are forced to downsize, and in turn opportunities dwindle for fringe players such as myself.

Instead of there being three elevens, like there was in my local side when I first started, there’s now only one eleven.

That one eleven plays only on Sunday in a league, which means if I play, I don’t bowl. I’m way down the pecking order. And more often than not, I don’t get to play, full stop.

This is a damaging chicken-and-egg situation.

The more recreational players that stop playing because they no longer get a proper game, the lower chance there is for fringe players like me, to get a game at all; as clubs have less players to chose from, week-in-week-out, in the long term.

This vicious circle makes it increasingly harder to grow local clubs and attract players.

The options for a player like me, is to have uncertain playing time, if I commit to my regular club. Or to not play, and contribute to the decline of participation in club cricket, or I guess, to go elsewhere; severing ties to friends I’ve made over the last 10 years.

In reality, I am just a domino.
I’m one person, in a long line of recreational players, who have reached a point where they don’t feel it’s worth playing.

This isn’t meant to be a self-indulgent sob story, but unless something is done to incentivise clubs to keep fringe players like me, struggling clubs will only struggle more, as recreational cricketers drop off the radar.

For now, I am not going to give up. I love playing cricket, even if at times it’s the most frustrating thing in the world. But I know of so many people who have, and even more are considering it, and there is a certain sense of inevitability, that at some point, it may be me.