The early history of cricket

The possible origin of cricket

How did cricket begin? One thought is that English shepherds with nothing better to do used their crooks (long sticks with a bent-over handle at one end) to hit lumps of wool or stones to see how far they would go. One shepherd would toss a “ball” towards another who held his crook upside down and the latter would give it a bash. The “bowler” or his mates might then try to see if they could catch the wool or stone before it hit the ground.

It’s just a possibility, with no proof one way or the other!

However, there is also evidence that the idea came from children who liked hitting things with sticks, and it was several centuries before adults realised that they could make a proper game out of it.

Cricket first appears in writing in 1598 in a court case relating to schoolboys playing “creckett” (which does not sound a million miles away from “crook it” - see above). In 1611 there was a case in Sussex in which two men were prosecuted for playing the game on a Sunday, so it had clearly progressed from being a children’s pastime by this date.

Cricket matches

By the end of the 17^th century the game had been formalised to the extent that matches were being played for high-stake wagers, and this was to be a familiar feature of cricket in the years to come.

It is known that a proper match was played at Sevenoaks in Kent in 1734. The bats were curved, the wicket consisted of two uprights and a single bail, the bowling was underarm and the “score” was literally that – notches scored on a piece of wood.

Cricket clubs were formed by landed gentry who sometimes took part in matches themselves but who mainly created teams from their estate workers, for whom this was a welcome form of recreation. The team owners would bet huge sums of money on the outcome of matches, and they were not above adopting underhand methods to get the result they wanted. There were frequent disputes about what was allowed on the field (and what was “not cricket”), so the need arose for an agreed rulebook.

The Marylebone Cricket Club

The laws of cricket were first codified and written down in 1744, being amended in 1774. The men who created the laws formed themselves into the Marylebone Cricket Club in 1787, Marylebone being a district of London near Regent’s Park. They started playing in Dorset Square on land that had been acquired by one of their members, Thomas Lord.

When the lease on Dorset Square expired in 1810, Thomas Lord found two other suitable sites for a cricket ground, a little to the north in St John’s Wood, but one of them was requisitioned by the government in 1813 as part of the route of the Regent’s Canal. The other site, however, continued in use and has always been known as Lord’s Cricket Ground and “the home of cricket”.

Somewhat confusingly, Lord’s is today not only the headquarters of Marylebone Cricket Club but also the Middlesex County side. However, the initials MCC refer to the original Marylebone club that is still the guardian of the laws of cricket.

Mention should also be made of a club that was formed in the mid-18th century on the Hampshire downs at Hambledon, north of Portsmouth. This club acquired a reputation for honesty and fair play and it was the custodian of the traditions and reputation of the game prior to the founding of the MCC. Matches are still played on the same pitch today, more than 250 years later.

© John Welford

Comparing American football with soccer

Leaving aside the fact that, to a Brit, soccer and football are one and the same, it still has to be said that there really is no comparison. The two sports have hardly anything in common with each other. Indeed, of the three codes of football played in England, Wales and Scotland, Rugby League comes closest to the American code. What Americans call soccer is miles away!

The first thing to be said is that soccer is a sport that is worth watching, whereas American football is not. If you go to a soccer match you are likely to be entertained to a thrilling spectacle of skill, drama and action, played with little interruption. The benighted souls who think that American football is worth watching will spend half their time waiting for something to happen, and the other half wondering where the ball is. American football is notorious for its interruptions, with a typical game lasting up to an hour longer than the playing time, whereas stoppages in soccer are unlikely to last longer than three or four minutes per half.

The second main difference is that “football”, in the American sense, is a complete misnomer. Contact between foot and ball is extremely rare. Mind you, referring to a “touchdown” is another nonsense. At least in rugby the ball is actually touched down before a score is counted.

However, back to the feet. It is the most natural thing in the world, if a round ball comes in your direction, to kick it. The second most natural thing is to kick it in a particular direction, and to express joy if the ball ends up where you wanted it to go, for you to achieve your goal, if you like. If you play with a friend, they can try to stop the ball hitting the wall or going between the two coats you have dropped on the ground. If more friends turn up, with more coats, you can set up another goal, and those friends can try to kick the ball the other way. Hey, chaps, we’ve just invented footie (sorry, “soccer”).

What I am trying to say is that soccer is a totally natural game that can be played anywhere, any time with the minimum of equipment. Kids play football in the back alleys of Lancashire towns, in the favelas of San Paulo and the townships of Jo’Burg. Indeed, that is where some of the world’s greatest players started out, honing their natural skills with training and hard work.

Surely nobody could claim that there is anything natural about American football. It is a total invention, codified to a virtual standstill as players troop on and off the field with monotonous regularity, “plays” last a matter of seconds, and officials use tapes to check how far the ball has gone.

Another massive difference between the codes is that, although the American version is extremely popular in the States, and to some extent in Canada, nobody else is remotely interested in it. The rest of the World plays soccer.

Every four years the World Cup features teams from literally every land surface on the planet (OK, I forgot about Antarctica, sorry!) and an American national team has appeared on several occasions, although with only limited success.

By playing sports internationally, we learn to appreciate and respect each other. If your national sports are only played within your borders, you cut yourself off from the rest of the world, and lose respect as a result. It is noticeable that the US women’s soccer squad has been much more successful internationally, presumably because women are not diverted into playing American football. There’s surely a lesson to be learned there.

There have been moves to export American sports to the rest of the world, but with only limited success. The rest of us prefer racing drivers to turn in more than one direction, we think cricket is far superior to baseball, and that the American version of football is not a patch on the other codes. We would love you to join us on the playing field, because we want to get to know you better. But this won’t happen if you still insist on playing to different rules!

© John Welford

American sports are so boring!

I’ll come clean at the outset – I’m not an American. I therefore expect to be shot down in flames at having the appalling nerve to even hint at the suggestion that American sports might not be perfect in every possible respect – indeed, I’d be disappointed if that didn’t happen!

But the fact still remains – American sports ARE boring! At least, when compared with their equivalents (or near-equivalents) on my side of the Pond.

For starters, it has always struck me as odd that, at least as far as team sports are concerned, Americans don’t care to play with anyone else. OK – they claim to play “soccer” up to a point, but they’re not really any good at it (apart from the women, that is), and they much prefer their version of “football” – the one where foot and ball only rarely make any connection. The problem here is that hardly anyone outside America is remotely interested in playing the same game.

Which brings me back to my original point – the rest of us don’t play American football because we find the other codes much more exciting to play and to watch. There was a match played in London a few months ago between two professional American teams. I watched the highlights on television, and it seemed to me that the closest we get to it over here is Rugby League – the version of the running-ball game played mostly in the north of England (and in Australia, New Zealand and South Africa). This is where a tackled player retains the ball and is allowed to pass it back, unimpeded, to a team-mate, unlike in Union rules where the ball must be released.

In both codes of rugby there is plenty of scope for free running, passing and skilful ball play and tackling. But in the American game I watched, the same thing seemed to be happening over and over again – a second or two of action followed by everything coming to a grinding halt. We even had the absurd spectacle of a couple of officials running on to the field with a tape measure to check whether the ball had really travelled ten yards! And when the ball was lost to the other side, everyone trooped off the field and another lot of players came on!

But it’s not just on the football field that the boredom factor is so much to the fore. For one thing, American sports watchers don’t seem to be able to concentrate for more than five minutes at a time, so they don’t protest at the constant interruptions in play for team talks, be it in basketball, ice hockey or whatever. In what sense is all this actually interesting?

Moving to Summer, we can compare baseball with cricket, both of which involve a man (let’s not be too sexist here, women play as well!) with a bat hitting a ball that has been propelled in his (or her) direction. But at this point the comparison falls down, because in baseball you only seem to have one aim in mind, which is to hit the thing as far and as high as you can, and nine times out of ten the attempt ends in failure. The cricket batsman has a huge variety of strokes he can play, depending on the type of delivery he is facing - fast, slow, straight, swinging, pitched long or short, reaching him at ground level or head high, etc – and on how he is standing to receive the ball, where the fielders are placed, whether the state of the game requires attack or defence, and a whole lot more. Baseball players can be dismissed in only three ways it seems – failing to hit the ball, being run out, and being caught out. Cricket offers five common methods and a number of rarer ones, which makes for much more variety. There’s a whole lot more to be said that proves my point, but that should be enough to be going on with for now!

Then take the American versions of horse and motor racing. In Europe and elsewhere, races take place on a huge variety of courses, with twists and turns in all directions, hills up and hills down, requiring the riders and drivers to exercise considerable skill in getting the best out their mounts and vehicles. But in America? Round and round they go, always turning in the same direction, never varying from one course to another. Where on earth is the fun in watching that?

Moving indoors, look at the infinite subtleties of snooker when seen alongside the wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am of pool! Snooker is a marvellous game, with its contrast between break-building and safety play, the clever ways in which players can get their opponents into trouble or escape from it, and the drama of a player very occasionally being able to pot fifteen reds, fifteen blacks and all the colours to achieve the ultimate 147 break. And what has pool got to offer in exchange? A bash into the pack, a bit of luck as to which ball gets potted first, a short break of eight balls maximum, and it’s all over. Little variety, hardly any subtlety, and all finished in five minutes or less!

I honestly believe that most watchers of sport in America think that they are getting a good deal, but I also think they’re being short-changed. Try watching some trans-Atlantic sport some time – you’d be amazed at how much better it is. We don’t need cheerleaders to keep you interested – what happens on the pitch or the track is quite enough to keep you on the edges of your seats!

© John Welford