A remembrance of things past

While the English weather does its best to hold Australia to a draw, a surprising number of Englishmen seem genuinely willing to hazard playing for a proper result in the third Test of this year’s Ashes series. For despite the well-remembered humiliations last time it went Down Under, English cricket has regained its self-belief and the national side now finds itself 1-0 up on the Aussies and with all the momentum in its favour. The grounds are filled to capacity and each game is being watched by huge television audiences. As if this were not enough, the personal dramas of Flintoff and Pietersen have again become part of the national conversation just as Beckham and Rooney used to be. At times the enthusiasm is enough to tempt even the most jaded West Indies supporter into believing that we too could manage this sort of resurrection.

The BBC recently broadcast a wonderful documentary series which looked at how the great cricketing nations have developed their particular styles. The Empire of Cricket showed repeatedly how a country’s political identity expressed itself in cricket. When, for example, in the most notorious episode so far, the English team captained by Douglas Jardine realised that they couldn’t outplay Don Bradman legitimately, they devised ‘leg theory’ bowling – better known as ‘bodyline’ bowling – in order to win back the Ashes at all costs. All pretence of playing by the rules yielded to the national imperative to keep the colonial upstarts in their place. This disgraceful violation of the spirit of the game was, of course, ironically recycled as self righteous criticism many years later when the English found themselves on the wrong side of aggressive fast bowling meted out by Clive Lloyd’s incomparable quartet.

The BBC’s hour-long retrospective on West Indies cricket was a painful reminder of how far we have fallen. After the elegance of Constantine, Worrell and Sobers, and the obvious joy they took in the game, what passes for West Indies cricket now looks so brash and unimaginative. More than a decade ago Prof Hillary Beckles pointed out, presciently, that one of the primary reasons for Brian Lara’s failure to lead the West Indies back to its former glory was simply that he had no larger purpose to guide him. For earlier captains cricket had meant something more than trophies and money, but in the 1990s, when sports television networks were eager for individuals who could be turned into global brands, teamwork simply wasn’t that relevant to the pursuit of a glamorous sporting career.

Worrell carried the hopes of self-governance with him, Lloyd ushered in the era of professional cricket, Richards was driven by Black nationalism. But when these larger stories faded away in the context of the globalised marketplace, Lara and other individual stars had little to fall back on. Without the deep, historical reserves of national pride that motivated England, Australia and India – especially when sporting honour is at stake – Beckles argued that West Indies cricket was doomed to mediocrity. Once Lloyd’s magnificent eleven began to retire, or seek their wages elsewhere, the idea of the West Indies team lost its meaning. With no larger point to prove, it devolved into a group of self-interested individuals who put personal careers ahead of everything else.

In some ways American baseball has deteriorated along similar lines. As the money in Major League baseball mushroomed out into multi-million dollar contracts, teamwork quickly took a backseat to market forces as players chased the kinds of statistics that made them into lucrative and tradeable commodities. Home run records, for example. Faced with the pressure to do well at all costs, many players have simply cheated.

Earlier this week the New York Times disclosed that  two of the more charismatic Boston Red Sox players had tested positive for drugs in 2003, shortly before they led their team to historic World Series victories. David Ortiz and Manny Ramirez are said to be part of a list of more than 100 players who tested positive for performance enhancing drugs. Other suspected drug users include several of the modern game’s best hitters (Barry Bonds, Alex Rodriguez, Mark McGwire) and Roger Clemens, arguably its best pitcher. Outside of baseball there have been all too many instances of an equal obsession with individual performances. In recent years dozens of sporting icons – in track and field, cycling, swimming, weightlifting, and other sports – have decided to use drugs rather than risk losing their perch at the top of the game. There are few indications that this attitude will change any time soon.
In this year’s Ashes, Australia may well regroup and inflict another painful defeat on England, but the final result is largely beside the point. Whatever the reasons – central contracts, better training, familiarity,  experience, self-belief – England has managed to produce a team that can live up to the hopes and dreams of millions of fans, and so has Australia. For those of us who can only remember the days when the West Indies team still represented us with comparable ferocity, the drama of the Ashes is an occasion for nostalgia and envy.