Follow up to 'Old Supporter'

It is very sad to see how cricket in state schools has declined.

When I was at school, we had upper and lower school elevens, which I always got into because we had played cricket when I was at primary school. I was lucky in that respect, as others hadn't, but our state secondary school had two cricket squares and there was an annual Staff v School game which was watched by the rest of the school. The weather was always good and the occasion was special. There was even an inter-house tournament for both lower and upper school, usually won by my house because we had around half of the school first eleven! 

They were golden days and we would play one midweek evening after school and on Saturday mornings. That often presented logistical challenges in finishing before an afternoon club game and being able to get there, but I managed it. 

When I started my first professional job, in a state school outside Glasgow,  I was determined to start a cricket team.  We had only blaes hockey and football pitches and both coaching and practice took place on there, using rubber wind/air balls to replicate the bounce, if not the feel when catching, when we used cricket balls. In the winter we would play games and work on strokes and defence in the gym hall on a Monday evening. 

There were some natural talents and something to work with. Two who bowled quickly, one who bowled remarkably good off spin and a medium pacer whose Dad was a cricket professional. Yet he wasn't the best player. 

That first year we played in a state school six -a-side tournament at a local cricket club. The wicket was best described as 'dodgy' and having progressed serenely to the final, we were all out for 18 in it. The master of the other team was jubilant, cocky. Less so when we bowled his team out for five.. 

After that year I could only find public school opposition for them, as there was no interest in the state sector. In the five years I took the side, taking the boys through school, they beat them all, frequently. Seven of them featured in a Glasgow Schools Select against their Edinburgh equivalent. 

After that? One went on to play for Scotland B as wicket-keeper batsman, while a quick bowler took a lot of wickets in club cricket but packed it in after one season when they told him to bowl 'line and length'. Why? Few could bowl at his pace and it should have been encouraged. I suspect he was too quick for ageing hands in the slips. 

One moved to South Africa with his family, three went away to university but never played again. One of them had the best arm I have ever seen on a schoolboy, flat bullet throws from the boundary that got as many victims as the bowlers. 

The other two? They got jobs in teaching and themselves started school sides. Which was gratifying, as after I left the school it never had another cricket team, the cricket equipment disposed of. 

The nicest thing? Last month I bumped into one of the side's lesser lights who I hadn't seen in years, a mustard-keen fielder but only moderate bat, who couldn't bowl for all his attempts to do so. 

He told me that those school days had given him a lifelong love of cricket. He had been on overseas supporter tours, was a regular at Test matches and loved going to Lord's. 

At the end of the day, perhaps that is the greatest success of all, a lad from a fairly ordinary, non-cricket background getting into the game. 

But how many more don't? My passion for the game saw me start teams wherever I worked over the years, but there are no state schools playing the game around Glasgow and they haven't for thirty years now. One ground we played at regularly has knee-deep weeds, returned to a farmer's field. 

There are plenty of cricket clubs doing sterling work with young people, but the drop out figures are high, because girlfriends, further education and lack of opportunity take their toll. I stopped playing for a while when I met my now wife, reasoning that trips to Aberdeen or Stranraer didn't fit well with dating. I went back to it when we married, but many don't. For less talented but enthusiastic youngsters, batting ten and eleven and running around the boundary is no more fun than it is for an adult. 

Which leads to a cautionary tale. One local club we played had three excellent players who scored all the runs and did most of the bowling. For a couple of years they were all happy, winning a trophy or two, then they started to struggle to field a side. The less talented opted to spend Saturdays and Sundays with their families, rather than watch the same three guys do it all, while they sat awaiting opportunity. 

The club folded. 

Conversely, in nine years as club captain at my village club, the top six batted, the bottom five bowled. The places changed each week and the skill was having numbers 6-8 as players who could do both, plus being aware of opposition strength. Playing a good team it made sense to give them the best game. But most weeks everyone went home having had the opportunity to do something, even if they were out first ball. In nine years I never fielded less than eleven and the fun environment attracted visiting Australians, New Zealanders and South Africans, who improved the standard . One burly South African from the Free State bowled howitzers from a two-pace run, endangering toes, wickets, gloves and wicket-keeper. 

One who played occasionally was Glenn Rogers, an Australian from Brisbane who played for  Scotland and had trials with Derbyshire, playing alongside Wayne Madsen and Chesney Hughes in his second team debut. 

His return to our colours after the World Cup saw his first ball of left arm spin go for byes, bringing an immediate apology from Martin, my long-time friend and the wicketkeeper. 

'Sorry skip, I was just thinking that the bloke I was keeping to was bowling at Ricky Ponting last week - and forgot to stop it...' 

Win, lose or draw it was and is a wonderful game. It shouldn't be solely the preserve of the naturally talented.. 

Which is what I said to a talented lad from the local county side who played for us in one game. Berating a player who dropped a second catch, he kicked the ground in despair and called him a 'useless (blank)' 

I put my arm around his shoulders as he walked slowly back to his mark. Then told him that the 'useless (blank)' was the reason he had a game. He cut the outfield, prepared, cut and rolled the wicket then set up the scoreboard.  He would play every week, didn't do much on the field, but was massively important to the club. 

The ones who follow its history, statistics, characters and nuances are important. So too the ones who do the teas, sell raffle tickets, write press reports and bring in sponsors. 

All the better for that too. It is, literally, life-changing. 

Yet the ECB still reckoned that 'involvement' needed a crazy, costly new tournament. 

It just needed more investment in grass roots. With opportunity comes interest. 

Postscript: the photo at the top is of the Staff v School match in 1976. Yours truly seated on the extreme right of the front row. Seven of the staff side played good club cricket and yes, they beat us.