So we’ll be back, alright, but when? We just don’t know.
Let’s face it, there are a zillion things we can’t and don’t know at the moment. Please god that doesn’t mean untold stress and outright fear for too many of YOU. For me, it’s kinda fine, or rather more odd than scary, so far. Odd-arousing, ‘cos so-o extraordinary – and so consuming.
I’m well though, apparently, and so is the family – even the 92 year-old father-in-law and his 80-something year-old wife and my own 83 year-old ma. They’re all fine. To be honest, not asking for much more than that, currently. Why would I?
I get that many folks are either raw scared of the demon virus, or concerned about implications around work. I’m neither, but this is not to say that those things are immutable, or that the Walton family are going to be blasé about anything, or that I’m entirely free of doubts. This is a startling, extraordinary, medium-selectively dangerous doubt-fest, is it not?
My wife is right at this moment trying – battling, rather – to keep her yoga classes going, online, via Facebook Live. It’s going pret-ty well, I think, except for some angsty moments around punters signing in and the perennial issue at our gaff of absolutely pitiful wifi. (Have myself nipped next door to await a techno-wotsit Team Gathering, because there’s no way we could both be online for important stuff at the same time: next door is a second home and yes I do have permission).
Spent hours, ultimately, fannying about with iPad, phone and this, my wife’s secondhand Mac, whilst failing crucifyingly-painfully to join a meeting. Then more hours – I kid you not – trying to download Google Chrome, so as to offer the teeniest hope of success for the next internet fiasco. But I digress… and I’m leaking energy on stuff I hate… and this is not good. The point is, we’ve never had to do this stuff before.
My own work, right at the moment of maximum kaboom – going full-on into schools to try to entertain and capture children for cricket – is stalled, to put it mildly. Schools shut; all cricket on hold. There will be admin to do and planning – well up for all that. Plus the ‘creative thinking’ that’s so ubiquitous in team emails as the corona curve launches towards vertical. But Proper Work? Minimal, for the foreseeable.
So, for me, existential questions and practical dinkie-doos rather than medical urgencies. How are we supposed to feel about this? (Differently, I guess, like about everything else). In the face of corona-wireless – and therefore meaning-shift – is it okay to ‘carry on?’ Is it okay to loaf about a bit, consider all options and think about daft stuff like cricket? Write about it, even? Is that an acceptable way to Fill The Void? Maybe if I add rather swiftly that I want to work, I’m old-school work-ethic-tastic and proud of that?
My old man was a magnificently honest plodder and so too, my grandpa and to me it just feels right to pour in some honest, blokey graft, to whatever. Genuinely hope I can continue to do that for our cricket community – put in ‘a shift’, something that can make a difference, feel worthwhile, feel legitimately real to me. And if my hours at that coal-face are reduced then like most of the universe I’ll be all over the domestic chores: bathroom, kitchen, garage, garden: whirlwind, incoming. I’ll commit heavily to something.
But what of cricket and the larger picture? All Stars and Dynamos (the two major projects I have been/would have been working towards, as a Community Cricket Coach) will be either delayed or possibly cancelled entirely, for the season. That’s not just personally gutting, that’s potentially really significant in terms of stalling the *powerful progress* we’ve been making around bringing ‘new children’ and ‘new families’ into the game.
*In case you’re wondering, we really have been providing the local grassroots game – Pembrokeshire/Carmarthenshire/Swansea – with a proper boost. Uptake into junior leagues from U9s to U11s in particular (that is, the entry levels for organised games, from softball festivals to hardball cricket) has spiked strongly upwards over the last two years. This is unquestionably largely the result of Community Coaches working in schools and signposting children over to local clubs. Of course many of the clubs have been fabulously pro-active in this process… but some have not. Kids have joined in, anyway.
If the last para sounds like some sort of sales pitch then sorry but tough. It’s not – that’s not its purpose. Not everything (in fact few things of any real import or value) are measurable, but the arrival of new kids and new teams into cricket leagues is closely tracked, inevitably, by Cricket Development Officers. Numbers are up, so the opportunity might be there to build a bright, bulkier future for junior cricket across Wales.
Of course bigger isn’t always better. And bigger can’t happen unless clubs can accommodate. And, clearly, corona pain-in-the-anus might well challenge the notion of survival, for many clubs, never mind the possibility for growth. So doubts, or yes – challenges.
After a prolonged period of (probably) no revenue, how do clubs go on?
Will we get the green light to gather again whist we still have some weather?
If not, will the hit the ECB take stymie or stall the recovery across the game? How do we choose what gets funded, in the aftermath of carnage?
How much of any of this anyway, is ultimately about dosh?
If money/funding/strategy really are critical, how much help can the ECB, Cricket Wales, Sport Wales or any other partner offer?
No idea – yet.
Contentiously… do we think that they will be trying to help the stuff that we care about? What will the priorities be?
Are the huge implications around the professional game so mind-boggling and cash-gobbling that the small potatoes, the All Stars, the Dynamos, the clubs are going to be Item 74b on the agenda?
Can’t speak for any of those aforementioned bodies, not even the one I work directly for, except to say that every individual I know at Cricket Wales is already psyching themselves up for an irresistible surge back from whatever it is we’re in. A weird, thunderously heavy stall? A brutal re-set? A death-throw? Who cares about the labels, the sequencing, the minutiae of this thing? Because there’s no perspective that ain’t scary, we’re surely liberated? We can get that full-throated roar going. We can charge out there and smash it.
How? Why? Know what, I think that’s simple. Because great people, in clubs. Because your 72 year-old scorer and our 71 year-old groundsman. Because we see the coronascumbag and we choose to deny it – though we recognise its temporary hold.
We deny not out of arrogance or through strategy but via a love of the game that will keep us (and it) alive. For I’m guessing it won’t be money that keeps either grassroots cricket or the professional game afloat, not really. It will be a relative small number of stalwarts, who ‘do everything’, who, despite being in the cross-hairs of this disease, will be quietly invincible.
So it might be irresponsible, indulged, delusional. It might be plain wrong. But I genuinely think that cricket – o-kaaay, maybe I’m talking about club cricket, the soul of cricket – will come through this relatively unchanged and unharmed. This is not to say that we won’t lose some soulbrothers and sisters along the way, or that profound adjustments and brutal cancellations aren’t going to happen: they are. But, like other sports, we just have the people, right?