Ain't No Black in the Cricket Pack

The biggest sporting event in Britain this summer has been England's resurrection from the cricket graveyard. The sport which usually comes a poor third to football and rugby has gripped the nation with the thrilling Ashes series which England last won eighteen years ago, when Ian Botham was the team's star player. I will hazard a sexist opinion here and say that I'm sure a lot of women are really not that interested, even if there is some cricket eye-candy now, such as Michael Vaugh, and special mention to strawberry blonde Andrew Flintoff. But I have a special affection for cricket, as I was often to be found in the playground with the boys wielding a bat (no euphemism intended) or keeping wicket. I found it was a good way to avoid the dreaded kiss-chase. Samantha Wilson should've followed my lead. She never lived down getting 'feel up' by the boys on the grass. Especially as she was at least a foot taller than them, and was the fastest runner in the school.
My teacher in primary school was the PE teacher. He was a progressive sort and 'allowed' me to attend cricket practice, and play in matches. Mr. Aldridge and I got off to a bit of a bad start. I was a bit of a know-it-all, loudmouth, talking all the time over the teacher, 10 year-old. So he naturally hated me. When I got grassed up for smoking in the toilets, he gave me and my Somalian friend Muna, the hairdryer treatment while standing at the front of the class. I guess this didn't help matters. Funny, my mum never did get that letter from him...
But he took the time to discover the child underneath all the chat, and began to rein in my natural tendency for attention-seeking behaviour and channel the energy into my work and sports. I was on every sports team going, and I got top marks in my 11 plus and verbal reasoning tests. By the end of primary school we loved each other, and I was gutted to leave him. He hoped that I would find another teacher in secondary school willing to take the time with me that he did. That teacher was Mrs. Qureshi (nee Butt), my English teacher. A very slim, elegant, Asian woman. Mrs. Qureshi's was the only class worth turning up to school for, and it was like being at Oxford University for the afternoon being in her classroom when she teaching. She really was special, and we were lucky that a teacher of her quality turned up at a school like Hammersmith County/Christopher Wren, infamous for being one of the worst schools in London. A school where a female deputy head was once stabbed by a female pupil - but to her credit she didn't leave, and we were mored scared of her than the headteacher. I saw the male deputy head get beaten up in the playground once - but to be honest he was a lech, so I didn't feel sorry for him. Always touching up the busty white girls in my year - he never touched the black girls though, funny that!
But yeah, primary school, and living in a Caribbean household instilled an understanding of cricket, and many an afternoon was spent watching the once great Windies batter England. Hahaha. Now years later, I find myself sitting on the edge of my seat willing England to beat Shane 'the cocky, can't keep it in his pants' Warne's Aussies. But one little thought burrows into my consciousness...WHERE ARE THE BROTHERS? Where are the black folk, Asians, mixed-race, Chinese? Where are they? I know nuff brothers that played the game, and come on, brothers can run fast, bowl, and lash a ball cross-field - it ain't that hard? Where dem dey? England are fielding an all-white team. Absolutely no nigras. It ain't right. Look at the England football team, okay they ain't winners yet, but how can that be the case in 2005 that the England cricket team don't have one person of colour? It don't look right, and it don't smell right. I'll still cheer them, and support them, but questions need to be put to the appropriate people.
The last match in the series will be held at The Oval cricket ground, which is minutes from my house. I ran past it the other week. It really is magnificent, and it's in my backyard. I'll be able to hear the roars from my garden, and as long as they don't choke, I'm sure WHEN England win, the celebrations will last all night. And I'll be out there celebrating with them. It's not often England win something, so everyone should take time to enjoy that feeling. Even if brothers ain't yet got a look in.
p.s - Twenty-year old Isa Guha, an Asian woman is part of the England women's cricket team. England are playing Australia in the women's Ashes. They haven't won it for 42 years. Who knew they'd been playing that long?