ABSTRACT

The World Cup in 2007 will confirm a growing trend in recent years: that cricket is being played by an increasing number of nations, proselytes of a game which is seemingly breaking out of the provincial nexus of ‘Commonwealth’ countries. But the rise of cricket’s stature in countries with rival sporting codes, domestic instability and infrastructural problems reveals a paradox. [ 1 ] The new teams, the converts, bring with them a host of problems for the traditionalists. Supporters of cricket want a good press, a broader audience base sated with the logo-filled hours of one-day cricket, abbreviated numbers of overs and rapid scoring rates. But within cricket’s hierarchy – more specifically, former players accustomed to the stratospheric standards of Test class cricket – are worries that standards are being eroded, the values of the game challenged by new sides who have yet to prove their mettle against teams of ‘greater’ worth. The sentiment, while understandable, defies the logic of spreading the game. It also denies the problem confronting the fundamental tenets of playing cricket, a refusal to acknowledge the evolutionary character of a sport that is gradually extricating itself from the narrow confines of colonial memories and legacies.