There is a lot that’s wrong with cricket at the moment. The longest and oldest format is in a painful death spiral. Franchise leagues are cannibalising the game as the entire ecosystem teeters on collapse. James Vince’s cover drive is still not a regular feature of the England national side.
But if I held all the power and could change only one thing about the sport I love it would be this: I’d make it easier – much easier – to purchase vintage cricket shirts.
I know that’s a pretty selfish desire, like wasting three genie wishes on material acquisitions when eradicating world hunger was an option. But I can’t help it. Acquiring old sports gear satiates me in a way that only a fellow collector could understand. There’s the nostalgia; jerseys from past decades act as time machines. Simply touching the frayed fabric transports you to a moment in history as your vision is flooded with images from a distant age. A run-out 25 years old. A catch from before you were born.
Then of course, there’s the sense of ownership. Mark McKinley, the late American psychologist and university professor, who also held the official world record for most clocks owned, said that “people who collect ‘things’ are at the apex of consumerism.” He argued that the “aristocratic collectors” of the 18th and 19th centuries who hoarded fossils, shells and anthropological plunder were motivated by the same neurological tugs as cricket shirt collectors. It’s what compels people to spend too much money and effort searching for lost treasure. The only difference is that Terry Herbert had an easier time finding the Staffordshire Hoard than I’ve had locating my Holy Grail: the red strip worn by South Africa during the 1997-98 Carlton & United tri-series in Australia.
Look it up: it’s a gaudy, hideous thing that chucked tradition out the window by forcing the Proteas to cosplay as Zimbabwe. Most South African cricket fans would prefer it never sees the light of day again. But I’m obsessed. I simply have to have it. The only problem is that there isn’t a warehouse filled with old shirts just waiting for a good home.
Football fans don’t know how lucky they are. Since 2006, Classic Football Shirts has been a one-stop shop for vintage gear. Right now you can part with £699.99 for the 1987 England third shirt, or £549.99 for the infamous grey strip that Manchester United wore in the first half of their 3-1 defeat to Southampton in 1996. Rugby supporters are similarly fortunate with dedicated websites catering to their particular tastes. Their cricket counterparts, though, must explore the hinterland like prospectors in the Old West.
“It’s a constant challenge,” says Satvik Mohatta, a self-identifying “diehard” Indian fan and owner of hundreds of shirts, jumpers, bats, balls and protective gear used by international players spanning decades which he proudly shows off on his Instagram page. “Sometimes it’s as simple as reaching out to a player and asking them if I can have something of theirs. Most of the time they don’t even respond, but occasionally I get lucky. Otherwise it’s about paying attention to auction houses, knowing who to contact and just keeping your eyes open. You can get any football player’s shirt. Cricket, for some reason, just doesn’t have that.”
Which is why collectors on the prowl have to remain vigilant at all times. Podcaster, broadcaster and regular Guardian contributor Adam Collins has been in a lifelong pursuit to get his hands on the 1994-95 top used by the Australia ‘A’ team that included Ricky Ponting, Matthew Hayden and Michael Bevan before they were household names. One night, on the dancefloor of an indie club in Melbourne, Collins spotted an instantly recognisable flash of green and yellow. “I tried to pay the bloke $400 to swap shirts with me,” Collins recalls. “The guy said, ‘No fucking way am I ever giving this away’. Which I respect immensely.”
This obsession with what Collins calls his “white whale” has been turned into an audio documentary series and includes an interview with the late Jimmy Hadder, who became a national talking point after he was photographed wearing the shirt on the sidelines at the 1995 Super Bowl. “I’ve been led down the garden path,” Collins adds. “There have been possible sightings on eBay. Someone bought me one once, which I paid them back for, but it turned out to be the wrong season.”
Given the lack of regulation, purchasing a fake is a constant worry. I too have been duped in the past, which has exacerbated my cynicism around the game as a whole. And although knockoffs are readily available, I regard them with the same contempt snobby meat eaters have for vegan alternatives. Sure, it might look like the real thing, but I’d rather go without than wear the Quorn equivalent of Allan Donald’s billowing long-sleeve.
And it’s not just for the clout, though I’d be lying if I didn’t get high off the knowing nods, the fist-bumps and the chats with strangers who are so willing to share their own stories of quest and conquer. There’s the knowledge that this piece of cloth connects you not only to a moment in your past but to someone who, through the simple act of hitting or bowling a ball, played a role in shaping your life.
“I do it to feel closer to my favourite players,” explains Jenny Whitehead from Brisbane, who owns more than 120 specially selected shirts from players she has seen live. “My friends and family think I’m crazy. Maybe I am. But it’s brought me so much joy.”
In her 2019 book, Inside the Head of a Collector: Neuropsychological Factors at Play, Shirley Mueller writes that, “The reason we collect art is simple. It makes us happy.” And if you think that it’s glib to describe a cricket shirt as art, take a visit to the British Museum. In one corner of the Africa section, you’ll find a replica of the green shirt worn by Kenya at the 1999 World Cup. The large Maasai shield on the front makes it an instant classic. If only there was a simple way to get one.
Sri Lanka’s win doesn’t dismiss need for two-tier system
Take nothing away from Sri Lanka’s players. Their eight-wicket victory over England at The Oval in the third Test was procured through hard graft and plenty of skill. But let’s not pretend that they weren’t aided by the home team’s obvious lack of intent and, as Barney Ronay said, blatant piss-taking. Had the two sides been at full throttle, well, the previous pair of one-sided Tests serve as enough evidence that a chasm exists between the team. Add in England’s 3-0 series win over the West Indies that never left third gear and an unpleasant pattern emerges.
Test cricket needs two tiers. White-ball cricket has long embraced separate divisions and has allowed teams like the USA, Scotland and Namibia to develop in an environment where they have a decent chance of winning. As the Test arena grows more unequal, so too does the need to split it in two. This would ensure more competitive matches, place greater jeopardy on series and perhaps compel those in the second division to up their game and fight their way back to the top table.
It would also require a total recalibration of the game’s revenue distribution model as those consigned to the B league would not survive without financial help. Which is why the richer nations – and most obviously India – have to see beyond their own interests and pledge to support the smaller boards who run Tests at a loss. Without these necessary reforms, the meandering summer of 2024 might be regarded as the first of many.
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Quote of the week
“Coldplay can’t be number one every week” – Joe Root defends England’s cavalier approach after losing the final Test of the summer despite having Sri Lanka 93-5 in reply to England’s first innings score of 325.
Memory lane
Some people are on the pitch … and they are mostly celebrating India fans after watching their team win the World Cup at Lord’s on 25 June 1983. They were crowned champions after a 43-run victory over West indies.
Still want more?
England 2-1 Sri Lanka: Gary Naylor dishes out the player ratings for the Test series.
Australia and England edge towards next generations amid return of familiar foes, writes Geoff Lemon.
And Tammy Beaumont cemented her status as an elite batter as she struck an unbeaten record-breaking 150 for England against Ireland, reports Raf Nicholson.
… by writing to daniel.gallan.freelance@theguardian.com.
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