Cricket is a reminder that certainties can be overthrown

A week ago, while the UK was in the grip of midwinter and much of the world was gripped by anxiety, there appeared to be three certainties. First, that Keir Starmer would win the next election. Second, that the Australians would beat the West Indies in the upcoming Test. Third, that although England would fight gallantly, we would rediscover how hard it is to defeat the Indians on their own territory.

Within a few days, those certainties hardened even further. Sir Simon Clarke is not a stupid man. After all, he was at Oxford, a competent University. Yet he is not nearly as bright as he thinks he is. In particular, he is lacking in political intelligence. In that regard, what brains he does possess have gone to his head.

At one stage, Sir Simon was Chief Secretary to the Treasury: in effect, promoted by Boris to be deputy Chancellor to Rishi Sunak. Although the current PM is always polite about his colleagues, I have heard it said that he did not think much of his second in command. If so, resentments may have festered.

Moreover, there is a bizarre explanation for the appointment. Sir Simon is about a foot taller than Mr Sunak. It is alleged that Boris was happy to use this as a means of belittling his potential rival. “Surely not”, readers will think. “Surely no Prime Minister would make such an important appointment on such frivolous grounds.” That is, of course, true, except that we are not considering “no Prime Minister”. We are dealing with Boris, of whom anything is possible.

Anyway, Sir Simon added to Rishi Sunak’s woes. I would not suggest for a moment that Simon Clarke and his shadowy associates are being paid by the Labour party. For a start, that would not be necessary. These supposed Tories will perform their sabotage free. 

Shortly after Sir Simon crossed the pons asinorum, the Test matches appeared to be unfolding as predicted. Then, suddenly, there was high drama. Two immensely exciting games ensued in which the apparently vanquished rallied, only for the expected winners to counter-attack, with the final outcome in doubt as to the end. What wonderful cricket.

The implications go even wider than two Test matches, however memorable. First, it may be that the West Indies are on the brink of a revival. They have had decades in the slough of despond, when the great era of the Seventies and Eighties receded from memory and some of the Windies’ performances were embarrassing. World cricket needs a strong West Indies side. Once again, we may now have one.

Second, bazball has strengthened cricket without compromising the traditional crafts and skills. For this, Ben Stokes is entitled to much credit. Although there were one or two difficulties early on, boys will be boys, and the roistering boy has matured into a world-class skipper, who will earn every honour that the game can bestow.

Third, that these great honours are the endowment of Test Cricket. There are lesser forms of the game, but Tests are summa cum laude. The other day I tried to explain to an American that a Test could last for five days and end in a draw. Not only that: the draw was sometimes the best result, athletically, aesthetically and morally (think of Gavaskar’s match in 1979). 

The bewildered Yank thought that this was an opportunity to patronise the limeys. “Not a bit of it” said I. “It’s just that you lot took your independence too early.”

Finally, cricket is a venerable game, which constantly renews itself. In so doing, it draws on physical strength, psychological toughness, grace, skill, subtlety, humour, beauty – and fear. Not every aspirant batsman might be wholly relieved to discover that the Windies are about to launch a new generation of ferocious quicks. 

Cricket also draws on tradition, and some of those traditions are now under attack, abetted by two contemporary British obsessions, race and class. In many a dressing room, there will occasionally be a player who feels overlooked. These days, if a non-British player decided that this was due to discrimination, the authorities would virtually have to prove their innocence. This does nothing to promote good race relations and colour-blind comradeship.

Then there is class. Eton and Harrow have played at Lord’s for almost two centuries. Chippy Lefties find that intolerable. Again, the authorities have been far too ready to succumb to the indignity of a grovelling preemptive cringe. 

The same is true of language. The BBC, often happy to abandon old-fashioned linguistic standards, now talks of “batters” not “batsmen.” The neologism is banal and ugly. “Batsman” would have satisfied all the great batsmen of the past, and just because male players continue to use the hallowed term, there is no reason why females should not play cricket. Nor need their bowlers be called bowlesses.

After an Ashes series which exhausted the supply of superlatives, a most promising West Indian revival and the rest of the tenterhooks series to come in India, it is to be hoped that those who run Test cricket will recover their nerve. They are in charge of the greatest of sports. Let them glory in that role. So: certainties can be overthrown. As far as Mr Sunak is concerned, that will require more than a few days’ cricketing bouleversement. Yet he still has time – just – to persuade enough of the electorate to reassess him.

For obvious reasons, Keir Starmer has decided to let events take their course. He will be hoping that there will be more Tory useful idiots to smooth his path. This could well work. But it is and will remain an uninspiring spectacle. If Sir Keir were a cricketing side, would anyone rush to watch him play? Keirball is hardly bazball. If he reaches into himself, tells us who he is, tells us what he believes, what Britain means to him and tells us where he hopes to take the country, Rishi Sunak could yet surprise us all. But he has to get on with it.

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