Why School Cricket is More Important Than Ever | ICE Education
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Why School Cricket is More Important Than Ever

by ICE Education

Cricket in schools has faced a cocktail of problems as far back as most people can remember. Since the inception of league tables there has been a tension between the game and exam preparation; the summer term is ever shorter and the English climate is unreliable.  But none of these is especially new.  There are fewer boys (though actually more girls) playing cricket in schools than ever before.  But the main reason is not the weather.  Or even the exams.  It is because of the character of the game.

The world that teenagers inhabit is at the opposite end of a continuum from Cricket.  It is a world of multiple stimulation, constant distraction, instant action and unrelenting communication.  The idea of being away from social media to field for two hours is as far from the youth consciousness as it is possible to be.  In a world where everything is centred on the individual, selflessness and teamwork can seem hopelessly irrelevant.  A school which opened tomorrow would dismiss Cricket as insignificant. Missed lessons, too long for an after school match, and a lack of perceived value amongst school leaders who had no positive experience of the game themselves.

If success in school is a straightforward correlation with time spent in classrooms, then maybe all games are a futile distraction.  But when science suggests that IQ is only a 21% predictor of life success, possibly there is a bigger picture.

In order to increase the appeal of the game, schools have sought to make it teenage-fad friendly.  Games are ever shorter, moving towards a staple of twenty overs, or less.  Constant activity and no inconvenience is the mantra to capture child appeal.  However, Cricket will never be an all action game, and there is a minimum length necessary to enable all players to contribute meaningfully.  The instant game - at all levels - fundamentally changes the soul of Cricket, which is the balance between bat and ball.  The bowler exists to be savaged in the apparent aim to see every ball despatched for a home run.

Maybe the answer is not to shape the game to relentless action, or to allow fielders to carry mobile phones.  Or to replace drinks breaks with social media updates.  Perhaps there is still a value in patience and concentration.  Of learning to focus on a single activity and to appreciate the value of slow.  To be aware of the demands of a team which sometimes requires individual sacrifice for the benefit of the whole.  To appreciate that meritocracy means that opportunities are not always exactly equal, and that it is possible to appreciate the achievements of others rather than being constantly impatient for personal opportunity.  To recognise the need for unfashionable application to mastering complex skills over a prolonged period.  And to be committed to playing regularly, rather than when there is no better offer.

The fact that these qualities are not fashionable does not mean that they are without value.  If concentration and application are still valuable, then Cricket is one of a declining number of activities through which they might be developed. If these skills are transferable to employment, and predictors of life success, then possibly the game is more important than ever.  

However, in the Twenty First Century, an understanding of these benefits cant be taken for granted.  The challenge is not to dilute the character of the game beyond recognition, but to promote the value of it.  To celebrate the qualities which Cricket rewards.  To communicate why it is the game it is, and the advantages that might accompany it. 

For the first two hundred years of school Cricket, there was no pressure to justify the game.  Compulsion was unquestioned, and its appeal was assumed to be universal.  Behind this firewall, there was never any shortage of shabby provision which taught pupils to hate the game.  Dull draws in endless time games, entirely undemocratic distribution of playing opportunities, hours of tedious, technical obsession in learning defensive shots. Punishments for hitting the ball in the air, or to cow corner.  Two day house matches.  If social change has ridded the game of these cancerous characteristics, then maybe it has done Cricket a favour. 

The challenge for the game is to believe in its essential character, and the correlation between effort and satisfaction.  And to promote the unfashionable but enduring qualities that it might develop.  It is not a game which sits comfortably with a mobile phone social media society where instant is everything.  But maybe there is still more to life than that.