Cricket - Apartheid Fashion

Another 25 hour day of endless blue sea and sky stretched ahead, with nothing more exciting in prospect than the Captain's Cocktail Party on the quarterdeck at 6 bells, following a spot of deck tennis with that bunch of pleasant Australian girls I'd met at the Syndicated Quiz the evening before, if one felt so inclined. 6 days out of Fremantle and life on board had settled into a very pleasant routine.

 

Following a large buffet breakfast (one always seems to be so hungry at sea), I was lounging in a deck-chair idly perusing the ship's newspaper when I became aware of a chap glued to a transistor radio nearby. Faintly irritated at the crackling, I politely enquired as to what was apparently absorbing my sun-tanned neighbour. "Aw, don't you know, mate, the Capetown Test has just started, and the South Africans have won the toss and decided to bat."

 

"Oh really?" I tried to show interest.

 

"The ship'll be alongside in Capetown before the last day, and me and a few of the blokes from 'C' deck are thinking of grabbing a cab and nipping along to watch," my new friend continued enthusiastically but somewhat ungrammatically. Although I wasn't really bothered who won - the test appeared to be between S. Africa and Australia - the Aussie's remark had given me an idea. I would try and get to Newlands, but it would I thought be a lot more interesting to travel on public transport.  

 

A few days later I strolled down the gangway and boarded the bus for Capetown station. It appeared that Newlands, Capetown's sports stadium, was a bit out of town and S. African Railways was the way to go. The bus journey was pretty uneventful: the ship's Purser had told me that whites could sit anywhere, but that other races had to sit in the rear half. I did less well on the train: in short I had a Gandhi experience except in reverse, and, unlike Gandhi, I didn't argue: I realised too late that compartments alternated between black and white, and I naturally got in the wrong one....After the guard put me right, the compartment I ended up in was occupied by a large white man. I was about to tell him of my mistake when he unfurled his paper. It was in Afrikaans. Somehow the words somehow stuck in my throat. I can't quite recall the reasons for my hesitation (it's a long time ago), but I had read that the Boer War lived on in the minds of some, and that some Afrikaners resented the fact that English speakers never bothered to learn their language.

 

I had no problems identifying the whites only entrance to the ground. I'd like to be able to confirm that it really was true that the non-whites tended to support the opposition, but when I strolled along to the partition they all went silent. I now think that they must have thought I was a policeman, as in general the 2 groups sat as far as possible from each other and I felt a bit of a fool stuck in a kind of no-man's land.

 

I'm afraid I also can't recall who won: but as it turned out this S. Africa/ Australia match has gone down in history as it was one of the last games S. Africa played before the sporting ban, inspired by protesters led by Peter Hain and others, put a stop to it all. So I was present when a little bit of history was made.

How English are you?

Is your favourite drink tea?  Do you love cricket?  Do you often find yourself apologising to those who barge into you?  Well, here is a snappy test to see how English you are!

In a recent survey it was discovered that only 40 per cent of English people were able to identify that St George's Day takes place on April 23, compared with 70 per cent who could give July 4 as the American national holiday!  Indeed at OISE Oxford we forgot to post this on St George's day (yesterday!)

Cricket in the Parks

I don't know if my fellow one-to-one teachers have had this experience, but on more than one occasion a learner has said to me brightly at the start of a lesson "Can you tell me about cricket today please? Is it true that it really lasts 5 days?". He (it's usually a 'he', but not always) then settles back for an easy 'listening' lesson, knowing that there is no short way to explain this somewhat bizarre game. This is especially so when the learner comes from a country where there is no 'summer' game such as baseball where at least you have some sort of concept of batting and scoring runs.

These thoughts came to mind with the arrival in the post today of this year's cricket programme for Oxford University, whose home ground is the University Parks, just off the Banbury Road in North Oxford for those who don't know. I don't really recall now why I'm a member of the OU Cricket Club: after all it's pretty easy to see a match - there's no charge whether you're a member or not. The only advantage is that you can almost always sit down as you have the right to sit in the pavilion. This also means you can keep out of the rain - but they don't play when it rains anyway, so that's perhaps a limited advantage.

I'm not going to explain the rules here, except to say a match involves two teams of eleven players, who wear white shirts and long white trousers, and that while it can last 5 days, 3 is more common, and even 1 for a 'limited' overs' match.

Sport in the UK has become much more professional over the years with both rugby and cricket going this way in relatively recent times, and this has had an effect on the fixture list in the Parks. Oxford and Cambridge, dating back to 'Chariots of Fire' times, used to provide many of Britain's top sportsmen; and indeed with the public schools some might say they were the bastion of the 'true' amateur spirit in sport. Oxford used to play almost entirely 'first class cricket', i.e. against the County teams, but a few years ago the combination of professionalism in their opponents and university tutors hesitant about allowing their students 3 days off just to play sport caused a decline in competitiveness in these matches; so much so that the cricket authorities decreed that unless Oxford agreed to field a combined team with neighbours Oxford Brookes University it would lose its first class status. This merger now has now taken place, and although team lists are not normally available at the ground these days, enquiries reveal that around 9 of the 11 players in a typical match today are Brookes men - 'not quite cricket' the purists might say.

So, what should we tell our students? The easiest thing, rather than getting bogged down in explanations of 'leg before wicket' or 'silly mid off' is to point them in the direction of the Parks and tell them that this season there are a couple of early season first class (3 day) matches: 1 - 3 April against Nottinghamshire and 7 - 9 April against Warwickshire. If they ask how the England team is doing these days, tactfully change the subject, pointing out that we're doing the second conditional today.

Kit on Australia

As many of you will know, we saw OISE Oxford Principal David Newton off recently before he and his family emigrate to Australia. While munching a second slice of the delicious cake and wondering whether there should have been a comma between the 'Good Luck' and the 'David',  I began musing to myself as to what kind of country he's off to, and how things have changed since I used to reside in the Lucky Country. Of course, David is going to Sydney and I'm a Melbourne man. I'm not sure that that old rivalry still exists in the 21st century, but in any event I'm confining my remarks chiefly to Melbourne as that's the bit I know best.

There's no doubt vast changes have taken place. I recall watching a test match (that's cricket for you non-Brits) at the MCG (that's the Melbourne Cricket Ground) a few years ago, and thinking perhaps there hadn't been too many changes: a sea of white faces packed the ground and there was plenty of light-hearted Pommie/Aussie banter amongst the fans. You could say it was pretty much an Anglo-Saxon event. But step outside the ground and get on one of Melbourne's excellent trams and you realise that times have really moved on. I did precisely this a few years ago during the Boxing Day Ashes match (that's England v Australia), and found my tram was full of Vietnamese and Chinese immigrants who probably knew as much about cricket as they did about Yorkshire Pudding.

That's a big change. When I worked in Australia in the 1960s it was true that there were plenty of  'New Australians', but the White Australia  policy still ruled and these new Aussies were from places like Greece, Italy and Yugoslavia. In fact it was said that Melbourne had the biggest Greek community of any city outside Athens. But in general Australia had the feeling of being a bit of the UK in the sun; people of my parents' generation called England (or Scotland) 'home', studied Shakespeare and learned French as their first foreign language. The fact that they were on Asia's doorstep was largely ignored. They would have been surprised indeed to think that one day Australia would be contemplating becoming a republic.

I would say that the other big change is a tremendous growth in self-confidence. When I said in the 1960s that I had a degree in Philosophy, Politics and Economics I was met with general derision. "Only teachers and public servants have arts degrees, mate" I was told " Australia wants only useful people like engineers and plumbers who can build the country." In fact I was often met with downright hostility which appeared to come from some sort of inferiority complex. This seems to have completely gone: now Australians seem to be much more at one with themselves. This makes them far more welcoming and proud of their country. And well they should be. Melbourne, once the home of the '6 o'clock swill' and men only beer-drinking pubs, now boasts a bewildering array of eating places and entertainments with food from all over the world. It's clean and modern too.

Oh yes, it's got great beaches and surf too. That hasn't changed.

So if you're thinking of a holiday in the sun, that's the place to go.