
Peter Espeut 'Cricket is Life' screams a T-shirt I bought some years ago on a London street; 'Everything else is mere details'. The games we play, and the way we play them, mimic real life. Maybe this is even more true of the game of cricket, if you believe people like C.L.R. James.
It was always more than just a game. The English ruling class, the most successful colonisers in world history, invented it, and invested in its intricacies all the nuances of class and ethnic superiority. To win at cricket was proof not only of skill, but of the presence of something much more important: they called it 'character', a sign of an advanced state of culture, personal human development and civilization. You show 'character' when you play 'correctly', when you don't wilt in the face of intimidation and pressure, when you keep plugging away on a sticky wicket, always trying new strategies; when you go for the jugular while being gracious in victory. As much as anything else, cricket is a mental game, where superior psychology can make the difference between teams of similar talent.
For the West Indies to be beaten by the English was to confirm our subjugate status. To regularly beat the English at their own game was to assert our self-worth, our coming of age; our readiness as a people for self-determination and self-government.
If the truth be told, cricket also has to do with the assertion of masculinity. One of the tasks of colonialism was to castrate the subjugate male: to take his freedom, his women and his potency, to make him feel less of a man. To beat the English was a strong statement of virility, almost equivalent to marrying a white wife; the cricket bat is a potent phallic symbol! To lose at cricket was almost a challenge to the masculinity of the Caribbean man. Cricket is not just a game; Cricket is life!
Hosting CWC
And so how do we interpret the decision some years ago by the elected heads of Government of the region to host the Cricket World Cup in the Caribbean? Was it (as they seem to say) a business decision, calculated to pay, sooner or later, a dividend in dollars and cents? If so, then we can evaluate the quality of the economic judgment our politicians brought to bear. We can look at the timing during the winter tourist season, the visa regime put in place to facilitate the tens of thousands expected, the pricing of the tickets, etc. If this was the reason, then our regional leaders are guilty of very poor economic judgment indeed!
Or was it a huge regional exercise in 'bread and circuses', intended to elevate our image in the world, and to improve our own image of ourselves. If so, then the investment of billions was to pay a 'feel good' dividend quite unrelated to whether our team did well or not.
How could we be expected to feel good at a cricket match without our own music and food, and having to pay $150 for a bottle of water? The agreement our governments made with the International Cricket Council was guaranteed not to produce a 'feel good' experience either in our guests (who came for the West Indian vibes) or in our own people. If 'feeling good' was the reason, then our regional leaders have shown they do not understand our people, or why others come here! It would be very poor judgment!
How do we explain the willingness to spend billions to have this tournament played here? Was the reason they wanted to stage CWC something more intangible, a matter, say, of collective regional pride, a Caribbean-wide 'macho' statement.
As a group of countries over the years we have taken poor decisions, and have not done well with our 'independence'. This is just another example of poor judgment by our politicians, but this time on a bigger scale. Before committing the region to this thing, they had the duty to know what was involved.
Our politics matches our cricket. No one doubts that we have talent; but the question is, do we have character?
Peter Espeut is a sociologist and is executive director of an environment and development NGO.