The wicket is as high as the batsman’s waist. Many a time, it is just imaginary, with three small stones to indicate its position. At the other end, coming off a long run up, rounding a corner is the rival team’s express bowler, Mohan. There are two men standing behind the stumps and whoever catches the ball when it passes the bat or goes around the batsman, becomes the ‘automatic wicket-keeper’.
Welcome to the world of ‘Gully Cricket’ or ‘Street Cricket’ in India.
Generally played on narrow winding roads, street cricket often demands that ultra-aggressive batsmen curb their natural instincts. Shops all around and glass windows of houses often deter the batsman from going for extravagant shots, for they will earn the eternal hatred of the neighbours and will most certainly put the conduct of the match in jeopardy. Hence big sixes see batsmen making their ‘short walk’ back to the pavilion, in this case the compound wall of a neighbouring house.
As a street cricketer in India, everyone aspires to be either the fastest bowler or the batsman who can hit the farthest. Any umpire would be appalled by the bowling standards. Most of them chuck and a bowler’s concern is about getting the batsman out, not about bent elbows.
There is an unwritten rule in street cricket that you bowl within acceptable speed limits. Mohan swears that he can touch 90mph and as he bowls, shouts of ‘fast-appeal’ reverberate through the air. He is never likely to make a trip to the match referee’s chamber for suspect bowling action. Mohan is no doubt ferocious to face, as there is no protective gear for the batsmen.
Hitting hard and scrambling for the non- existent single is the batsman’s mantra. Often strapped for resources, the batsman drops his bat as he starts running, baseball style!
The ball is often a tennis ball wrapped in tape so as to increase its weight and enabling it to act more like a Kookaburra or SG cricket ball with extra bounce and more speed. Sometimes even ‘cork balls’ are used to counter the rough terrain. A hit on the head is an insult to one’s manhood.
The cricket sees some of the fiercest rivalries being enacted with teams drawn from different localities battling for pride. Mohan says gambling is rife and anger often spills over leading to brawls.
Street cricket in India sees the game itself change according to the players’ whims and fancies. If there are no stumps, then bricks or sticks take their place. If the number of players is odd, then a ‘double-side batsman’ or a ‘joker’ comes into the picture. He gets to bat for both the sides. His loyalty shifts based on how each team treats him.
When the strong guys in the team think that a weak link cannot bowl half a dozen deliveries, then something called a ‘baby-over’ comes into play. The weak link gets to bowl three deliveries, after which some big guy takes over. If the players are one too many, ‘one-pitch one hand’ (if a batsman is caught off one bounce with one hand) and ‘wall catch’ (when the ball is caught directly off the wall) are deemed as valid dismissals.
When his side is batting, Mohan becomes the ‘de-facto’ umpire. He admits that he suffers from selective amnesia whenever it comes to keeping count of the number of balls bowled or runs scored, often distorting them to favour his team.
Oddly, in the land of spinners, street cricket treats spinners with disdain. Everybody wants to bowl fast. When your ‘pitch’ offers so much assistance why not make the ball move off it at express pace?
Cricket in India is a national obsession. If India wins, people are happy. If they don’t, then players’ effigies are burnt and their homes attacked. But, for the majority of India’s poor who have no access to television, cricket played on pot-holed roads with stones and rubble, much more dangerous than uncovered wickets, provides solace. For them, international cricket is far less relevant than gully cricket. With players like Mohan becoming the heroes, cricketing legends like Rahul Dravid and Sachin Tendulkar are often pushed to the back benches.
Contrast this with England, a country where cricketing history seeps through the walls of most dressing rooms, a country where cricket is just for the purists, T20 notwithstanding.
Now, at the home of cricket, StreetChance, a form of street cricket, is being introduced to forge a sense of oneness among the people of African and Caribbean descent after the memories of the London riots have started fading.
StreetChance went first to Priory Court. It drew its first set of players from a pool of teenagers who were heavy smokers and were involved in gang wars. One such boy was Sophocleous. At the end of one match, he was astonished that he had not smoked a single cigarette for two hours. He kept returning to StreetChance to cut down to one cigarette a day.
Cricket in England, at least traditionally, never belonged to the streets. Football has always been the sport of the street in England. Since it requires children to be reasonably adept and fit, even to play in a casual way, a number of children are left out.
Richard Joyce, StreetChance's national operations manager says, “StreetChance aims to reach into those neighbourhoods and fill the empty spaces in young teenagers' lives. Its cricket is not that of perfection, technique, orthodoxy; it is cricket for access and enjoyment.”
Here it is six-a-side, five overs an innings and four balls an over. It is played in school halls, basketball courts and on indoor athletics tracks. Matches finish in 15 to 20 minutes. Sometimes they even tape the ball as it is done in India and Pakistan. At an event at Brixton recently, several members of the England women's team, including the captain, turned up to join the teenagers play the sport in its most enjoyable form.
In the course of a single afternoon, StreetChance might have helped shrink some deep-rooted differences that might exist in English cricket. While in India it serves as one of many distractions for poor children, in England, it is being tried for enjoyment and the effect that an inclusive sport can have on the community.