England vs South Africa at Bristol: The allure of women’s cricket

Not only was the England–South Africa World Cup semi final at Bristol a close match, it showcased a glittering array of brilliance that women’s cricket is capable of. Arunabha Sengupta writes about Sarah Taylor’s drives, Jenny Gunn’s mature street smarts, Laura Wolvaardt’s phenomenal promise and all the rest of the attractions.

There were tears that welled up, and escaped the confines of her eyes. The lips quivered even as she answered the questions with utmost dignity. Sarah Taylor had just been part of an edge-of-the-seat, emotional rollercoaster of a victory in the World Cup semi-final against South Africa. She had played a leading hand herself with a perfect gem of an innings. She had just been handed the Player of the Match award. But the enormity of the occasion was still sinking in.

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Tension had mounted with every passing over. The match had tottered on the edge of a vicious knife. Taylor herself, after the masterfully crafted half-century, had been done in by a direct hit from that exceptional fielder, South African skipper Dane van Niekerk. The keenest of battles had followed.

Wickets had tumbled after Taylor’s dismissal, crisis dawning with captain Heather Knight carting a long hop straight to square leg and Natalie Sciver losing her head and wicket to Sune Luus.

The nerves had been somewhat soothed by the calm Fran Wilson, aided by the experienced Katherine Brunt.

After that Jenny Gunn had used her long reach to good effect in effecting several crisply struck boundaries. And with two balls to go, the field up and van Niekerk’s ladies prowling about like a pack of lionesses in the veldt, Anya Shrubsole had clinched it by clobbering Shabnim Ismail through the off-side.

It had been a magical match, and the effects were electric. The few hundred spectators who had been canny enough to make it to the ground, now clustered around the cricketers, cheering both teams, clicking pictures and collecting autographs of the heroines, as emotions of several varieties — all touching, all deep — played on the faces of the 22 wonderful women who had taken part in the game.

The women’s game follows erratic popularity. In general ladies tend to attract more fans in the individual sports. Tennis or athletics. Team sports have had a long, long history of a male-dominated support base. There is the manly bonhomie, with the accompaniment of beer, cigarettes and swear words. Supporting teams is still a largely male pastime. Such things are difficult to overturn. And cricket is one of the more chauvinistic disciplines in this regard.

All the counties in England have women’s teams, but while the men walk out at Lord’s or The Oval or Headingley, the fairer sex have to make do with obscure, faraway, second-string venues. One has to pay to watch the men’s matches, there is no such requirement if one, for some reason, wants to catch the women in action. Free entry notwithstanding, spectators are still difficult to lure.

Even the semi-finals of the World Cup had tickets cheaper than the general admission price of a First-Class county game involving men.

Half-hearted social media posts about the women’s game are about all the support that one gets. The posts underline one’s metro-sexuality and wit by voicing trivia about women’s cricket, especially as ad-hoc inane reactions when something embarrassing befalls the men’s team that one supports. That, and a few words of politically correct encouragement here and there.

With proper marketing and associated noise, yes, the eyeballs do increase. It becomes common knowledge that Mithali Raj reads Rumi before going in and stroking her way to a half-century. But the real act of watching and appreciating the women’s game remain the domain of a very few. It is unfortunate, because many don’t even give The Eves a chance before dismissing their game as a poor substitute for men’s cricket.

But I sincerely believe that provided a proper opportunity to indulge in the women’s game, as in the case of the spectators who watched the riveting match at Bristol, few will be able to resist the splendid fare that the ladies are capable of offering.

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As one walks into the County Ground, Bristol, one comes across a series of portraits on the walls. The legends of Gloucestershire cricket are all there. There is WG Grace, there is Gilbert Jessop. And in between there are two men known for the majesty of their cover drives, Wally Hammond and Tom Graveney.

Even when I distance myself from the thrills of the Tuesday game, and don the hat of the responsible chronicler, I can write with absolute certainty that Sarah Taylor will be able to hold her own in the company of these two phenomenal exponents of the drive. Few in the modern game, across countries, formats and genders, play the drive with more elegance and class than Taylor. Tuesday’s gem was etched with several such strokes of mastery, starting with the one that raced to the cover fence and saw her start things off. It was as if this splendid batswoman was paying homage to the men in the portraits. If Hammond and Graveney had been there to watch they would hardly have hesitated in welcoming the stalwart into their elite club with open arms.

Taylor drives with class. She picks the length early, leans into them and executes a perfect follow-through. She has the gift of timing as well. She looks magnificent.

However, on Tuesday, Taylor was not the only woman who made it worthwhile. Every other aspect of the game was covered in various degrees, most of them more than sufficiently.

Brunt, the picture of a perfectly conditioned athlete, is capable of generating eye-popping pace and sometimes did so even on the rather slowish Bristol wicket. 

Laura Wolvaardt, all of 18, with luxurious long hair cascading under her helmet onto her back, oozed talent during her stint at the wicket, demonstrating near perfect temperament for building an innings. Mignon du Preez underlined what experience is all about as she paced her knock intelligently and held the Protean innings together.

Skipper Heather Knight and Tammy Beaumont fielded like livewires. And Taylor, before she essayed that outstanding innings, effected a leg-side stumping of ethereal brilliance. When England batted, Ayabonga Khaka was impressive as she went through ten overs of sustained potency, giving away just 28 and picking up two wickets.

The lighter ball used in the women’s game means that it moves about a lot more, making power-hitting less of an option. But there are ladies who can pack a wallop in their strokes. Lizelle Lee did not come off on this day, but she can hit it many a mile and often. Captain van Niekerk did pummel an effortless straight six, turned her leg breaks appreciably and threw herself around in the field. And an arrogant pull by Lauren Winfield early in the England innings did underline that the batting of the ladies can be audacious as well.

There was also plenty of innovation, as shown by the scoops executed by Taylor and Wilson. The latter did bring about her demise by playing the stroke once too often, and the way Trisha Chetty held on to the catch was testimony to the athleticism that abounds in the women’s game.

Finally, there was enormous experience and excellent cricketing sense on view as Gunn astutely guided the England side through the final few overs, demonstrating that not only do talent and skill rage among the ladies but also copious amounts of street-smart.

When Shrubsole biffed Ismail for four, the ecstasy in the English dressing-room and the heartbroken postures of the South African cricketers told us how dearly every participating player wanted to win.

They play hard, play excellent cricket and play to win. They strive for success as much as their male counterparts, perhaps even more because along with the opponents they also have to overcome the stereotyping, the chauvinistic ignorance, the patronising lack of interest.

And thereby the Taylors, the Gunns and the rest of them provide absolute entertainment. It is time that the cricket-following fraternity, and, dare I add, sorority, realised what they are missing by neglecting the women’s game.