How do people end up being the captain of a cricket team? I know there are numerous books on the subject, but these can be contradictory at times and tend to relate to the highest levels of the game. I’m more interested in the bottom tiers of cricket, where leadership capability is not strictly defined by prowess on the field. Certainly, it helps if one can provide the odd pivotal contribution to the team’s success with bat or ball. However, at 5th XI level the players that can routinely do this are poached by sides higher up the food chain. That really leaves those who can manage the more technical elements like administration and tactics. The difference between leadership and management is a topic we spend rather a lot of time examining in the public sector (where I work) but I’m not sure I can be confident about describing this to you.
In the end, the best quality to have in a cricket captain is the desire to do it, or in my case the preparedness. The departure of this team’s talismanic Skipper from the last couple of seasons, although well-advertised in advance, left a little hole. Not that we would begrudge him the chance to play up as he had certainly been unable to express himself in a more demanding playing environment very often. As I have been an occasional player for the side for years, I had some vested interest in being ‘part of the solution’ and so I proceeded to spend the off season canvassing the team stalwarts about the fabulous opportunity to fill this gap. After several weeks of this I realised that none of the regulars had the wherewithal to pick this up at present. Blimey. I had made the most obvious error one can in the context of volunteering at a cricket club; if you find a problem, you own the problem (or at least co-own it). To take the pressure down on future captaincy discussions I suggested to the Chairman that I might act as a caretaker Skipper- you know, just until a more permanent solution could be found. If not exactly quicksand, this represents a burning platform at the very least. One of the most memorable bits of advice ever offered to me came from a teacher in the ninth grade. He told me that “most of life is just about turning up” (which had some context at the time). Well…I’m here.

On to the week’s hijinks. After me raising a red flag with the Chairman early about the state of potential selection, some quality players have manifested on my team sheet. Guess the sky wasn’t falling after all. What was it that Yoda says about patience and focus? Must try it one day. However, my colleague in the VI-Kings isn’t having quite the same experience as his attack seems to be minimal. Naturally, I have great sympathy having been in precisely his position several times over the years. That won’t necessarily translate into me sharing resources mind you- this isn’t a charity. I’m sure that somewhere the 3s and 4s Skippers are basking in a glow of smugness as they have probably thought I failed to appreciate this concept in the days of yore (when it was me lobbying them for some redistribution).
Any joy quickly evaporates for the 4s skipper when I prematurely publish my team online before he has had a chance to carefully craft his finely tuned side. This type of protocol failure is poor form in captaining terms and despite being new to this I really should have known better. Apologies are offered and a cider behind the bar at Llamaland should help me get back on his Christmas card list.

In the end I needn’t have worried as by late Thursday the scale of disruption and change is dramatic. The [friendly] side below have had three different versions of their match evolve, only to evaporate in the face of limited selection/enthusiasm on the part of several potential opposition teams. Meanwhile, there is an injury plague seemingly affecting the 44 players above my side which means that at least three changes are coming our way. Things must be bad as the 4s Captain is very remorseful and agreeable in his messaging about options; normally there is an air of Jean-Luc Picard to these conversations (“make it so number one”). It is not so much the prospect of losing people that rankles, it is the admin time required to orchestrate it all. I find myself literally messaging under the table in meetings at work to ensure that I can keep on top of important developments. I estimate that an hour and a half of admin time has been required by me this week to get to where we are. My wife is not exactly delighted to have our Friday evening routinely disrupted by calls and messages. I probably should have mentioned this scenario before I asked her to marry me all those years ago. Timing can be critical in these things as potential players who are unsure of their circumstances can disappear into the sunset before your very eyes. The other challenge is the fragile ecosystem of who is/was proving rides to whom etc. The net result of this week’s ‘restructure’ is that I have lost my best bowling options and a very good bat. Gather around children while we witness the death of optimism. No matter, I have an Ace up my sleeve in the form of a talented young leg spinner I plan to introduce to senior cricket. What’s that? He’s out too? [Insert facepalm emoji here].

The attack for Saturday now contains one proper bowler, one proper nets bowler and two others who can just about get it straight down the track. Each of these blokes will need to do eight full overs. This doesn’t sound like much but in a live environment this can be demanding for them, especially if the extras or boundaries start stacking up. The remaining eight overs of the 40 will have to come from the ensemble of muppets who might otherwise be picking their noses at cow corner or third man. God help us. This match may end in up the category of scatological experiment.

Post-mortem: Bad. Ultimately worse than I had imagined. We lose by nine wickets. And yet the team leave the ground with a sense of things only improving from here. Perhaps some small element of hope is still intact despite the drubbing? I reflect that my team talk may not have been the inspiring call-to-arms that I was after. I spoke of the three S’s- sun cream, situational awareness and smiling (i.e., enjoying yourself). Pretty sure that isn’t how Justin Langer approaches things. My own performance is entirely forgettable, which doesn’t help. Having placed myself at number one in the batting order (no one likes this role so thought I should show willing) I manage to chip out to mid-off in the first over having played through a push too early. Not that my scores normally have much influence on the team’s fortune mind you, but there is sometimes a kind of moral victory in working through the majority of an opening bowler’s spell. I guess I’ll have to take my own advice (regularly handed out to new and struggling players) which is that the best improvement anyone can bring to their game is positivity. The changing room playlist this week (reggae) was the biggest success of the day.