It’s backyard cricket but rules are rules
Classic Kiwi contest can turn ordinary players into giants
Grandma grips the taped tennis ball in her hand, mock-polishing it on her frilly sundress. Don’t be fooled, she’s bowling thunderbolts. You tap the battered Size 3 Duncan Fearnley bat, resplendent with red insulation tape handle, and survey the field: an inviting gap between the garden shed and the hula-hooping niece; if granny bowls short, you could smash it into the leg-side fence for four automatic runs.
But beware the uneven bounce. A top edge will see the ball soar over the fence into Mrs Marsh’s sprawling pumpkin patch. Six and out. Just like dad, and he’s been sulking inside “carving the turkey” ever since.
Backyard Cricket (BYC). It’s as Kiwi as pohutukawa blossom, double cheese sizzlers and Black Caps collapses.
It can be played anywhere, anytime, with at least two willing participants, and almost endless variations on equipment.
There are, however, five (generally accepted) golden rules:
One-hand one-bounce (no fumbles). Six and out. No LBWs. When asked, there is always “two to come”.
You can always make new rules — BYC is about evolution.
Each backyard has its own rules that must always be respected, says Beige Brigade co-founder, Alternative Cricket Commentary (ACC) head and now Hauraki head grot Mike Lane.
When he was growing up, his father’s orchids meant leg-side shots were off limits.
“As a result, in the real game I was shocking off my legs,” he says.
Captain of the ACC and Hauraki radio host Jeremy Wells once flatted in Kingsland, Auckland, where the backyard sloped fiercely from off to leg to the right-handed batsman.
“It also had a group of fa’afafine who lived next door who would bend over to pick up balls, proudly displaying the under contents of their dresses to us,” he recalls fondly.
Wells waxes rhapsodically about the joys of BYC and its importance.
“It has the ability to make ordinary players into cricketing giants.”
Lane’s finest moment came after blocking a mate’s dad for 90 minutes which resulted in him storming off and banning him from the backyard.
His greatest BYC memory goes back to the same venue, where he “creamed a cover drive and removed the one lemon that the dad was nurturing on a struggling lemon tree”.
For Wells, his proudest BYC moment was making history as part of the first five day/night backyard test at his mate Matt Nicholls’ house.
“We lit the backyard with floodlights magnificently but unfortunately couldn’t light the garden . . . so we lost 25 balls over five days in a flowering native flax bush.”
BYC is never short of controversy either, and that’s part of its beauty.
Many venues have a back fence or upturned trampoline as an automatic wicketkeeper and debate rages over whether edges carried, or whether there were edges at all. Other debates can ignite before the coin is even tossed: Length of pitch, enforcement of tippity runs, choice of projectile, can you be out first ball?
They are ethical and sporting battles that will rage beyond twilight in yards this golden summer of BYC.