Something is radically wrong with local cricket

Oct 11, 2025 Features / Columnists, Peeping Tom

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(Kaieteur News) – There is something radically wrong with the organization of local cricket. It has been months now since the weather has turned kind—clear skies, dry fields, and the sort of sunshine that in the old days would have had men pulling on their flannels and boys eager to snatch a bat and head for the outdoors.

Yet, all we have been treated to are a few special tournaments, the odd Under-13 competition, and a sprinkling of “development” games that seem to exist more for press releases than for players. But what about club cricket? What about First Division cricket? Has it gone into hibernation—or worse, into a coma from which no one seems inclined to wake it?

I have read about a two-day first division tournament. Now let us be serious. Do we really intend to develop top-flight cricketers with two-day tournaments? The Case Cup used to be a three-day affair and most matches ended in draws.

The silence of the city’s cricket grounds is haunting. Once upon a time, when the economy had hit rock bottom and you couldn’t find a full set of stumps in the stores, you could still pass any ground in Georgetown on a Saturday or Sunday and see the white of pads, the flash of bats, and the sweet rhythm of leather on willow.

It was the time of the Case Cup, the Second Division League, and the Wight Cup. Berbice had its own thriving league, producing players of skill and temperament. Cricket then was not something administered; it was something lived.

Now it seems to be something scheduled—sparingly, reluctantly, and without conviction. We speak solemnly about the “state of West Indies cricket,” about the need to “develop the game,” and about “pathways” and “structures.” But at home, cricket is in the doldrums, becalmed by inertia and indifference.

You cannot build a house without a foundation, yet that is exactly what we seem to be trying to do. We are picking inter-county and even national teams without the benefit of ongoing club competition or proper trials. Players are chosen on reputation, not performance. The selectors have to reach into the past because the present offers no evidence. And that, in any sport, is the beginning of the end.

Once, the club system was the lifeblood of Guyanese cricket. It was there that the great names of the past honed their craft—under the eyes of rivals, supporters, and old men who knew every quirk of the game. It was club cricket that gave young players the discipline to bat through an afternoon, to bowl long spells in the sun, and to understand that cricket is not just about flair but about fight.

Without that, the fire dies out. We produce players, yes, but players without seasoning, without match hardness, without the quiet knowledge that comes only from playing week after week.

It is astonishing that in a country where every empty field once served as a pitch, we now find more school athletics meets than club cricket matches. Nothing against the athletes. They too deserve their chance. But this imbalance is absurd. Cricket, the game that once defined our weekends and our national temperament, has been reduced to a calendar of sporadic tournaments.

The administrators will say it is about money, that sponsors are hard to find. But that is an evasion. You do not need sponsorship for club cricket. You need commitment. You need teams to show up with their gear, an umpire or two willing to stand the day, and a few spare balls. Cricket, in its simplest and purest form demands only the will to play.

So where is that will? Has it been lost in the layers of administration that now choke the game? Has the bureaucracy of cricket replaced the joy of it? There seems to be a gulf between the men who run the game and those who actually love it. Too much talk of development, too little playing of cricket. Too many committees, too few matches. It is as if the custodians of the sport are so busy managing it that they have forgotten to organize it.

We cannot continue like this. If the local boards are serious about developing cricket, they must begin by restoring the leagues—First Division, Second Division, and youth competitions that run continuously through the season. Let clubs reclaim their pride, their rivalries, their sense of belonging. Let players earn their place through performance, not nostalgia. The national and inter-county teams will take care of themselves once the base is strong. But without that base, everything above it will wobble.

Cricket in Guyana needs an overhaul, not in rhetoric but in practice. It needs administrators who understand that the health of the game lies not in glossy tournaments but in the quiet persistence of weekend cricket. It needs grounds that are open and prepared, fixtures that are regular, and a calendar that rewards consistency. Above all, it needs people who care enough to play, to organize, and to keep the spirit of the game alive.

For if we cannot play cricket on sunny Saturdays and Sundays; if our young players cannot find a match to test themselves, then what right do we have to mourn the decline of West Indies cricket?

The decay begins here, at home, on the empty fields where cricket once thrived. Something is radically wrong with local cricket. And the tragedy is that those responsible seem to think that nothing is wrong at all.

(The views expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of this newspaper.)   

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• local cricket, Peeping Tom, radically, West Indies

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