I came to Loughborough for the first time two years ago, and fell in love for a very specific reason. The mound in front of Haslegrave cricket pitch. That day, my local team Sunrisers were playing a friendly against The Blaze, and I saw my future – sat underneath the flag poles, with a picnic and friends, watching professional sport like I belonged.
About six months ago, they put a picket fence at the bottom of that mound. Hardly insurmountable – I think I could jump over it, and I’ve seen several people do exactly that this year – but it seemed to send a message. For whatever reason, somebody didn’t want us to sit and watch.
Still, when the ICC announced Loughborough would be hosting four warm-up matches for the Women’s T20 World Cup, I was excited. The tournament was in danger of overlooking the East Midlands, with Nottingham, Derby and Leicester all ignored in the main schedule, so this was much needed exposure for a region normally full of cricket.
I grew up in the middle of nowhere, well over an hour from my closest first-class county. I once got excited when Chris Woakes went to a pub 45 minutes from my house. So the idea of Laura Wolvaardt, Marizanne Kapp and Shabnim Ismail limbering up for a World Cup, a three minute walk from my University flat? Awesome.
Unfortunately, my flat was practically as close as I’d get. The weather was hardly great, but after Ireland did an admirable job of restricting the South Africans to 135-8, I decided to pop over to watch the chase. But when I eventually arrived at Haslegrave, I saw a line of people standing behind purple barriers. Behind the fence. Security guards dotted around. You could see the middle, but there was a mound-shaped blockage covering about a third of the outfield.
“No worries,” I thought. “I know my way around.” I confidently set off down the hill, only to see the road entrance to the pitch was also barricaded off. Back up the hill a bit, I found what seemed like a perfect spot, round the back of the computer science building which overlooks Haslegrave from one end.
For one glorious ball, everything was perfect – I had the best seat in the house as Ismail bowled Gaby Lewis. Immediately, though, a security guard – who sounded equally as confused as apologetic – told me he’d been asked to direct people back up to the hill. Where I was standing was practically a balcony – I don’t think I could have made it to the pitch if I’d tried. I’d like the job of the guy who gets to stand there, with a pretty perfect view, and tell people to move away.
My favourite spot to watch cricket on Haslegrave is a little mound outside the athletics centre, which lets you see over the hedge, just to the left of the wicket at the other end. That had been covered, too – by a sightscreen, but what I’d consider a comically large one.
Last week, I stood on top of that hill and watched from nearly behind the arm as Ben Stokes ran in to bowl. Maybe he thought I was an Australian spy. If I was a clever spy, though, I would have watched Ireland vs South Africa on Youtube with a cup of tea.
So it was back to the hill. Even right up against the barrier, as close as I could get, it was difficult to pick out who was who. And the obstructions directly impacted our experience of the game. Rebecca Stokell had made a promising start, and I was ready to cheer as she launched one out to the deep midwicket boundary. Tazmin Brits caught it. I couldn’t tell you how she caught it – maybe she juggled it three times, did ten keepy-uppies and did a somersault – because I didn’t even know she was there until she emerged from the shadow of the ECB Performance Centre.
Later on, Nadine de Klerk ended the game as a contest with a fantastic catch, diving forward at long-off, to see off Arlene Kelly for 15. I was on my tiptoes to see that, and had to describe what was happening to the family next to me. I would guess maybe seven or eight external supporters saw that – not only a piece of world-class cricket from a world-class player, but a pivotal moment in the match. Seven or eight. Women’s cricket deserves better than that, warm-up or not.
Dotted around the pitch were a few deckchairs. We had three on the mound in front of us; at no point were all three full. A bit annoying when your only option is to stand. The chairs seemed to be for the few who could mill around inside the ground – most of whom were wearing Loughborough Sport uniform, or ECB kit. I’m sure they all had a valid reason to be there, but these are not the people you need to get to watch the games. They already know about this. And as a fan, it felt a little frustrating to see that a uniform could get you inside, but a replica shirt wasn’t enough.
What strikes me about this situation is what a perfect opportunity these fixtures were to ramp up interest in this tournament. Four of the world’s best teams, right in the heart of Loughborough University campus. That’s a ready-made audience of thousands of young people – thousands of sporty young people, no less – who walk past this pitch every single day. They’ve seen the branding going up. Who else is that for? Of course there are students who saw the massive signs saying “World Cup” and found that intriguing. So why are you not enticing them to watch? Why are you hardly letting them watch?
Whether it likes it or not, the ECB’s mission statement with this tournament should be to transform the UK’s perspective on women’s cricket. Nat Sciver-Brunt has outwardly spoken about the hope that the England team can have its “Euros moment” – referencing the explosion of women’s football since the Lionesses won Euro 2022 on home soil – and parallels have also been drawn to the England women’s rugby team which won the World Cup here last year. But I don’t get the impression that the ECB are doing everything they can to engage people with this tournament. A Hello Kitty promotion campaign is all well and good, but why not try actually exposing people to cricket?
I have friends who are Irish, who are Bangladeshi, who are Kiwis – and who doesn’t love South Africa? There are three high-level women’s cricket squads in Loughborough, and five men’s. So many people who, if given the chance, would surely bring their friends along for a nice day watching world-class cricket up close.
I don’t think any of them were there this morning – no surprise, as no effort has been made to make people aware that these games are happening. Even if they had been, their friends were more likely to leave with severe neckache than a new love for the sport.
If you’ve read this far, look out for World Cup tickets near you! The issue has never been the standard of cricket, or entertainment. The players deserve better.
