When Ireland’s cricketers play England in their first ever Test match at Lord’s next week it will be the latest chapter in that quaintest of things: an Anglo-Irish romance. Whatever the final score the visitors, including thousands of travelling supporters, intend to celebrate with the hosts a shared passion impervious to the toxic political zeitgeist.
“To see 11 men with shamrocks on their tummy coming out of the tunnel – that’s something I never thought I’d see in my lifetime,” says Heatley Tector, the president of the YMCA cricket club, a venerable club in Sandymount, Dublin. “Lord’s is where the elite of cricket play. Lord’s is the mecca.”
From Wednesday to Saturday the London ground is where Irish cricket, for so long tangled in perceptions of national identity, will show it has come of age. Once ostracised as a symbol of foreignness, of Britishness, it is now an all-Ireland venture proud of its multinational credentials: coaches and players from Australia, New Zealand, South Africa, Afghanistan, Pakistan, India, Bangladesh. Even, gasp, England.
“It’s an enormous occasion for us to be on the world stage,” says Richard Holdsworth, the performance director at Cricket Ireland, the sport’s governing body. “Playing in a Test match is special. Playing against England is even more special. And at Lord’s – that’s a dream for a lot of the lads.”
A symbiotic relationship connects cricket across the Irish Sea. Holdsworth, a key figure in paving Ireland’s path to Lord’s, is English. Karl McDermott, the head groundsman at Lord’s, is Irish. Eoin Morgan, who led England to World Cup glory last Sunday, is from Dublin. Asked at a press conference if that triumph was assisted by the luck of the Irish, Morgan smiled and credited a team with diverse roots and faiths: “We had Allah with us as well.”
Ireland, a footnote in world cricket for much of the 20th century, vaulted into the top ranks by acquiring Test status in 2017, the fruit of a decade-long effort to expand, improve and meet International Cricket Council requirements. They came close to beating Pakistan at Malahide last year and lost badly to Afghanistan in India in March. Few expect a win in their third Test, even with England resting some of their World Cup winners.
“It will be tricky,” says Brian O’Rourke, who used to coach a teenage Morgan and is now development manager for Cricket Leinster. “But the occasion will be huge. It will be a great showcase for what we can do.”
It will also showcase a side of Anglo-Irish relations ringfenced from Brexit rancour. The latest insult came in a report about Boris Johnson mocking the Indian heritage of Ireland’s prime minister, Leo Varadkar. “Why isn’t he called Murphy like all the rest of them?” Days earlier Jacob Rees-Mogg attempted to politicise England’s World Cup victory: “We clearly don’t need Europe to win.”
That drew derision for overlooking the fact that five members of the 15-strong squad were born outside the UK. Ireland’s fraught, twisting odyssey to Lord’s contains an additional, tacit riposte to divisive rhetoric because it ends with an embrace of outsiders. Cricket was hugely popular in the 19th century, parishes across the country boasting clubs, until surging Irish nationalism in the form of the Gaelic Athletic Association declared the game an alien English import. “Unfortunately the GAA won that battle,” says Tector. Cricket became associated with “castle Catholics” and “west Brits” – posh Irish anglophiles. During the 1919-21 war of independence a suspected IRA gunman opened fire on a game at Trinity College Dublin, killing a spectator, Kathleen Wright.
The game shrivelled, just a few dozen schools and clubs pursuing their lonely passion. Attitudes began to change in the 1970s when televised Test matches showed cricket to be a global – and at times thrilling – game. By his own admission Tector, 55, was a mediocre player – “shite” in fact – but he bequeathed passion to his three sons, all of whom have played for the national youth team, and to his daughter. “She’s probably the best of them, though she’d never say it.” Perhaps because they are a small tribe, Ireland’s cricketers pass the bug from father to son, mother to daughter, brother to sister.
“It’s very family focused,” says Alan Lewis, a former Cricket Ireland chairman of selectors, speaking at Clontarf cricket club as children carry out drills under a bright Dublin sun. They are being coached by Isobel Joyce, who represented Ireland in last year’s World Cup, and is the sister of Ed Joyce, who left Ireland and played one-day internationals for England before returning home and playing his one and only Test against Pakistan.
Success transformed the game’s image in Ireland. At their inaugural World Cup in 2007 the men’s team knocked out Pakistan and made it to the Super Eight stage, prompting a rapturous homecoming. They scored another shock by beating England in the 2011 World Cup. Subsequent results disappointed. Young players struggled to fill gaps left by John Mooney, Trent Johnston and other stars who retired.
Ireland remains a minnow – about 130 clubs compared to 6,000 in England, with an annual budget of only €10m, says Holdsworth. “It’s tough. We have to be extremely careful with money.” But he believes that restructuring over the past decade – more professionalism, coaches, training facilities, academies and clubs – augur improvement and will help keep talent at home rather than migrate to England.
Brexit burgled cricket for the term “backstop”, which is now politically radioactive, but in Ireland the game has an all-island structure that transcends the border – and politics – without any fuss. It also embodies a globalised Ireland that imports coaching talent from around the world. New clubs founded by immigrants from Pakistan, India and Bangladesh are sprouting across west Dublin. Afghans are doing the same around Cork. “They’ll play anywhere, in a car park, a tennis court, anywhere that’s flat enough,” says Holdsworth.
The squad to face England includes Simranjit “Simi” Singh, who was born in India. Ehtesham Ahmed, a contender for Pakistan’s national team before moving to Ireland, has played 17 seasons in his adopted country. “People notice I never miss a game. I tell them I just love my cricket. The passion rubs off,” the 37-year-old says. Friends back in Karachi tease him over his allegiance.
“I back the shamrock against Pakistan. What can I say? This is my home now.”