A Sad Aucklander

By Harbour Heather

Before we get started, this is an emotions-fuelled piece, not a solutions-fuelled piece. Minds greater than mine will tackle that.

Some of my best tweenage memories, at my peak Astlefan, involve going to the cricket at Eden Park.

And it’s not the ground that made them memorable. It was the sport. I was watching cricket with my best friends, after playing cricket with my best friends. I lined up nervously outside the changing rooms in the West Stand, anxiously debating if Nathan Astle wanted to sign my piece of paper or if I really should leave him alone, he’s a busy guy… and when he did (from the driver’s seat of a Budget Rentals van), I sat in the forecourt of the Mobil across the road, waiting for my parents to pick us up, staring at his autograph, thinking life couldn’t possibly get any better.

When the 2023-2024 international cricket schedule was announced yesterday, after a momentary selfish sulk, I thought about how there’s a whole generation of kids in Tāmaki Makaurau who won’t get to have those experiences that I did.

In a summer that features Bangladesh, Pakistan, South Africa and Australia for the men, from December – end of March, the biggest city in the country will host just three T20s.

Even more alarming, Auckland has no White Ferns games at all. The Cricket World Cup was on our shores just 18 months ago, and this city should be full of people on a women’s cricket wave, packing out matches, stoked to see superstars Sophie Devine and Amelia Kerr in the flesh, and rooting for hometown Hearts heroes Molly Penfold and Fran Jonas.

For avoidance of doubt, I know this isn’t NZC’s fault. I wouldn’t want to take my best product to a ground that isn’t fit for cricket either. As a cricket venue, Eden Park is awkward (see also; “quirky”, “unique”), distant and often cavernous. The stadium seating doesn’t lend itself to eight hours of viewing, not in the same way as spreading out a picnic blanket on a grass embankment. There’s limited contact with the players riding the boundary – no passing the mini bat over the rope at fine leg between deliveries, then racing to the other end of the ground to capture the other bowler.

And, Eden Park, please know this isn’t really your fault either. I’ve had some great cricketing moments with you. Less since the redevelopment, but I’ll always cherish the 2015 World Cup semi final, that atmosphere, the crowd, the occasion.

The lack of a bespoke cricket ground is robbing Auckland cricket fans – current, emerging and potential – from connecting with the sport. Outside of the smart idea of popping games in holiday hotspots over Christmas/New Year, Auckland should see at least one Test a season, and ODIs against those big touring sides. We should be able to walk the wicket in the lunch break, and have dozens of kids play on the outfield. It is a chaotic rite of passage.

Instead, we have a maximum of 120 overs, with only 1/3 of those in daylight hours. T20 isn’t my favourite format, but I do realise its place in bringing in non-traditional cricket fans, and how, of all forms of cricket, it is better suited to Eden Park on and off the field.

I love this sport. I love this city. I’m just frustrated after many years of not having access to my favourite format of the game in my hometown, of having to spend money on petrol, flights and accommodation, on top of match tickets, just to see my favourite teams in action.

And I know that’s a luxury, being able to take leave, to travel to Bay Oval or beyond. That’s my concern. Youngsters aren’t getting exposed to the sport the same way I was fortunate enough to, because parents can’t always take the whole fam to the Mount, or down the road to Hamilton.

The one saving grace, although it doesn’t make up for a lack of proper cricket in our city, is that all the games are free to air this season. We didn’t have Sky growing up, so other than spending eight hours at friends’ houses, watching live was my only real exposure to the game, our players and the international stars. At least that broadcast barrier is down for the kids who aren’t able to see their favourite players from the boundary. It’s the only way Auckland’s kids will be exposed to test cricket.

Can we sort this out, please? Auckland cricket fans are homeless. Cricket is doing okay without us, but from crowds to revenue to participation, there are dormant benefits just waiting to erupt.

Signed,
A deprived, loyal, and sad Aucklander.

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