One year on from it’s announcement, we now have some indication of the costs for the redevelopment of Bradford Park Avenue’s famous old cricket ground.
I am not a fan of this grand plan and you might have gathered that from a piece I wrote last year. It is a staggering amount of money for such a small target audience.
At a time when numerous grass roots cricket clubs will be counting the pennies, patching up old equipment and doing what they can to raise a few quid to get to the starting line next April, it is hard to stomach the patronising do-gooders at Sport England.
The local paper broke down the plans last week and it’s the usual cocktail, better known in these parts as a White Elephant.
A big dollop of community – tick – a splash of the disabled – tick – a shot of women’s cricket – tick – and all topped off with a glittering dusting of happy ever after powder from the mandarins far, far away.
Or am I being unreasonable towards what, on the face of it, looks a revival of a once great sporting venue?
Without going over the points I made a year ago, there are some telling quotes within the T&A article. Once again, the repeated base assumption that this is driven by a lack of cricket grounds in Bradford is idiocy at best and downright lies in any other language.
In the recreational game we have a shortage of players and, crucially, volunteers. The tea lady has become as endangered as the Snow Leopard.
Mark Arthur, Yorkshire CCC CEO is quoted as follows.
“The aim is to create a first-class ground, but it will be a ground primarily for the community. It’s a unique concept, and would give Bradford national and international recognition for using cricket as a positive vehicle for social inclusion.”
Sorry, but surely this is what those who run the many clubs in and around Bradford have been doing for generations. In these dangerous and uncertain times, where the failures of past attempts at integration are there for all to see, here we go again.
This is incredibly short-sighted, ignoring the rest of the cricket playing population in Bradford at a stroke, suggesting that “social inclusion” can be cured with Sport England glitter and the squandered lottery dreams of the great unwashed.
Next time you queue to buy your ticket take a moment to consider who is spending your money and where?
I have no issue with Mark who is a decent bloke. He took the time to come visit our local club a few years ago but even he will know that this is a no-risk project for Yorkshire CCC and that they are simply beneficiaries of a facility they may or may not use.
The sad reality is that grandiose schemes like this only seek to further divide and segregate communities whereas the game of cricket has always acted to bring people together through socially diverse and wholly inclusive clubs.
Of course it will happen but fast forward a decade?
Today Aldi announced plans to buy the famous old Bradford Park Avenue cricket ground as most of it’s trolleys had actually taken up residence there.
A spokesman for the Council, Mr Ee Tha Never, lamented the failure of accepting a £5m bung from Sport England to create Happy Valley Park Avenue way back in 2015.
“Our Pie In The Sky Dept at City Hall never said that this would actually cost us any money. Mr B Lank-Chek from Sport England had told us it would all be lovely and we wouldn’t even need to mow the grass.”
A Sport England inquiry by their over-worked Pissed Down The Drain Dept found that all the people who had promised to come and watch county cricket back in 2015 were now dead.
The promised Yorkshire women’s cricket team had refused to play as it was too cold and now play in La Manga thanks to another Sport England bung, sorry grant.
England Women’s captain, Charlotte Edwards, aged 73, said “It’s jolly nice to spend my retirement here…quit…not a chance!”
The Council initiative to generate income from floodlit cricket had also failed due to a decree from the spiritual leader, Councillor Ear Ring, who had ordered them to face West, lighting up his loyal subjects in nearby Wibsey.
Despite the cuts Wibsey would remain a beacon of light in a city of darkness. Loyal subjects filled the meters daily from the slush fund named the Broadway Shopping Centre.
Four thousand plastic seats will be sold off on eBay as new and unused. Across town, once known as North Bradford and now renamed Concretopia, nobody now played cricket as all the nice grounds run by volunteers had been seized by the Council.
Director of Planning Policy, Mr Lan De Grab, explained. “Our people need houses and so we can’t have these wide opens spaces just for silly games…unless Sport England pay for them!”
Director of Finance, Mr Per Simon-Holmes, was delighted that the Council had provided a safe haven for the influx of refugees from Leeds and promised to do something about the troublesome presence of that “BD” postcode.
Mike Gatting, ECB Director of Club Cricket commented “Where’s Bradford?”
Strangely, nobody from Sport England was available for comment although there was loud snoring heard from the House of Lords.
An Early Stocking Filler
Almost a decade on from a similarly dark winter’s night and the mind altering impact of Dr Tetley’s, Rick announced that it was time to re-trace our “steps” and take on the Coast to Coast cycle challenge one more time.
Those of you that like a good yarn I hope you enjoy this old tale about our first ever adventure in the saddle.
Roll on summer and a new padded seat for Christmas please Mum?
Why I Don’t Do DIY.
It was only a light bulb; what could possibly go wrong? I don’t possess any step ladders so I grabbed a chair from the dining room. Job done, one more giant leap for mankind? Let there be light.
Smug as I was, I promptly dropped the chair, smashing the leg to pieces. Good job I don’t do dinner parties!
Still, I have a drill (largely unused), some wood glue, a box of assorted screws and a quiet weekend. What could possibly go wrong?
Here We Are Again
Spare a quid or two for a great cause? Only ten days to go!
Songs Of Life.
Without dwelling on events from last weekend, there I was sat in my car at the roadworks, rain lashing down, skies as gloomy as they could possibly be, dark days indeed. And then, as nothing else can do, music changed the day.
The unmistakable feel good start, the beautiful voice of Raul Malo and a song that has made me smile for many reasons over the years, Dance The Night Away by The Mavericks.
Memories of a night many moons ago with my impossibly beautiful young date saving me from rolling up at the cricket club dinner as Captain Solo. The music started and she beckoned me to the dance floor.
My jaw was still scraping the floor from when I had picked her up so it was not a good start. She moved with grace and rhythm whilst I lurched from salsa to satire as the floor seemingly emptied to witness us like crowds flocking to a freak show.
The Strictly judges would have slaughtered me but it was over mercilessly quickly. And yet every time I hear that song there is nothing else to do but smile a priceless smile.
Have a great weekend and keep smiling.
Leave a Reply