Cricket Witness No 1 - Class Peace

60 The Working Class Cricketer There were two counterweights to these superficially attractive figures. On the one side, the season lasted only 22 weeks and the search for winter work could be difficult, particularly as the economy became evermore factory-based and the old-time piece work in cottage industries that had stood the veteran pros in good stead decayed. On the other side, the cricketers had to pay for their own kit and equipment and also the costs of accommodation and meals. These first-class cricketers also had to buy their own third-class railway tickets for away matches. Most tradesmen then had to buy and maintain the tools of their craft, which most of them did with affectionate care, but the factory system, whether based on mill, mine or foundry, was normally community-centred; the majority of workers walked to work. Taking a pot-shot at an individual case, one might estimate that a regular first eleven player, appearing in most games for a relatively well-to-do county team would earn £3 to £4 a week over a full year. Even with the burden of away match costs, but bearing in mind the possibility of winter work, this compares favourably with not only the top layer of the working class but also the bottom layer of the middle class. Professional cricketers in this regard were, therefore, among those working class men who through force of circumstance enjoyed similar life-styles with the million or so middle-class men with annual salaries of around £100 more or less. Especially in the cities, where first-class cricket was chiefly played, they must have rented the same type of accommodation, made their purchases in the same type of shops, had their children attending the same type of school, led their families in attendance at the same type of church, encountered one another on the same type of family walks, and so on. What remained constant was that the working man in this situation was sat proudly on top of his world while the middle class gentleman felt humbled and disconsolate at the bottom of his social ladder. They were worse off in that they had to keep up appearances. The Diary of a Nobody , the classic account of lower middle class social humiliations and foiled ambitions, conveys this sensibility admirably. Written by George and illustrated by his brother Weedon Grossmith, it was published in 1892 after serialisation in Punch , with Mr Charles Pooter, a sedate City of London clerk, residing at the Laurels, Brickfield Terrace, Holloway, the diffident diarist. Nonetheless, this overlap of class income helped build the arch that bridged the gap between the classes and contributed to the comparative lack of social acrimony at this time. In that the amateur cricketer came from the higher echelons of middle and upper class background, this did not apply so aptly to the actual alliance of professionals and gentlemen in cricketing play. In fact, the players must also have been wryly aware that many of the gentlemen were better remunerated than themselves. With plentiful expenses and bogus posts like assistant secretary, the counties contrived to uphold a scandalous Shamateur regime for a hundred years. It was all the result of the tension between an adoration of sporting ethics