One Year of Cricket Et Al

GH on our site's anniversary

Happy National Pearl Harbour Remembrance Day. Also this time a year ago I was sending out the first post on what I saw as a vehicle for occasional writing on cricket and other subjects that I’d first discussed over lunch with Sam Perry. We called it Cricket Et Al. The piece was about Mitchell Johnson and David Warner in the context of the history of the signed column. Remember that imbroglio? It was about fifty tiny storms in fifty giant teacups ago…..

At the time, it happened, I had recently kissed The Australian off, had my head down writing a book, didn’t forsee much spare time, and was wary of overpromising. I see that I envisioned writing ‘about every seven to ten days, depending on what else I’m working on, what my daughter’s up to, where the Yarras are playing, whether Samsa the cat needs the vet etc.’ The first subscriber was my mum. Although, funnily enough, I notice that I specifically broached the possibility of my friend Pete Lalor, who was then still in harness at Holt Street, joining us - which a few months later he did, at first in order to revive the podcast that our previous bosses had pointlessly and spitefully killed.

Suffice to say that nothing much else has proceeded as planned. In spite of all those commitments to spending more time on the finer things in life, Cricket Et Al has gone from hobby to….well, bigger hobby anyway. Because, after all, hobbies can be very involving.

We’ve broken news like the extent of Cam Green’s injury and the truth of Adam Zampa’s selection. We’ve heard from Pat Cummins and Glenn Maxwell, had contributions from broadcast guru David Hill and ace photographer Philip Brown. In the Et Al realm, I’ve discussed matters as esoteric as gaslighting and the Wilson presidency while Pete has mourned the Sacred Cowboys and reviewed The Cure. This site is also where my memoir My Brother Jaz was born back in January.

Our unique visual signature has been provided by Fisher Classics, to whose Dan Toomey I was introduced via our playing in the same association; our podcast presence has been established by DM Media, whose producer Dave Bloom has even brought us to YouTube. A commenter recently likened us to Beavis and Butthead had they sobered up and gone to university, to which I can object only on grounds of my secondary school education.

Now we’re back on the road - I’m sending this from our monastic digs at Aquinas College in Adelaide - thanks to your subscriptions, zooming towards 10,000 with 2000 paid. We even have merch. I’m honestly not quite sure why that is, but with help has grown ambition, and with incentive has grown enthusiasm. Not that we’re ever going to be professional. As a way of explaining why we lose so many cords, sometimes forget the ‘on’ switch and get lost on the way to the cricket, Pete long ago adopted this as our theme.

But Cricket Et Al is above all committed to two things.

First, it is fun: we’re not here because it’s our job, but because we love the game and enjoy the company. For the only problem of working with Pete is that he can be more entertaining than the cricket we’re meant to be watching…..

Second, it is independent: we’re our own bosses, and have nobody to satisfy but ourselves. Not that in forty-one years of journalism I ever took much notice of editors or proprietors, but with the best will in the world I reckon it’s getting harder to be your own person in this game. We’ll make mistakes - hell, we already have. But we’ll own them because they’ll be ours.

Anyway, as it’s time to toddle down the hill for the second day, it remains only for me to thank you for the support that has made this highly experimental enterprise possible. I’ve no idea what we’ll be doing next Pearl Harbour Day. But hopefully I’ll be doing it with Pete, Sam, Dan and Dave.