Recently, about three weeks ago, I had the good fortune of going to Zimbabwe. I say good fortune, because it is amongst the most beautiful of countries, with amazing mountains and granite domes that rise out of the ground, and passionate, friendly people.
I was at CFX, the local cricket club, having lunch with a beloved friend. It was rather pleasant, with Mashonaland playing against Matebeleland.
Of course, I get a little fired up whenever I watch cricket, so I decided to wander over to the nets, and turn my arm over against the Zimbabwean U/19's.
Along my walk, I came across the burnt out shell of the old Cricket Academy, still not repaired. Almost a symbol of cricket in Zimbabwe, a remnant of Mark Vermeulen's rage against the Zimbabwean regime.
I remember the days, the days of Andy Flower. The days of Neil Johnson and Henry Olonga. Those were the days when Zimbabwe weren't a walkover, they were a true challenge. To even the strongest of sides.
Then came the mass exodus, as Neil, Andy, Henry, Grant, Heath, Guy, Murray, and a whole lot more, spread their wings and disappeared from Zimbabwean cricket forever.
It dawned upon me as I practised with those Zimbabwean boys that if the world calls for the sanctioning against Zimbabwean cricket, we deny the very people suffering under the regime the pleasure of watching cricket and building patriotism for their own country.
Because only patriotism can save Zimbabwean cricket.
Only patriotism can save Zimbabwe.
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