- Fair Game, by Alex Blackwell. Hachette, $32.99.
Surely thousands of Australian kids would dream of being awarded their first baggy green at the age of 19, playing 251 games of cricket for Australia, captaining the side, and winning the Ashes and a World Cup?
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Alex Blackwell has actually lived that dream, and can proudly boast that "no woman in history has won more matches for the Australian women's cricket tram than me". Nonetheless, Blackwell's account of "this wonderfully majestic yet sometimes brutal game" is more nuanced and considered than the stock, triumphalist memoirs of retired sports figures.
Blackwell declares that "at times I have clearly felt rejected and unwanted in cricket". In part she attributes this reaction to her position as "a gay woman in the male-dominated and homophobic world of sport". In addition to her sexuality, she focuses on her role as "an accidental advocate for increasing diversity and equity in sport". Blackwell, who retired in 2019 and works as both genetic counsellor and cricket commentator, was and is brave, both in expressing her opinions and in playing her chosen game.
A governor of an Indian state used to devote her spare time to writing chronicles of Indian goddesses, each one designed to inspire young women with their secret super powers and capacity to influence life for the better. Traditionally, sports biographies have performed a somewhat similar function. Talent is augmented by hard work; injuries and errors are overcome; victories are planned, executed well and richly deserved; the game itself is a venerable and noble pursuit. Even consistent excellence does not guarantee a lively memoir; Sachin Tendulkar's bulky life story somehow manages to be quite dull.
The platonic form of the heartwarming sports story genre might appear on the day when Ash Barty tells us what enabled her so gloriously to "do my thing". That is something to look forward to. In the meantime, Blackwell's book assiduously avoids the customary tropes. She is spikier, more candid and more emphatic. Where routine sports memoirs would confide one or two secrets from the dressing room (often not to team mates' advantage), Blackwell is prepared to expose rather more about her motives, emotions and intentions.
Her book is punctuated by engaging episodes, whether about a kiss ("wonderful and overwhelming"), being obliged to wear old men's training uniforms, being awarded a signed poster, scoring a duck in a critical match, or listening to music to remind herself to move her feet in the nets.
After myriad experiences, Blackwell concludes that her "strongest lesson" for putative leaders is that "diversity of thought is required to enhance performance and to help safeguard teams and organisations from potentially catastrophic groupthink". The sandpaper incident is cited in support of that judgment.