Cultural understanding key to nuturing South Asian talent

Why are so few cricketers of South Asian heritage making it through to the professional level in Australia?

Usman Khawaja and Travis Head celebrate a wicket in the first Test against India.

A former classmate of mine shifted base with his young family to Perth a few months ago. Raghu had been in Chennai for a few years prior to his move, where his 12-year-old son had kickstarted an impressive young cricket career. And one of the first questions Raghu had for me was about which cricket club he should get his son into.

And while I was listing out options that would prove convenient for him, with regards to where he lives, my old friend shot a couple of very direct questions at me. “Just tell me which club has the best record of producing state cricketers, and also if there’s one where there are other Indian kids so that my boy doesn’t feel out of place. I don’t mind driving for an hour each way.”

What Raghu had done was in a nutshell summed up the mind-set of most South Asian parents who move to Australia and are keen on their kids embracing cricket as their primary sport. He’d also unintentionally ended up highlighting one of the prime reasons for the high drop-off rate in players of South Asian origin that Cricket Australia is trying so hard to rectify going forward.

For, he’d admitted to what I’ve always known to be the big cultural difference in how driving around your kid to the oval on weekends is viewed in the expat community as compared to the more traditional Australian families.

For most South Asian expats, it’s looked at as a potential investment after all. It’s rarely just a thing you do as a parent. I’m of course making a generalisation here as a lot of opinions on these matters tend to be. But it’s an educated generalisation.

At least, Raghu is in an industry that can be considered well-paying. But that’s not the case for so many like him who’ve made the move here for a better future, for themselves but more importantly for their kids. So, giving up a Saturday afternoon for the sake of a cricket match, could easily mean turning down a source for an additional income, which surely affects the bigger picture. That in turn leads to make-or-break moments in the careers of many young cricketers of South Asian origin, where decisions get made for them based on whether there’s a real future in pursuing cricket as a vocation or not. For starters, yes, it is looked at as a pursuit.

Sydney Thunder captain David Warner with Woolworths Cricket Blast kids earlier this month. Picture: Phil Hillyard

Not to forget that parents often end up being decision-makers for longer in these subcontinental expat families, whereas by 16-18, the kids have a bigger say on their own lives in white Australian families. The result being a firm push towards academics, which often means turning your back on full-time cricket.

It’s also significant to point out that the concept of break years or leaving academics to then come back to it is still largely alien to Indian and Pakistani expats in particular.

In his well-researched article for the Weekend Australian, Jacob Kuriype has spoken to a number of those who have broken through the barriers, in more ways than one, and it’s revealing that all of them made the cut for higher honours before they reached the tricky Year 10 to Year 12 period in their school lives.

You don’t have to even look at the numbers, which show that there are over a million people in Australia currently who were born in the Indian subcontinent, to understand why CA are so keen for their representative teams to reflect the multicultural state of the country.

You’d have heard a lot of them too as part of the Bharat Army at the Perth Stadium last week, where Raghu was among thousands of Indian voices that echoed over the four days of the opening Test. More so after the second session on the opening day, once Jasprit Bumrah had a ball in his hands.

The Bharat Army turned up in their thousands at last week’s first Test between Australia and Inida in Perth. Picture: Getty

The issue is real though. How can it be that 40 per cent of all under-12 players in Australia are of South Asian descent right now, but they then only make up 4 per cent of those representing the states at the senior level. How can Usman Khawaja, Ashton Agar, Alana King and Lisa Sthalekar be the only Test players that this country has had, either born in South Asia or born to South Asian parents.

I don’t want to say that it’s purely a financial issue. There is also a significant lack of cultural understanding across the board. And though for the purpose of this column, I’m couching them all as South Asians, it’s safe to say there’s also the inherent disparity between the Indian, Pakistani, Sri Lankan and Bangladeshi psyche when it comes to parenting.

The one aspect that there is a commonality though is in the parent-coach relationship. You see where we come from, the cricket coach is put on the same pedestal as a school teacher or principal. He or she is pseudo parent while the kid is in their care on the field. The reason why the coach is always referred to as “Sir” or “Madam”. And the one thing they seek desperately is constant feedback. About how their son or daughter are doing with their cricket and if, even more significantly, they have a future in it. And I can easily imagine how confusing it must be for a school-level coach to have to deal with these questions on a weekly basis.

Alana King starred for the Australian team that won the women’s T20 cricket gold medal at the Birmingham 2022 Commonwealth Games. Picture: Getty

So, when Khawaja speaks about having not had anyone to relate with as a teammate or as a coach during his pioneering journey to the top, you understand why. The need therefore to have more coaches from a similar background who understand the relationship they’re expected to share with a parent of a kid under their watch is monumental. Or to least have someone with the understanding to play the perfect conduit.

Then there’s also the whole inclusivity angle to how the parents are made to feel more like they fit-in too when it comes to off-field extracurriculars. While it’s imperative that they are made to indulge in the culture here, whether it’s through Bowls Nights or Dog’s Nights, the reciprocal cannot simply be organising a “Curry Night”, when you realise that curry itself means different things in different parts of India and the larger subcontinent.

It’s great to see CA take so many measures to fix the disproportion, which includes the Multicultural Ambassador program, which I’m honoured to be a part of. The focus needs to be on managing the drop-off better.

The thing with most South Asian families is that they’re more all-in than even what you’ll find with the average white Australian parents. Once they realise there’s a tangible incentive to sacrificing time, energy and money towards their kids’ cricket. They’ll build them nets, like was the case in both the Jason Sangha and Arjun Nair households. They’ll go the extra mile.

And if CA play their cards right, they might well exceed their goal of having 8 per cent South Asian representation at first-class, state and WBBL-BBL level by 2027. I can promise you that Raghu’s son will surely be in the mix.