Marieke is a Dutch journalist and photographer who has been documenting street culture across Europe for over a decade.
The Life Cycle of a Movement tends to be marked by clear stages.
An inspiring figure or leaders propose an innovative concept that promises a panacea for struggling players.
And so it goes. Plans are in motion to storm the compound down in Brisbane. Pressure is mounting. Signs of trouble appear from the sidelines. An isolated player, naked, nervous, the words HIGH RELEASE POINT smeared across his chest as a symbol, has emerged from the field and is removed in secrecy towards an inconclusive loan stint at Derbyshire.
Remember the beginning, when everything was fresh? The era of early Bazball, of uninhibited aggression.
Cult leaders guarantee a fresh beginning, hope for a future, support, salvation within a community who all believe in the big idea.
How did it feel initially? A team united enjoying success. Tattoos. Muscles. Focus. Peak performance vibes. Admittedly, The team insist it’s not a real term, ironically since it’s not recognized, what exactly did I just watch?
However, everyone understands its essence. It’s the player attempting a move so unconventional it’s beyond belief. It’s the excitement of the leader at his peak, a demeanor suggesting: thoughtful warrior, strong features, natural look, so authentically Modern Savage you almost imagine to glance over and find him positioned on the ground bare-chested holding a fish.
It’s the batsman continuing to have permission speaking publicly, resembling a cheerful animal smartly dressed, uttering phrases such as we are actively deconstructing the orange. And yes, the atmosphere, for quite a long time, was only good energy.
Development stage. Unity enforced through repetition of mantras. These ideas may seem irrational as a test of “true belief”.
Does anyone else feel? The criticism, the fury, the disappointment following the initial loss seems too strong, unwarranted. The performance was poor on the field, as is typical there. They were dominated in the field for a couple of hours as the bowling and captaincy fell apart, outplayed by the batsman imitating their style effectively, adaptive to conditions, an athlete shining with a kind of light around him.
And now we have this the pile-on, the anger, the perception of the team as a failure. The consensus is that losing isn’t enough, they need to lose righteously, to be cleansed, obliterated, destroyed via traditional methods of the pace attack, the low-fi orthodoxies of the veteran, out there celebrating successes modestly as if receiving a rewarding prize. What will this do to them?
Challenges surface due to setbacks. However, faults are ignored. It begins to thrive on anger towards critics.
The fact remains, approaching the next match, we are at an intriguing moment in the story of this movement. Victory is possible in Brisbane with bold tactics. More likely, failure may follow. And if they do lose it appears we really might be entering the death cult phase.
Before that happens, several aspects to note on the topic. In the past, back in those heady early days, of light and heat, a column appeared labeling it a movement. People were very angry, which was helpful since it’s clear how to confirm lack of cult status is when its acolytes react defensively denying scrutiny of the philosophy.
The developments in the last few days are fascinating. Opposition to the style has now become the cult. We have a uniformly angry internet, disappointed commentators, shots of angry middle-aged followers overseas disappointed by the short match, similar to timeshare owners seeking justice.
Conversely, there is the broader context of the host’s complex more culturally hard-wired exasperation towards the unconventional visitors, claiming, your cherished traditions and have honed as part of your identity culturally from us, well, it’s all a bit of a gag after all.
Here lies the truth. It’s all cults. Bazball was a cult since the sport itself is insular. In fact, English cricket has always been a cult, a clique, an elite gathering, a restricted environment with two hundred years of tradition and mystery defining it. This has always been where influence is guarded. It’s the colonial game of the British, the pioneering brand. And guess what, the nation has its own culture, a structure of hidden ranks, a place that literally still has a king.
The players have been enclosed in this environment since childhood. Seeking change, to foster positivity, they are mirroring their own experience, building another enclosure, a limited community, but now with a modern squad and a coach who wants you to be yourself if you fit the mold.
Focus on the moment. Confront risks. However much you change, you’re always basically in the same place.
With this mind, it might be appropriate to offer compassion for the approach, to recognize its positives, of which there are many. What does it represent? Creating a sense of freedom. Challenging orthodoxies. Batting aggressively|Attacking with
Marieke is a Dutch journalist and photographer who has been documenting street culture across Europe for over a decade.