Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating * * * * *
“The English are not a very spiritual people, so they invented cricket to give them some idea of eternity…”, however, it might not be as simple as time suggests, nor as easy as the pundit and fan wishes that it were, for an eternity in the minds of the devoted who worship the swing of the red ball and the poise of the bat on guard, is but a partial second in the mind of the one occupying the crease, a split second in which their weapon parries the hurled round missile away past deep extra cover for six, or in which the mind wanders, and the wicket is taken, taking a fine nick at The Edge.
To become the best takes sacrifice, an eternity of thought coming down to one moment, one second, one decision, it might not be spiritual, but it is in the minds of many, a religion all of its own, and like any religion, any icon, and disciple of the game, can become a God of sorts, a hero to thousands, or they can see themselves lose faith, not so much a sermon on the mount, but a prayer, a conversation between mind, matter and strength of spirit.
Cricket is perhaps unique in the way it is treated by the fan and sceptic alike, the devoted will happily espouse the virtue of a draw played out over five days, the disbeliever will doubt that anything good can come of a game without a positive outcome, and yet show both of them a confrontation between batsman and bowler, reveal to them the struggle that some face after several years of pure concentration, and both will find ways to talk about the mental strength required, and yet still the agnostic will suggest they could do the job of an opening batsman without much fuss.
The Edge is surely one of the deepest and sensitively portrayed documentaries of its type, not only concerned with explaining the drive and determination that the England Cricket head coach, Andy Flower, and newly installed Captain, Andrew Strauss, demanded of the team to become the first English side to attain the coveted World Number One slot, but also the physical relationship between purpose, will and mental health in which several of the players were forced to confront during their time in a side that produced results, and became national heroes.
The sceptic will always denounce the delivery of such statements, but we expect heroes to be more than men and women, more than people with feelings, in the same way we assume our parents to be infallible, impervious to strain and pressure, we look to those placed in the position of greatness as shouldering the burden of expectation with humour, grace and style, that it should be an honour to open the innings at Lords, to take wickets in front of thousands inside Old Trafford; and whilst that it is certainly the case, we must also allow the demonstration and act of care to be noticed, seen and adhered to, to understand that you can be hero, but it is okay to admit that sometimes you are not okay, that the wicket is not as precious as your mental health.
The relationship between Kevin Pietersen and England’s hierarchy has been much documented, and revealed to show a different side to the argument of the time, but what is perhaps more revealing in the documentary is how Jonathan Trott, one of the country’s finest batsman, became so damaged, so embroiled in torment in his role, that he could barely hold himself erect on the field. To hear, to witness such a great man talk openly about his fears, his battle on and off the field, is an eye opener, a warning to all not to take success as the be all and end all, not if it means losing a part of yourself, a part of your soul.
Fantastically filmed, riveting and informative, and with terrific insight from the likes of James Anderson, Stuart Broad, Andy Flower, Steve Finn, and of course Jonathan Trott, The Edge is a powerful reminder of the beauty of the game, the nature of the battle on the field, but also illuminating the war that can go on in the head, one that we need to take care of more, to take care of those playing close at The Edge, the heroes who give all.
Ian D. Hall