product history
How Sticky Wicky came to the usa
It happened by “coincidence” in Australian summer of 2019.
I had just left a meeting in Sydney and contacted the Uber driver that had dropped me in the center of town, to see if he could come back and get me. Negative. He was too far out.
Sad, but not distraught, I pulled up the app which signaled a random driver. I stood in the midst of the hustle and bustle trying to wrap my head around the plans for introducing a form of backyard cricket to the States. I contemplated the journey up to this point, how many thought we’d not get this far. “Cricket in the States is a pipe dream,” some said. “You’re wasting your time,” said others.
These thoughts followed me into the car and the pleasantries commenced, the annoying dialogues of the past almost a subconscious soundtrack as I explained my accent, why I was there and from what meeting I left. I waited for the standard, “I didn’t know they played cricket in the United States,” response.
It never came.
The response instead was, “well, if you’re looking for equipment, I have a friend, she’s Canadian. She loves cricket and she created an entire line of cricket products.”
My mouth hung open just a bit.
He continued nonchalantly, not realizing that he just gave me information worth more (to me, anyway) than a winning powerball ticket. “So, if you’re looking for some other things to sell, I could give you her details,” he concluded.
After an enthusiastic, “Yes!” from me, he realized he didn’t have them.
Gutted, I handed over mine, prayed they wouldn’t get lost in a shuffle of papers and got out in Annandale, replaying the conversation over and over and over again in my head, quieting the voices of the past which plagued me just minutes before.
I waited for what seemed like an eternity. Truth be told, it was more like four days.
I got a call from Cathy, the absolutely lovely, brilliant Canadian woman behind Sticky Wicky. After weeks of trying to meet up (that, my friends, is another tale), she was able to finally tell me -her- story over herbal tea and coffee in an oceanside Sydney suburb.
I hung on every word.
“What is the likelihood,” I began, “that a cricket mad American woman, and a cricket mad Canadian woman, would each create their own cricket brand, then ‘randomly’ meet in Australia, and make plans to join forces.”
“Not very likely,” she responded.
_____
“Hey,” Cathy messaged, can you talk?
“Sure!” I replied.
The exchange was one of surprise, but the final outcome was
“We know you’ll do the Sticky Wicky brand proud, we’d like you to have it.”
“Us? Own a…a brand? Uhhh….I’m a teacher by trade, hardly one to know how to buy a brand, but yes, absolutely, let’s figure out how.”
And that, my friends, is how a cultural American company came to own a brand of kids’ cricket equipment.
History of First Tests
Q: Why do you guys sell a book?
A: Oddly enough, I also asked that question…
“Why do you guys sell a book?” I innocently asked Cathy. “It doesn’t look like a ‘how to play cricket’ book.”
“Pete picked up this book at the airport and read the whole thing cover to cover. This may not sound odd, but we had been married 15 years and I had NEVER seen Pete read a book - let alone finish one. I thought, ‘I gotta meet the guy whose words had captivated his attention.’ So, I just happen to know someone who worked with Steve…”
“As you do…” I interjected knowingly with a grin
“As you do.” She returned the grin. “I asked Steve for his autograph and told him about SW and we arranged to promote his book on our site.”
“Wow,” was all I could muster before an idea came to me. “Do you think…do you think you could introduce us? Maybe I’ll be able to meet him someday.”
——-
That someday was about 2 years later.
(Very tired Stephenson and Cannane meet up for a chat in London 20 Oct 2021)
“How does a news correspondent come to write a book about backyard cricket?” I asked, completely intrigued.
“I just started asking myself questions,” he began, “after one of my mates from the team explained his unorthodox hook shot was because as a kid he had to keep the ball away from the windows. So we all started talking and realized we could attribute some part of our play to the backyard. That had to be true for professionals too. I started looking at other players with unique styles and asked to interview people who knew them and there it was…the answer was just so obvious…players responded to the environment around them. Don Bradman practiced with a golf ball, his style was a product of -his- practice in his yard.”
He named legendary players like McGrath, Lillee, Brett Lee all with different styles, different stories, but similar outcomes: their unique, incredible ways of handling the professional game came because of how much they enjoyed playing as kids, because of them playing in the space they had: farms, fields, driveways, tight housing complexes.
“That’s what I’m trying to tell people in the States,” I commented awestruck, wide-eyed and honestly flabbergasted. “You just proved it.”
I put down my pen and just stared at the man who…who understood.
——
It’s like how in the Bluey episode called “Cricket” (I’ll wax lyrical about that episode in another post…but I’ll put this observation here.) shows how cricketers are made in backyards, in alleyways, in spaces where friends and family gather and play.
Rusty learned how to play in the backyard. His style came from trying not to break his mom’s windows and from playing on tough, hard playing surfaces, because that is all his friend had to play on. Those experiences prepared him for the more traditional game and for the pace balls that life can bowl to us.
It's refreshing to see how the simple enjoyment of the game in simple surroundings not only creates treasured memories but also fosters incredible problem-solving skills and resilience.
This is why we still carry First Tests: Great Australian Cricketers and the Backyards That Made Them by Steve Cannane.
