Whole Life Times: Cricket in Compton

October 2004

Cricket in Compton

Dress whites and gentlemanly demeanor replace gangsta rap and mayhem as South Los Angeles locals take to the field

by Enrique Gili

A slender reed of a man with long dreadlocks, Ted Hayes, 53, lopes towards his opponent. Ball in hand, Hayes flails his arm in a threshing motion reminiscent of an off-kilter Ferris wheel spinning heavenward. Just below the apex of his whirly-gig rotation, he heaves a red leather-bound ball spiraling towards the crouching batsman. Anticipating the ball’s rapid-fire delivery, the batsman takes the ball on a bounce, sending it soaring into the outfield. In quick succession, Compton fielders scramble after balls that rain down in all directions and hit well beyond the reach of their outstretched hands.

Fortunately, the batter is mercifully retired, marking a designated break in the action. Teammates in tow, Hayes strides to the sidelines and eases himself into a chair, looking both relieved and tired. After a moment’s pause, Hayes leans forward conspiratorially and whispers about the batter, “If it weren’t for cricket, that boy would be a stone-cold killer.”

Ted Hayes is a righteous man with a warrior’s spirit. As an activist and shelter director for Dome Village, he’s been mixing sports with redemption for two decades. This time it’s cricket, of all things, in Compton, of all places.

The team was Hayes’ brainchild. Not content to supply temporary housing to the homeless, he had a flash of inspiration that a cricket team would improve the lives of some of society’s forgotten people. Promoting the sport as a meaningful alternative to drugs, crime and gang violence, he started a team for the homeless and began recruiting young players from the mean streets of Compton.

Hayes co-manages the team with Katy Haber, a novice he roped into playing one game, 11 years ago, when “she could barely wield the bat.” The business-like Haber shoulders the day-to-day grind of match logistics, leaving Hayes to play the role of charismatic front man.

Hayes embraces the game and all that it represents. A non-contact sport with rules and regulations based on etiquette, cricket “has a civilizing effect,” says Hayes. With its origins on the village greens of rural England, the sport reflects the cultural norms of a bygone era. Players still take to the field in dress whites, break for teatime and refer to each other as “gentlemen.”

“It’s the spirit of the game that matters,” says Hayes. He believes cricket teaches his players not to succumb to pressure, both on and off the field. “Tenacity, focus and discipline,” he says, are the hallmarks of true cricket champions.

On this tranquil Sunday afternoon in the heart of the San Fernando Valley, the Compton Cricket Club is squaring off against the Springbok Colonials, a team of ex-pats from the four corners of the globe.

Hayes points to key team members Ricardo Salgado, Joseph Corborio and Sergio Pinelas, who, in addition to his sons Theo and Isaac, round out a squad that includes six pairs of brothers who live, practice and play within a 10-block radius of each other. The young men consider themselves to be members of an extended family united by a love for friends, family and cricket.

At 24, Sergio Pinales is the elder statesmen. Pinales’ brother, Steve died in a motorcycle accident; Saldago has served time in state prison. “You become your environment. We’re trying to break the cycle,” says Pinales. “Playing cricket is a temporary release from the pressures of living in the barrio,” he continues. “It’s group therapy.” The squad shows respect for the game and for each other, regardless of what may be happening beyond the relative safety of the playing field.

Compton is a killing ground for young men like Pinales. According to the Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department, Los Angeles has 90,000 active gang members who account for half the homicides in the county. Compton’s murder rate is the highest in the Southland. Fifty-four gang related murders were committed in Compton last year, comparable to mid-sized cities with much larger populations.

The team has toured England twice, demonstrating their skill in exhibition matches to the delight of cricket fans. They were received by royalty and commanded media attention usually reserved for rock stars.

Today, none of that seems to matter. After an eight-month hiatus from practice and competition, the team is playing poorly—their batters are striking out in rapid succession. “Champions should play like champions,” declares Saldago, commenting on the team’s sub par performance. Hayes assures him that it’s wise not to play hard too early in the season.

Both the Compton team and their opponent are part of the Los Angeles Social Cricket Alliance, a community league whose members play for pride and bragging rights in bars and playgrounds throughout the city. In prior years, Hayes has lead his team to two league cup championships.

Hayes holds the team together, chiding when they screw up, praising when they do well. “Life is a challenge. When someone’s mad-dogging, you walk it off and rise above it,” says Hayes.

This day, Hayes is the alpha dog in question. At times bombastic and abrasive, he shifts gears between needling the opponents and delivering barbs at his own players. In the heat of the late-afternoon sun, a teammate collapses on the field, drawing a circle of concerned onlookers. Hayes bellows from the sidelines, castigating players for not warming up before innings. When it’s suggested the player might be suffering from dehydration, Hayes response is, “He’s an adult; he ought to know better.”

A young man needs to get to work. Hayes lets him know in strong language that there’s the entire team to consider. The guys grin sheepishly and respond with quips of their own, working off Hayes manic energy. It’s apparent they’re fond of him and the tension quickly disperses.

Hayes envisions a day when cricket fever has swept the country. In Los Angeles, the sport has undergone a revival; cricket leagues are thriving with the influx of new arrivals from India and Pakistan. Hayes hopes to capitalize on these cricket mad ex-pats. Los Angeles, he believes, is ripe for a pro league with the Compton crew at the forefront, as ambassadors for the sport barnstorming across America. He believes a full-time coach and salaried players are keystones to igniting cricket mania.

The guys are far more pragmatic. They just want to live, work and play in peace. Today’s loss doesn’t seem to faze them. Pinales’ parting words are, “Come back in October. Then we’ll see who’s cup champion.”

Enrique Gili last wrote for WLT on Treepeople for our July issue.

Recommend this page to a friend

Top Ten pages recommended to friends: