This one-man cricket play premiered last summer in the wake of Azeem Rafiq’s emotional testimony of his experiences as a British Asian player. A revised version now opens the week that a major report has found the English game guilty of deep-rooted racism. The story by playwright maatin, about a young cricket fanatic of Indian heritage may be set in the celebrated Ashes summer of 2005, but it could not feel more topical.
Ismail has just been promoted to the first XI and his ambitions are running high, sights set on his school’s all-time scoring record before he has even faced a ball. His Tendulkar-obsessed father calls him The Little Master; his friends call him Smiley because they can’t pronounce his name; his new coach calls him “boy” and seems not to like him very much.
From a first excitable appearance in stripy blazer and Reeboks – doing the sprinkler dance to Mambo No 5 – Omar Bynon wins our sympathy for the trials and frustrations of a 15-year-old encountering “off” attitudes that he can’t quite place. As Ismail’s father points out, there is plenty to be grateful for (he attends a posh private school and lives in a house with a view of Lord’s, so a lot is going right for him). Yet his relatable teenage wrestle with identity and belonging is further complicated by both his race and religion, and even the cricket pitch ceases to be a refuge.
Bynon’s immaculate cover drives intimate that he might be a bit handy with a bat himself and his engaging 90-minute performance owes much to the direction of Imy Wyatt Corner, as well as Maariyah Sharjil’s design. Charming hand-drawn illustrations and video footage from famous games, projected on to several backdrops, interact with music, sound and even Ismail’s own fantasy commentary. The dramatic climax was a bit too startling in last year’s Jermyn Street production; here it works better, with the addition of a literal pause for thought.
But the most affecting moments remain the simplest and most mundane ones, such as when Ismail’s coach dismisses his complaints about the abuse he’s received. “I’m sure it’s just some playful banter,” he says – a line Azeem Rafiq, for one, has heard before.
At the Arcola, London, until 15 July
