The unseen art of a foreign game

How difficult could cricket turf management really be? Thrust into the job, veteran turf pro Zachary LaPorte gained a new appreciation — and racked up just a bit of self-loathing.

© zachary laporte

Being at the helm of a multi-sport facility, particularly one with natural grass, presents a unique set of challenges. While agronomic knowledge serves as a strong foundation for maintaining turfgrass, the intricacies of preparation and upkeep can be vastly different across various sports.

This revelation became apparent when I assumed the role of director of agronomy for Desert Springs Resort, where I oversee the maintenance of a diverse range of areas, including several gardens and public areas around the resort, a championship golf course, soccer installations and ICC-credited cricket installations. Desert Springs hosts a yearly DP World Tour event and several professional European soccer clubs train there during the off-season. For cricket, Desert Springs hosts several World Cup qualifier tournaments and professional club matches and training camps.

For the purposes of this article, let’s delve into the world of turfgrass management, particularly cricket.

Initially, my confidence in handling golf and soccer led me to underestimate the nuances of cricket turf management. The maintenance of a soccer field, while demanding, is like maintaining a colossal tee. Yes, I know it is oversimplifying it. We all know how hard it is to maintain a golf course.

Cricket, on the other hand, is a whole different ball game — pun intended. It’s a niche job, often referred to as the “dark arts” in Britain, and for good reason. I take off my hat to the groundsmen who produce these incredible playing surfaces. They are truly a talented group and deserve more recognition for what they can achieve with turfgrass.

The outfield, while needing to be pretty, fast and firm, poses relatively few challenges. The real magic happens on the main square, where the wickets are situated. Let’s simplify the process, albeit sarcastically, as I apologize in advance to the true groundsmen for any oversimplification.

First, transform the surface, which comprises 33 percent clay, into something as hard as asphalt using a three-ton roller. Do this for 20 to 30 minutes at a time, three to five times a day, for two weeks. Simultaneously reduce the ryegrass height from 12 millimeters down to 4 to 8 millimeters, brush the turf five to 10 times a day (yes, brush!), and lightly verticut frequently to eliminate all thatch.

The goal? Turn the grass white — essentially lifeless — and a produce a rock-hard surface for adequate ball bounce. Once desired color and firmness are achieved, it’s game time. Oh, and don’t forget, you can’t kill the grass entirely, as you'll need to recover the wicket for a quick turnaround for future matches. This all happens in scorching desert conditions with next to no water input that might ruin the playing surface. And getting it wrong can be dangerous to the players. A bad surface can create a bad bounce and players can get hit and injured by cricket balls speeding at 90 miles per hour or more. No wonder they call it the dark arts.

My path took an unexpected twist when, on the day before the cricket season started, our groundsman — to whom I was line manager and who had made it all look deceptively easy — accepted an offer for another position in England. The cricket world is small and, thanks to Brexit, finding a replacement for the season proved nearly impossible. In a moment of overconfidence, I decided to step in to save the day. Cue overconfident-sounding music and the superintendent’s slow-motion entrance to save the day.

Then quickly cue the in-over-his-head panic music and the superintendent crying in a corner after the first three hours.

I quickly understood that I was in the deep end and only had a small rubber ducky to keep me afloat. I think I can safely say I quickly studied everything that the internet has about cricket wicket preparation. There is a guideline to follow and lots of the setup is standard. But what I consistently found was that everything focused on wicket prep for a match is all about feel and experience. Give a monkey (me) a two-week prep plan and it would get done, but the monkey (me again) wouldn’t know if he was doing it right. And more times than I care to admit, I didn’t.

I soon realized that while there are guidelines to follow, much of the process relies on intuition and experience. Imagine handing a cup cutter to someone who’s never played golf, instructing them how to use the cup cutter, then saying, “All right, go ahead and change the positions of the flags on the greens." The mental image that conjures is a comical chaos — flags up against the collars, positioned in the middle of severe slopes, flags sticking out of the ground at very interesting angles. It’s a recipe for disaster.

This scenario perfectly illustrates the point I’m trying to make. Without a fundamental understanding of how golf is played and why flags are strategically placed, the person wielding the cup cutter becomes a hapless amateur, much like I was when I first took charge of a three-ton roller on the cricket field.

An experienced groundsman possesses an innate sense of when to ease off on rolling, when to brush more vigorously or precisely how much water to apply to the pitch. It’s an intuitive understanding honed through years of hands-on experience. In much the same way, superintendents can step out in the morning, sense the moisture in the air and the slight rise in temperatures, and instinctively decide to apply a fungicide. This is the essence of experience in our field.

I owe much of my growth to the support and guidance of my peers and friends and, dare I say, “fellow” groundsmen. I’ve made mistakes, faced challenges, but also experienced moments of enjoyment and learned new things. For me, new experiences are the meaning of life.

We now have a qualified groundsman on board who is performing wonderfully. After six months in this role, I now have a better understanding and appreciation of what it takes to be a groundsman for a top-tier cricket installation. But also equally important, if not moreso, is what is needed to safeguard against stress and burnout among the team — a severe problem in the industry.

My belief in understanding a job from the ground up has been reaffirmed, making me a better leader and manager. The cricket experience has enriched my skillset, allowing me to excel in my line management role while also deepening my appreciation for the intricacies of turfgrass management.

My journey in cricket turf management has been one of self-discovery and growth. It’s a testament to the importance of embracing new challenges and continually learning in our professional lives. Who knows what the future holds, but I’m ready for whatever pitch comes my way. Again, pun intended!

Zachary LaPorte has worked in the industry for more than 25 years and is currently resort superintendent at Desert Springs Resort in Almeria, Spain. This is his second Turfheads Take Over contribution.

Read Next

Go West, young man

December 2023
Explore the December 2023 Issue

Check out more from this issue and find your next story to read.