Autism, cricket and me: How the sport helped Andrew Edwards deal with grief

All life's problems, stresses, anxieties and worries seemingly drift away when I watch an England Test match, either in person or on television

When I was diagnosed as autistic at the age of four in April 1989, the specialist crassly and cruelly told my mother Hazel to “go home and watch Rain Man… in all probability your son will be institutionalised”.

Although I would like to think that myself and my recently departed ma proved the specialist’s grim prognosis to be extremely wide of the mark, autism will always be an enormous part of my life. 

Autism is a lifelong developmental disorder characterised by difficulties with social interaction and communication, along with restricted and repetitive behaviour. It is a spectrum condition with so many variants that even I fail to understand it myself at times as it is so complex. 

Some autism can be non-verbal and some who deal with it can be very physically impaired. Each person is very much an individual. 

It was said to affect males four to five times more than females. Although, quite rightly, it is now widely recognised that females mask their autism more effectively and may therefore take much longer to diagnose.

My diagnosis came about as I hadn’t yet uttered a word whilst lining my toy cars up in a repetitive order. I also had difficulty with the other usual milestones that very young children achieve long before age four. 

^{Andrew Edwards at the crease}

Today, I am very sociable with loads of close mates but socialising can and usually does totally emotionally drain me. The emotional effort can be immense.

I have issues with processing and perception along with an eating disorder, uncontrollable addictive behaviours (not alcohol, gambling or drug related I hasten to add) and, in the past, terrible meltdowns that have resulted in items in the house being broken.

And, for me, cricket has been a huge part in keeping control of my emotions.

I was first exposed to the game when my beloved, late ma turned on the BBC in the summer of 1991 during The Wisden Trophy to get a few minutes’ peace from her six-year-old autistic son at a very difficult time in her life. 

I was totally captivated by the commentaries of Richie Benaud as Graham Gooch’s England drew the five match series 2-2 with the otherwise all-conquering West Indies captained by Viv Richards.  

The next summer, ma became my net bowler in our front and back gardens. She bowled under and overarm for hours on end without complaint. She even climbed onto our garage roof repeatedly to retrieve my ball. From then on, I have been hooked on the game and it has helped me considerably.

Cricket allows me to switch off completely, especially the ebb and flows of the first-class and Test formats. I feel that it is the best sport for replicating life’s twists, turns and undulations at a somewhat similar pace to how they may occur. I find the sound of leather on willow heavenly. I feel so totally at pace watching and playing cricket, although I didn’t take up playing the game until age 33.

All life’s problems, stresses, anxieties and worries seemingly drift away when I watch an England Test match either in person or on television.

Cricket gives me an outlet for emotion.

The sheer joy I felt, running up my road when Lancashire won the County Championship for the first time in 77 years in 2011 will stay with me always. I did a Ravanelli, pulling my shirt over my head, arms outstretched in delight. It meant so much. 

Cricket has been there through my very worst times with mental health and an addiction battle in the 2010s. Getting up for England’s famous series win in India in 2012 was the only reason I woke up at all. I was at such a low ebb. I was suspended from work and unable to contact my mates. It was a lonely time. 

^{A young Andrew meets Nasser Hussain}

When I turned to playing the game, I found the sport could give me even more comfort.

I chose Chirk CC as they had someone else with autism playing and were short on numbers a lot of the time. After meeting the then captain, and now close mate, Ian Skinner with my ma for a coffee in Wrexham I found we shared a cricketing ethos.

Firstly, autism isn’t any issue whatsoever at Chirk. Just as importantly, from day one, I unequivocally know my role in the team and what is expected of me in a structured, clear, concisely explained manner. This also goes for provision of lifts to matches and not training with no false promises made. This is extremely important for anyone, but especially so for someone with autism. 

It is the undoubted highlight of my week playing for Chirk’s second team on a Saturday. I start preparing on the Friday afternoon by organising and repeatedly spraying my kit along with making a yoghurt fruit salad. 

Since my beloved ma suddenly passed away the week before Christmas last year, having suffered from Covid and chronic obstructive pulmonary disease, the club has been there for me and my family. 

I gave a eulogy at ma’s funeral and the same evening was appointed to the club’s committee for the first time. I couldn’t tell the one person who I wanted to tell, who was usually in the next room.

Chirk’s support of me since my ma’s passing illustrates just how important the cricket community can be for people in my position.

I received several cards of condolence, and the club have commemorated my ma’s passing with the wearing of black armbands by both our senior teams and, more permanently, naming the nets in my ma’s memory. 

It is my 30th anniversary of loving cricket this summer; over those three decades it has helped me with my autism in so many ways. May that continue forever.

^{Andrew credits cricket with helping him live with autism and cope with grief}

How can cricket help those with autism?

Cricket can be more accommodating for those with autism if the communication and boundaries regarding behaviour are very clearly defined as to what is expected of them. 

The communication includes matters such as meet up times on game day to an autistic person’s playing role in the team, while making sure they are valued and understood.

An autistic person could get overexcited if their team takes a wicket, they take a catch or play an important role in a win. It is important for teammates to understand this, and to react accordingly.

Also, with the way my mind works, and I am sure this is also the case with others with autism, I can be prone to committing certain social faux pas or process information in non-sequential ways, which can be difficult to understand for those whose minds operate in different ways. Tolerance is so important, and an understanding environment, such as the one I have at Chirk Cricket Club, can be achieved by others.

All it takes is acceptance of all those with differences in life to make a better world.