MY FIRST ASHES MEMORY: WHY IS KEITH GILLESPIE PLAYING CRICKET?

The Cricketer asked our writers and former players to reflect on their introduction to the world's most famous Test series

The Cricketer asked our writers and former players to reflect on their introduction to the world's most famous Test series.

Today it's the turn of Chris Smith.

What is your first Ashes memory? Let us know @TheCricketerMag or email: website@thecricketer.com...

By the age of seven I did not have the appreciation for many, if any, of life’s treasures.

I was content, as an only child then, to spend my days following my Grandad around his sheds, building metropolises with Lego and, in what was a theatrical affair at the time, replaying the Premiership on my bedroom floor using Corinthian miniature footballers as squads.

The goalposts you ask? Two old shoe boxes – my size-three feet creating the perfect scale for these inch-and-a-half-high figurines. A ball? Misappropriated snooker balls from my junior billiards set. It all worked seamlessly.

Other than this, I did not know much of sport. I did not play football and I could not be sure now that I had heard of cricket.

Football is often bemoaned by cricket fans, its brashness leads it to be considered an inelegant pastime that is looked at with the same disapproval of an uncle who is on his fourth helping of mince pies and the ‘good’ brandy.

It was football though which brought cricket to my attention. More specifically, a footballer who had been battling away in central midfield in my Corinthian universe. It was Keith Gillespie, the Northern Ireland international. He was representing Newcastle at the time. I did not really know who Keith Gillespie was, but his surname was delicately painted onto the back of his shirt, so I knew that at least.

^{Jason Gillespie celebrates an Australia victory with Matthew Elliott in 1997}

I was passing through the living room at home during one day in the summer of 1997, paying no attention to the television and, in a glance at it, I saw a graphic at the bottom of the screen. It included the word ‘GILLESPIE’. Of course, it was Jason Gillespie, just about to start a spell for Australia.

Now, at the time, this was revelatory. I had not grown to be aware of the concept of shared surnames between other people. As soon as I saw it, I rushed up to my bedroom and grabbed Keith and hurried back downstairs.

I was sure I had witnessed a remarkable event. I told my mother as much. Of course by the time I had returned the graphic had gone, but I stuck around, as Jason would while batting, to get the conclusive proof.

About 30 minutes later, having taken in this sport which, while intriguing, was a side show until I could get this case nailed down, another graphic popped up and there it was: Gillespie. I looked at Keith’s back: Gillespie. I was amazed.

Through the most tenuous of links, it was enough to encourage me to watch the rest of the series, though I do wish that one of my family members was decent enough to point out that I shouldn’t have been supporting Jason Gillespie and his Australian colleagues.

I didn’t know what the Ashes were either, that would not become a word in my vocabulary until the 2001 series, but that coincidental moment did enough to get me into that series, subsequent Test matches in the summers after and cricket itself, indeed one of life’s treasures.

In short: pish to anyone who says football has nothing to offer cricket.

ANOTHER ASHES MEMORY: When England broke the one rule of touring Australia