by Mayukh Ghosh
When, early in 2018, I became interested in cricketers' letters, I went through Christopher Saunders' website to get an idea about things.
David Frith had by then briefed me about the different categories of letters.
The handwritten letters by star cricketers containing interesting substance or anecdotes categorised as 'A' .
Other cricket people's letters categorised as 'B' an so on....
One name stood out.
Jack Sokell.
I had to know more about him.
This man used write hundreds of letters to cricketers, every month.
He never bought a typewriter.
Jack Sokell had a very modest childhood. He did well to get a degree in metallurgical engineering.
His left-wing views often made him look like a combative character.
He once complained that a menu card was pink and not bright red!
He didn't enjoy his stint as an engineer and left it to join the Barnsley Chronicle, on a part-time basis.
One night his friend Arthur Johnson said, " I am getting Johnny, my friend, to come and talk to us at the St. George's Arms in September. Would you like to come?"
Johnny Wardle. Jack's school-mate.
Rev. George Needham and Arthur Johnson then thought of forming a cricket society. They offered Jack the role of the secretary.
Jack agreed.
The Wombwell Cricket Lovers' Society was formed in late 1951.
Jack remained the secretary, till death in 2004.
No one gave more to a cricket society anywhere in the world.
He introduced Christmas parties, dance nights and quiz competitions ( Tony Woodhouse being the quiz master).
And enthusiastically hired coaches for the boys in Wombwell.
He even started 'The Twelfth Man', the much loved magazine of the society.
And wrote letters to everyone connected with cricket, to invite them to talk at the society.
Very few turned him down.
Sokell was 'Mr. Cricket' in Yorkshire.
No one ever devoted more to the betterment of the game.
But he always denied to take credit.
Everywhere he wrote' we' rather than 'I'.
When he died, Michael Parkinson wrote: " To say Jack loved cricket was a bit like saying Romeo fancied Juliet or Abelard took a shine to Heloise.
It misses the point.
Jack's passion was all consuming and all embracing.
If they don't play cricket in heaven there is going to be an unholy row."
No wonder Jack set the motto of the society: " My song shall be cricket. And cricket my theme."
We seldom celebrate these people.
But these are men who made the game what it is today.
Jack Sokell was born on May 23, 1926.