Wisden speaks to cricket’s antiquity against backdrop of a changing game

I t arrives with a thunk through the door. It’s only little – 10.26 x 4.34 x 19.23cm – but possesses a heft that belies its corporeal state. That will be the molecularly thin pages, all 1,616 of them, crammed into an impossibly compact space, which chronicle the previous year’s runs and wickets and talking points.

But that only half explains the metaphysics at play. It’s too heavy to be a mere recounting of the observable world. Hold one up and raise it high. Feel the weight of it and notice how it seems to change size in your hand like Sauron’s ring. Something spiritual is at work here.

If you’re a cricket fan it’s difficult not to veer into hyperbole when writing on the significance of the Wisden Cricketers’ Almanack. The novelist Alec Waugh had it right when he first called it the game’s “bible”. It is a gateway to an ancient past, one that connects all readers of its gospels since it was first published in 1864, eight years before the inaugural international football match and more than a century before the launch of the Rugby World Cup.

It evokes images of green pastures and teabreaks in the shires. And though it has moved with the times and now includes portions on the women’s game, Twenty20 franchises and something called the Hundred, its magic is found in the deep roots of its own heritage.

That is why one anonymous collector once parted with nearly £40,000 for a rare copy of the 1875 edition. Be honest. You’d have done the same if you had deep enough pockets.

Because a Wisden is not just for reading but for collecting and the more you have the greater the connection to cricket’s antiquity. Cast your mind back to the uncountable Zoom calls during lockdown. Did you notice the stacks of yellow proudly displayed