OPINION: In the field of faith, Judaism and sport are one

In the Kol Nidre of his life, my grandfather Zigi Shipper confided in me that he had developed a preference for One Day International cricket over test matches. As a comment on the deleterious effects of aging, it was as pithy as Barry Cryer’s observation in his own final years that he would no longer buy green bananas.

I have thought of Zigi every day since his passing in January but this has been even more pronounced over the last six weeks as England and Australia played out the greatest Ashes series since 2005.

My grandfather, born into an orthodox Jewish family in Łódź in 1930, adored cricket to the extent that he reduced my grandmother to literal tears of boredom by dragging her to a game at Hove on their honeymoon in 1955.

Most observers don’t link as nebulous a concept as the spirit of cricket with a thick Eastern European accent but, for me, the sport and Zigi are intrinsically linked. When I first visited Lord’s, in the early 1990s, it was a multigenerational affair involving my brother, father and grandfather.

We saw Middlesex take on the West Indies in the sort of match usually only dreamed up by five-year-olds and computer game programmers. I still eagerly await a football match between Manchester United and England with a cloned Marcus Rashford.

A new exhibition at The MCC museum at Lord’s tells the story of the Jewish community’s relationship with cricket. There is nary a mention of my bowling figures of 7 for 25 away at Orley Farm in 1997 but one can’t have everything. As it happens, I attended precisely one session of this summer’s series, at the same location as the exhibition and that formative experience watching Curtley Ambrose and Courtney Walsh terrify a group of county cricketers.

At Lord’s, on the first Sunday in July, I witnessed Alex Carey cause a diplomatic incident by running out Johnny Bairstow in controversial circumstances, an incident I like to believe changed the course of the series. I had to leave the ground at lunch since it was my daughter’s third birthday and there were celebrations planned at home rather than at the home of cricket.

When an incredulous friend implored me to stay and I explained it was probably a divorce situation if I did, his response was simple: “Plenty more fish in the sea, lad.”

As we celebrated our daughter’s birthday with more than one eye on the cricket, the only thing missing was Zigi urging Ben Stokes on with his familiar refrain, when watching any sport, “Make a name for yourself, son.” I have often wondered if that focus on names came from being reduced to a number during his formative years. Either way, he would have loved the way in which England have essentially brought an ODI style to test cricket over the last few weeks and months.

The series concluded at The Oval while I was abroad with the extended family. While we waited to board our delayed flight home, we sat in Bologna Airport listening to Test Match Special and celebrating wickets (much to the confusion of the locals).

Trips to synagogue with skilfully hidden portable radios came flooding back and, while that may seem like sacrilegious behaviour, I am unsure of the existence of a higher power but unquestionably believe in James Anderson. Indeed, surely no God would possibly have allowed it to rain for those last two days at Old Trafford.

As Stuart Broad took the final wicket of the series with the last ball of his storied career five minutes before our plane took off, it dawned on me that sport and Judaism serve a similar function. They are about stories and things we hand down and a sense of community. Long after the specifics have disappeared from view, we will remember the moments.

I remember Zigi leading the Seder service and I remember him enjoying Carl Hooper destroying those humble trundlers and, like the best moments of the Ashes series that has just concluded, I suspect I always will.

• Darren Richman, grandson of the late Zigi Shipper, is a writer.