Potatoes, Perseverance, and a Trophy: The First Women’s World Cup
- The Cricket Keeper
- Jul 3, 2025
- 10 min read
This one’s for my potato-loving friends.
#Part1 of Outside the Stats
03.07.2025
In my time, I’ve met plenty of people who love a good potato-related story. Some say if Taylor Swift ran for president, she’d win in a landslide. Others reckon Beyoncé could sweep every state. But honestly? I think there are enough people out there who might actually vote for a potato to rule the so-called “land of the free.” So what does all this have to do with women’s cricket? Well, back in 1973, potatoes helped kickstart a revolution in the sport. When the first Women’s Cricket World Cup was announced, many of the players, amateurs without big sponsors or TV deals, had to raise their own funds to even dream of competing. Some held raffles. Some baked cakes. And some sold potatoes by the sack to their neighbors to finance the journey. That’s how they made it to the starting line of the very first women’s world championship in cricket history: powered by community, grit, and a good old-fashioned potato sale.
The Spark
The idea for a women’s Cricket World Cup had been percolating for years. By the early 1970s, women’s cricket was still completely amateur and often overlooked, but one woman refused to accept the status quo. England’s captain, Rachael Heyhoe-Flint, was determined that women’s cricket deserved a true global showcase, not just token exhibition matches, but a full-fledged tournament of their own. She found an unlikely ally in Sir Jack Hayward, a sport-mad millionaire from Wolverhampton. As the story goes, over a friendly drink one evening, Hayward turned to Heyhoe-Flint and asked, “Why don’t we have a World Cup of women’s cricket?” He promptly backed the idea with £40,000 of his own money, effectively making the ambitious plan a reality.
With Hayward’s sponsorship secured, the organisers set about creating a tournament even men’s cricket had never seen before. Remember, this was 1973 - two years before the first men’s Cricket World Cup was held. In fact, cricket became a trailblazer among sports by staging a women’s world cup before a men’s event existed. The Women’s Cricket Association (WCA) in England, alongside the newly formed International Women’s Cricket Council, took on the Herculean task of planning a global competition on a shoestring budget.
They invited seven teams to participate in this inaugural World Cup. The lineup featured the established women’s sides from England, Australia, and New Zealand, but also teams from the Caribbean (Jamaica and Trinidad & Tobago) at a time when a unified West Indies women’s team did not yet exist. England even fielded an extra “Young England” development squad to give more local players experience. And to round out the field, an International XI was assembled, initially intended to include a few South African women (since apartheid policies meant South Africa’s team was barred). Political complications ultimately forced the withdrawal of those South African invitees, but an International XI of miscellaneous players went ahead, ensuring a seven-team round-robin tournament.
Even with Hayward’s generosity, money was tight. Players still had to cover many of their own expenses, from airfare to equipment, and they leaned on their communities to help. Bake sales, raffle draws, local donations, and selling home-grown vegetables were all part of the fundraising toolkit. It wasn’t glamorous, but it worked. By June 1973, against all odds, women’s cricket was ready to make history on the world stage.
The Tournament Unfolds
The 1973 Women’s World Cup was, in many ways, beautifully imperfect. The opening match between Jamaica and New Zealand was washed out entirely, not a ball bowled thanks to English summer rain. No fans showed up on that rainy day at Kew Green in London, so the teams simply drifted off when the match was abandoned. It was a frustrating start, yet oddly fitting for a tournament built on improvisation and courage. Venues across England hosted games, often modest county grounds or club pitches, since female cricketers were low on the priority list for big stadiums. The Marylebone Cricket Club even refused to let the women play the final at Lord’s, so the honour of the final went to Edgbaston in Birmingham.
Despite the logistical hurdles, a buzz began to grow around the tournament. The organisers worked tirelessly to publicize the event: they plastered cities with posters and bombarded newspapers, radio, and TV with press releases. Bit by bit, curious spectators and media started to take notice of this new phenomenon: a World Cup for women’s cricket. Coverage wasn’t always respectful (one reporter infamously focused more on the players’ “girlishness” and marital statuses than the cricket), but the fact that media were covering women’s matches at all was a significant development.
On the field, the cricket itself produced moments of genuine brilliance. Free from the weight of expectations (after all, nobody knew what women’s teams were capable of on the world stage), the players seized their moment. In one match, England’s opening batters Enid Bakewell and Lynne Thomas put together a record 246-run partnership for the first wicket, an opening stand that would remain the highest in women’s ODIs for more than 25 years. During that innings at Hove, Lynne Thomas went on to score 134*, becoming the first woman ever to score a century in One-Day International cricket. Her partner, Enid Bakewell, was equally prolific throughout the tournament; Bakewell would finish as the leading run-scorer of the 1973 World Cup with 264 runs, including two centuries of her own. These feats were all the more remarkable considering the women had practically zero experience with the limited-overs format, they simply batted with the same attacking flair they used in occasional three-day matches, delighting those watching.
Other teams produced their own highlights. Australia’s squad, for example, featured bowlers like Miriam Knee who delivered the first 5-wicket haul in women’s ODI history during the competition. New Zealand’s team, and the spirited sides from Jamaica and Trinidad, struggled to match the depth of the English and Australian line-ups, but they showed flashes of skill and a flair that captivated local club crowds. Perhaps more importantly, a strong sense of sisterhood and solidarity grew among all the teams. These women were pioneers, and they knew it; adversaries on the field, they bonded off it over the shared challenges of being female cricketers in a male-dominated sport.
The Final at Edgbaston

After weeks of round-robin matches, the title showdown unfolded exactly as the organizers had hoped: England versus Australia in the final, the two strongest sides. On July 28, 1973, under a thankfully sunny sky in Birmingham, Princess Anne was on hand as the guest of honour for the culmination of this first World Cup. England’s captain, Rachael Heyhoe-Flint, won the toss and elected to bat on the Edgbaston wicket. What followed was a commanding batting display by the home team. Enid Bakewell rose to the occasion with a majestic 118 runs, the only century in a World Cup final by a woman for decades. She and opener Lynne Thomas gave England a solid start (an opening stand of 101 in the final), and Heyhoe-Flint herself contributed a steady 64 runs. England posted an imposing 279/3 in their 60 overs, a total that would have been competitive even in men’s cricket at the time.
Australia, for their part, put up a fight in the chase but were stifled by tight English bowling and fielding. Chasing 280, the Australians never quite got the momentum they needed. They were restricted to 187/9 in 60 overs, well short of the target. The margin of victory was emphatic, and perhaps reflected the extra experience England had, as well as the advantage of playing on home soil.
When the final wicket fell, a new chapter in cricket history had been written. Princess Anne presented the silver World Cup trophy, a Georgian-style chalice commissioned by Jack Hayward, to Captain Heyhoe-Flint, as the English players beamed with pride. It was a truly groundbreaking moment: women cricketers holding a World Cup trophy aloft, something that had been mere fantasy a few years earlier. The significance wasn’t lost on those present. As Heyhoe-Flint later reminisced, the inaugural tournament created “huge public awareness of the very existence of women’s cricket”, in a single summer, countless people discovered that women played the game, and played it well.
Celebrations followed. The achievement received attention from the British government – Prime Minister Edward Heath invited all seven teams to a reception at 10 Downing Street to honour their efforts. The players mingled with politicians and the press, a surreal experience for amateur sportswomen who normally would have been back at their day jobs. As an amusing anecdote from that Downing Street visit: Heyhoe-Flint, knowing Heath was an avid sailor, presented him with a cricket bat signed by all the players and joked that he might use it as a paddle if his yacht ever ran becalmed. The room erupted in laughter, a sign of the easy charm and showmanship Heyhoe-Flint used to promote the women’s game.
Media coverage of the final was significant for the era. Highlights of the England–Australia match made it onto ITV’s World of Sport, and BBC’s news covered it as well. For many viewers, it was likely the first women’s cricket they had ever seen. The sight of Princess Anne handing over the trophy to a woman cricketer in England’s blue blazer was symbolic: women had proven they belonged on cricket’s global stage.
The Legacy
The 1973 Women’s World Cup left a legacy that still echoes through the sport today. In the immediate aftermath, it showed the skeptics that women could organise and deliver an international tournament, on their own terms, with their communities rallying behind them. In fact, the success of the women’s event arguably prodded the men’s game to follow suit. The first men’s Cricket World Cup was staged in 1975, two years after the women’s, using a similar one-day format and also hosted by England. Cricket thus holds the rare distinction of having the women’s World Cup precede the men’s, something virtually unheard of in other major sports. Many observers have noted that the women’s achievement in 1973 proved the concept and inspired the launch of the men’s World Cup in the years that followed. While the men’s game already had more money and infrastructure to play with, the women had set the example of what was possible through passion and resourcefulness.
Just as importantly, the 1973 tournament sparked progress within women’s cricket itself. One immediate outcome was in the West Indies: seeing Jamaica and Trinidad & Tobago compete separately in 1973 made it clear that a combined West Indies women’s team would be stronger. Following the World Cup, leaders like Louise Browne of T&T and Monica Taylor of Jamaica pushed to unify the Caribbean islands under one women’s side. By 1975, the first West Indies women’s cricket team was formed, bringing players from Barbados, Grenada, and other islands together with the Jamaicans and Trinidadians. This dramatically raised the standard and visibility of the women’s game in the Caribbean, a direct legacy of the World Cup experience.
The tournament also planted a seed of belief in young girls around the world. For the first time, they could see international women’s cricket on a big stage and dream that they too might one day wear their country’s colors. Over the ensuing decades, women’s World Cups became a fixture every few years, though not without hurdles. The second edition in 1978 was nearly derailed by lack of funds, causing some teams to withdraw, and even in 1993 the organisers struggled until a last-minute sponsorship saved the event. Each tournament built on the last, creating new heroes and inspiring more female players. The path to professionalism in women’s cricket would be long and winding, but 1973 was the pivotal starting point that proved the concept to the world.
Modern Echoes: Associate Nations Still Sell Potatoes — Metaphorically
The underdog story of women’s cricket in 1973 — fighting for recognition and resources — still resonates today, especially across Associate Nations. Back then, women cricketers funded their dreams through bake sales, raffles, and even sacks of potatoes. Today, many women’s teams from smaller cricketing nations face similar struggles, balancing full-time jobs or studies with training and matches, without the safety of contracts or guaranteed funding.
For example, Scotland’s Sarah and Kathryn Bryce became the only women from an Associate nation to secure full-time regional contracts in England in 2020. Before that, they juggled cricket around coursework and part-time work. In Sri Lanka, legendary all-rounder Shashikala Siriwardene once had to choose service in the Navy over her cricket dreams, after her day job threatened to fire her for representing her country. In Zimbabwe, the women’s team was forced to cancel a tour to Ireland in 2019, not because of a lack of skill, but because the cricket board could not afford the trip.
This pattern is not unique to women’s cricket. In men’s World Cups since 1975, smaller non-Test nations like East Africa, Sri Lanka before Test status, Canada, Kenya, and Ireland have faced similar uphill battles, depending on volunteers, community fundraising, and pure love of the game. Yet, when given the chance, these teams have delivered unforgettable upsets and added fresh energy to cricket’s biggest stages.
Although the ICC has taken steps to expand opportunities with more global qualifiers, Associate tournaments, and promises of increased funding, there is still a long way to go. The echoes of 1973 are clear: whether selling potatoes then or juggling multiple commitments now, many players continue to fight for their chance to play. Their determination proves that talent, if supported, can flourish anywhere, and that cricket only grows stronger with every new voice, every underdog, and every dreamer who refuses to give up.
There’s still a long way to go
Fast forward 50 years since those humble, potato-backed beginnings in 1973, and the landscape of women’s cricket has transformed. What began as a pioneering experiment contested by amateurs has become a thriving part of the international calendar, with packed stadiums, broadcast deals, and genuine global stars.
Yet, as we celebrate how far women’s cricket has come, it’s worth remembering that the challenges of 1973 are not ancient history for everyone. Across many Associate Nations, women’s cricket still operates on fragile foundations. Talented players often balance cricket with full-time jobs or university studies, lacking central contracts or even reliable match fees. Some leave the sport entirely because it simply cannot support their basic needs.
That is why the legacy of 1973 is so powerful. Those women proved that with community, courage, and a deep love for the game, barriers can be broken. As we look ahead to the Women’s World Cup in India this October, their story should push us to do more, so that no cricketer, anywhere, has to choose between the game they love and the life they need to live.
Sources: Women’s Cricket World Cup archives and historical accounts, contemporary news coverage and interviews, and ICC records and releases commemorating the 50th anniversary of the 1973 World Cup.







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