THIS summer, we’ve been served a timely reminder that there are other ways to win the hearts and minds of the Australian cricket public than just mere runs and wickets.

Enter the ‘cult hero’.

In this context, the ‘cult hero’ is defined by the Oxford dictionary as “a person or thing that is popular or fashionable among a particular group or section of society.”

The cult figure is not unlike your Marvel or DC comic book superheroes.

They are iconic, mercurial, possess myriad fictitious physical or social abilities, and often have an alias (that last one is usually for the purposes of tax evasion).

The Grade Cricketer speak to their spirit animal, former international and Fox Sports columnist Brett Geeves, as well as the SCG ‘cult hero’ Mickey Edwards and rising star of the game Will Pucovski. LISTEN by clicking on the player below, or find it on iTunes here.

Every club has a cult hero: it’s often said that “every club has an *insert thing*” and for good reason.

Every grade/premier cricket club is exactly the same, with the only differences being where and from what socioeconomic background the first grade home ground is situated in.

Every club has a junior prodigy.

Every club has a strange club president with $4.2m in assets, a chequered history with organised crime syndicates, a troubled relationship with his estranged wife and four step-kids, and a well-documented weakness for Taiwanese women of the night.

Every club has that.

Cricket is at its very essence a popularity contest. In this age of short attention spans and dank memes, one’s social capital can rise and fall with alarming pace.

A patient 44 not out on a seaming green wicket is all well and good, but that’s certainly no way to achieve cut-through on social media or get blokes chanting your name after you chug your fourth beer in the sheds, naked, before nervously driving home along the back streets.

So if you want to break into the ‘cult hero’ bracket of your club – if only to hide the fact that you haven’t spoken to a human woman in four-and-a-half months and are in desperate need of an identity renovation – then this is the definitive list for you.

Australia’s two cult heroes from the summer share a moment at the SCG. Source: AAP

1. Actually be good at something

Admittedly, this wipes out 95 per cent of the audience - but let’s draw back upon the superhero theme for a moment.

When you think about it, even Batman doesn’t possess any real superpowers.

He’s just a rich bloke with a cave who lives by himself with an old man called Alfred. A lot of lonely nights in the Bat Cave, I suspect.

Sure, Batman did have several billion dollars at his disposal and was able to confidently operate a range of gadgets. Top notch rig as well.

But he wasn’t good at anything. Therefore, Batman cannot be a ‘cult hero’.

However, there’s usually a young guy languishing in fifth grade who is an amazing slipper.

He’s been at the club for three seasons, never got above the lowest grade at the club, but you’ve never seen him drop a catch at training.

He’s terrible at the core business of cricket (i.e. runs and wickets) but has the soft, sensual hands of Mark Waugh and David Campese’s lovechild.

So yeah, just be good at something – no matter how small it is – and watch your stocks grow.

2. Lie about everything

As a junior, AB de Villiers allegedly represented his country in about 42 different sports.

He was an underage rugby star, a junior Davis Cup player, an U19 Badminton champion, and held six national schoolboy swimming records.

All of these things, of course, are false.

You should never under any circumstance tell the truth if it means that the one interesting thing about you turns out to be a falsity.

Yes, Google has changed everything, but don’t overestimate your teammates’ ability to research things on the internet effectively.

A good 80 per cent of the lies you tell will be swallowed up with gusto, if your delivery is good enough.

3. Have an unusual name

Now, when I say ‘unusual’, I mean something that isn’t taken directly from the Christian Bible.

Of course, it’s probably a step too far to change your name via deed poll for the purposes of grade cricket popularity, but at the very least you should steer your teammates towards a catchy nickname.

If you are lucky enough to share the surname with a famous person, then you’ve got it made – as long as the person in question is sufficiently mainstream.

There’s a reason that Steve ‘Evelyn’ Waugh didn’t catch on.

Mickey Edwards wowed crowds at the SCG. Picture: Mark Evans Source: News Corp Australia

4. Have an interesting ‘salad’

It’s very difficult to demonstrate your individuality on a cricket field.

However, one way you can do so is by rocking an interesting haircut (or ‘salad’, as it is strangely known in cricket circles).

Generally speaking, cricket is all about adhering to the status quo: conformity is everything.

If you wear your thigh pad on the outside in a trial game, the club president will have immediately blacklisted you from playing first or second grade.

You might as well leave the club (and the country) immediately because no one will ever let you live it down.

But hair is different.

If you have the ability to grow hair, then you should definitely do so.

Grow that filthy top knot you’ve always dreamed of, but never had the guts to.

Get your mates to shave an aggressive lightning bolt into the sides of your hair after 13 rum and cokes.

Sure, this particular hairstyle will have you laughed out of every job interview you ever apply for, but it doesn’t matter. You weren’t going to get that job anyway.

Nathan Lyon appeals unsuccessfully to keep his ‘cult hero’ status ahead of newcomer Mickey Edwards. Picture : Gregg Porteous Source: News Corp Australia

5. Block out the fact everyone is laughing at you behind your back

It’s a sad, lonely life being a ‘cult hero’.

The words ‘Nice, Garry’ seem earnest at first, but after the 100th rendition you start worrying about the subtext.

Then you start wondering whether the crowd is openly having a laugh at your expense. Eventually, every nasal, drawn out ‘Niiicceeee, Garrraaaay’ is like a dagger through your heart.

You’ve taken 200+ Test wickets but no one cares about that anymore.

They just want you to say the phrase: ‘Go on, say it!’

From now on, everywhere you go in life - the supermarket, down to the pub, out to dinner with your partner - you’ll be nervously looking over your shoulder, just in case some bloated bloke with an iPhone comes at you for a selfie, which he will immediately upload to three social media platforms, captioned with those two bloody words that you’ve grown to despise.

So before you embark on your road to becoming a ‘cult hero’, make sure you really want it.

Because while it will certainly inspire first graders to make eye contact with you, it could also be the absolute worst thing to ever happen to you.

TGC