There is a type of village cricketer English cricket quietly depends upon. The sort who arrive early, sweep the pavilion, score a rapid 38 off 17 balls, then disappear to fit carpets in a semi-detached bungalow twenty minutes later. Men rooted in place. Men who keep clubs alive.
Chiddingly Cricket Club have one in Karl Small.
Known around the club as “Jossy Man” — a nod to his admiration for Jos Buttler — Small is one of the more naturally aggressive batsmen in Sussex village cricket. Compact, cheerful and deeply loyal to his club, he speaks with the slightly embarrassed humility of a man more comfortable middling a half-volley than discussing himself.
We meet on a bright afternoon outside the pavilion at Chiddingly. Karl arrives carrying a bag of apples.
Wisden: You were born in Uckfield?
Karl: Yeah. Uckfield Hospital. Proper Sussex lad. Mum worked in the grocers there and Dad was an electrician. I used to just run about the shop causing havoc really. Apparently I kept eating the apples. I still do, to be honest. Love apples. Could eat about nine a day if left alone.
Wisden: Was cricket always the thing?
Karl: Always. Since I can remember. I weren’t one of them lads who wanted to be astronauts or footballers. I just wanted to bat. That was it really. I got into the East Sussex sides at Under-12s and Under-13s which at the time felt massive. Proper proud moment for Mum and Dad.
Wisden: Who did you look up to?
Karl: Jos Buttler. Without question. Still do. Just the freedom of him. The confidence. The way he can sort of change a game in fifteen minutes. I’ve watched clips of him for hours before games sometimes. That’s where “Jossy Man” comes from at Chiddingly. Harvey started calling me it years ago and it stuck.
Wisden: You joined Chiddingly at 19?
Karl: Yeah. Best thing I ever did cricket-wise. Never looked back.
Wisden: Do you remember your first game?
Karl: Bexhill away. I remember every ball. I got 12 runs off about five balls and thought I was the king of the world. Absolute tiny little cameo but Mike Wormell — Geoff’s dad — came up to me after and basically said, “You’ve got something about you.” That meant a lot because Mike knows cricket. You listen when people like that speak.
Wisden: You’ve never been tempted elsewhere?
Karl: Never. Honestly never crossed my mind. Some lads move about and fair enough, but Chiddingly’s my club. I’ll play there forever if they’ll have me.
Wisden: Describe yourself as a batsman.
Karl: Aggressive. Too aggressive probably. If it’s on leg stump I’m trying the mega flick every single time.
Wisden: The mega flick?
Karl: (Laughs) That’s my phrase, yeah. “Leg-side mega flick.” Sort of whipping it hard through midwicket. In my head it always goes for six. In reality it maybe doesn’t.
Wisden: You’re regarded as one of the club’s most gifted batsmen.
Karl: Nah. Keith Hill. Without question. I mean that seriously. Keith’s timing is outrageous. He can just stand there and the ball disappears. Different class.
Wisden: Away from cricket, you run your own carpet business.
Karl: Yeah, Small Carpets. I’m proud of it actually. We fit carpets all round East Sussex. Houses, little flats, old cottages, whatever really. I like working locally because you get to know people. That’s important to me.
Wisden:Do people recognise you from cricket?
Karl: Occasionally. Usually older blokes wanting to talk about some innings from 2022 that I’ve completely forgotten.
Wisden: You’re engaged as well?
Karl: Yeah. Samantha. We’re hoping to get married in the next five years or so. No mega rush. We’re happy.
Wisden: What’s a perfect Friday evening for Karl Small?
Karl: Honestly? Turning every computer off in the house and just talking with Sam. That and a chicken korma with onion bhajis. Ideal evening.
Wisden: You strike people as someone who genuinely loves simple things.
Karl: I think that’s true actually. I like London for a day — seeing the sights and all that — but I’m always happy coming home to Sussex.
Wisden: You’ve spoken warmly before about captain Harvey Last.
Karl: Harvey’s a genius. Honestly. Playing under him is brilliant because he sees games differently to everyone else. We call him “The Man with the Chess Mind.” He’s like a chess master out there. He’ll set fields you don’t even understand until three overs later when someone holes out exactly where he planned.
Wisden: And the manager, David Earl?
Karl: Most inspirational person I’ve ever met.I do get intimidated around him a bit. In a good way though. He’s just got this presence where you want to impress him all the time.
Wisden: Who are you closest to in the dressing room?
Karl: Adam Patsalides probably. We’ve had some unbelievable laughs together over the years.
Wisden: Where do you see Chiddingly in three seasons?
Karl pauses here. Looks out toward the square.
Karl: Premier Division. Definitely. People will laugh at that but I believe it. We’ve got the players. More importantly we’ve got the spirit. And once a club gets spirit right, funny things can happen.
As the interview ends, Small gathers his things and heads toward the nets where a handful of younger players are beginning to warm up. Before leaving, he reaches into his bag and offers an apple.
“You want one?” he asks.
It somehow feels entirely fitting.