Yet in modern, supposedly multifarious Britain, there are still too many cultural, physical and social obstacles impeding their progress. In the end, they get fed up, going off to play among themselves, a polarisation which leaves a huge reservoir of talent almost totally untapped by first-class counties.
Two Pakistani leggies were a permanent fixture at England practices this summer as the batsmen sought to combat Shane Warne. Otherwise, the main contribution of the two million strong Asian community to the fabric remains the provision of bhajis and bhunas after a night at the bar.
Yorkshire are the largest but by no means sole culprits. To understand why, I travelled to Bradford last week. Half a million people live there, nearly 20 per cent of Pakistani origin. A third of the school population are Asian. Arriving by shuddering old train from Leeds at the tasteless plastic hangar known as Bradford Interchange, you are immediately aware of a city adrift from its booming neighbour. The old municipal splendour has been obliterated by tacky, modern developments, the place has no soul or identity.
At Frizinghall middle school, close to the city centre, two dozen British-Asian 11-year-olds suspended their playground matches against painted wickets and gathered round enthusiastically. ``If England are playing Australia, who do you support?'' I asked one lad. ``Australia,'' he replied, matter-of-factly. ``Australia,'' said a second and a third. ``Australia!'' they exclaimed in unison. What would Norman Tebbit make of that?
``There's very little encouragement from English cricket so these families feel alienated,'' said the headmaster, Ebad Mirza, who came here in the 1960s and became the first Asian to play volleyball for England. ``The white authorities just don't understand the pressures on British Asian kids, especially the muslims. Faith plays a major part in their life, so they have to go to mosque and fit in religious studies round school, and learn home languages in the evening.
``But nobody comes and works out a timetable for them so they can fit in cricket practice, or canvasses the support of the parents who think studies are more important than sport. There has been superficial help from Yorkshire, but it's all talk and no real action. These kids are incredibly keen, they'll play cricket anywhere, anytime, but eventually they feel they have to make too many sacrifices and return to the security of their own camps.'' There were identical sentiments at other nearby schools.
Two miles up the road, in a rough district where the alsatians once roamed in threes, there is an isolated success story. Bowling Old Lane, possessors of the most ramshackle ground in the Bradford League, have just won promotion to the first division with a team including seven British Asians.
More than that, they have cleaned up the crime-ridden reputation of the largely ethnic neighbourhood by making the club accessible to the entire community where once it was labelled, like most other senior clubs, as elitist. A minibus, partly funded by the local police, has been invaluable in ferrying penniless kids to training and matches.
THERE are still problems, though, which four of the players (one white) expressed over the inevitable Bradford curry. Junior club cricket was now dominated by Asians in many regions, but the culture of the senior English game, orientated round the hop, wards off many players whose religion forbids them entering places serving alcohol. Rifts develop, exacerbated by special Asian food requirements, and many had gone off to form their own sides. The Quaid-e-Azam League - one of several thriving ethnic-minority competitions in the North - now has 40 teams taking part. But there is little top-class coaching, and the pitches are often ropey.
``Some British Asians have broken into other Bradford League sides,'' said Javed Iqbal in a broad West Yorkshire accent, ``but very few are part of the set-up at the big clubs like Undercliffe, Bingley and Pudsey. They're not made to feel welcome. There'll be some animosity when we play them because of our background and poor facilities. And how many Asians have made it through to the Yorkshire Academy or the county side?'' None, was the general consensus.
In Yorkshire's defence, they appointed a development officer for the ethnic communities a year ago. He has, however, been hamstrung by lack of funds - a special ethnic minority squad were only able to play one match last season - and by the county's blinkered vision. ``If they had signed a Pakistani overseas player like Waqar Younis or Saeed Anwar in the last few years it could have done so much for the area,'' said Javed. ``Players like Bevan, Lehmann, even Tendulkar, might be good but just don't inspire the same following.''
Elsewhere the situation is similar. Nearly one third of club teams playing regularly in Greater Manchester are Asian. Have Lancashire ever fielded a home-bred Singh, Patel or Khan ? No. Even with Wasim Akram as the overseas player. The Essex Cricket Association have 504 registered clubs, but 208 of these are unaffiliated. Many are ethnic minority clubs in East London who lead a sort of subterranean existence, denied access to the wider sphere. There are 40 teams in a predominantly Sri Lankan competition, and the Muslim-Gujurati League based in Hainault has swollen from six teams to 24 in three years as Asian players became frustrated with white clubs' attitudes. One team secretary was constantly rebuffed by more distinguished clubs when he said he was phoning on behalf of the Punjabi XI. As soon as he changed the club's name to Strikers, he secured several prestigious fixtures.
A typical team in this league nominate their home ground as 'Hainault Recreation pitch No 5,' the kind of place where the council 'groundsman' just about has time to cut the pitch shorter than the outfield after he has removed the charred remains of an abandoned car. The standard is surprisingly high, but the clubs rarely play in better conditions, which does not bolster their chances of upward mobility.
Nasser Hussain and Nadeem Shahid are Essex's sole 'Asian' products and both went to public school. The county have a poor liaison with the populace of north and east London, but Alan Lilley, their development manager admitted they ``were working hard to correct it.''
To that end they have just appointed an officer with special responsibility for Essex's five inner London boroughs and commissioned a study, Anyone for Cricket - Equal opportunities and changing cricket culture in Essex and East London. Initial results of this survey, at the Roehampton Institute, suggest that ethnic minority clubs have escalating memberships because they found participating in white leagues financially and culturally out of reach. ``We're sick of fighting the system,'' one respondent said.
FURTHER south, the British Asian cricketers lack organisation. On common land in Southampton you will often see impromptu games, but there are no ethnic minority clubs in the area. Rajesh Maru, Hampshire's second-team coach, a Kenyan of Indian extraction, thinks he has seen some talent and that more could be done to tap into this community. ``When we had the Pakistani Aqib Javed playing for us a few years ago, there were loads of Asians in the ground, but they don't come now,'' Maru said. ``I'd love to be involved as a sort of Asian recruiting officer.''
At last, some good news. In spite of all these hurdles, at least 10 British Asians have broken into first-class cricket recently. Most managed this through public school or university (Aftab Habib, Anurag Singh, Min Patel) but two, Wasim Khan and Alamgir Sheriyar, are from inner-city Birmingham. ``Our fathers were factory workers,'' Khan said, ``and didn't really see cricket as a career for us. Kids play it even in the snow round our way, and for every Asian who makes it there are another 12 who could have. But parents tend to set their hearts on us gaining an academic profession and it was quite a struggle persuading them otherwise. They don't see the opportunities cricket can provide.''
No one is sure precisely how many British Asian cricketers languish outside the 'system'. With careful investigation and better dialogue, we might begin to find out. At a time when it is becoming increasingly hard to interest white children in cricket, Asian fathers need cajoling, co-opting on to committees and coaching staffs, and their sons need nurturing. Better communication and facilities are crucial. Overhauling our general attitude to the Asian community might not be a bad idea, either. Then, maybe one day, England will be able to boast a Waqar Younis or a Mustaq Ahmed of their own.