We pull in, past the vertical signage on the front-side, its iconic lettering semi-concealed by tufts of foliage. To the left is the front-of-house showroom, sparkling with finished pieces available to buy off the shelf, while opposite lies the place I’ve come to see, the mythic Salix nerve centre: Andrew Kember’s magic toyshop.

We step through, past a vast cube of clefts arranged like Jenga blocks, into a chaos of lathes and pressing machines. To our left, a rack for new clefts and a bulk of wooden trunks sprouting scores of unbound bats, as in the far corner, a young apprentice works on binding the handles of the blades he’s been assigned for the day. On the far wall, older classic
models hang from hooks, marking time, while adjacent to the workshop sits a high-ceilinged storage house, piled with stamped boxes ready for consignment. A hug for Kember, the man who built all this, releases plumes of dust and woodchippings from his tatty pullover. The place is perfect.

Kember is in good spirits. Business is up, orders are being met, and he’s recently tied the knot with Kel, whom Andrew credits with revitalising the entire enterprise post-Covid. I later learn that the lad working the binding machine is Kel’s son, Sam. In every sense, they are a team.

“There’s four of us here full-time,” he says. “Kel and I, plus Sam and Luke, and then there’s Hugh, who’s here once a week to put the handles in. When Kel and I tried to do it on our own a couple of years ago, it was hell. We managed to get everything done, but it’s a much smoother operation now. We’re moving bats through the workshop much better than we have done in the past. That’s credit to the four of us here.”

Kember, who started out at the legendary old Newbery stable in Sussex, sees his role in part as sustaining a lineage. “There aren’t many people now offering apprenticeships to make cricket bats. There’s an awful lot of bats being made by people who have taught themselves. Not that that’s wrong, but there’s a difference between that and learning from people who have been doing it for many years.”

He’s still in thrall to the craft. “This is the way the workshop ticks: all four of us can be in the workshop at any one time. After the handles are fitted, Luke does the initial shaping. I will then call Sam, who will be working on the initial rasping – shaping and refining the handle. After that Kel will take it on.”

“Yeah,” she says, “I’m sanding, doing the handles, binding, and all the polishing goes through me.” The final part, the stickering, they do together. The rotation has helped increase the number of bats Salix can produce per year. “We’ve never had to turn people away,” Kember says, “but there is a waiting list for premium bats because of that shortage of top pieces of wood – though those who wanted top-end stuff, within a few weeks they got what they ordered. We are keen for more business now. We believe we can get bats through quicker than ever before.”

Introducing the ACID range

The classical Salix, with its traditional English shape, has been, and continues to be, a decades-long market leader. Now the company has brought out a new range – ACID, which stands for Artisan Cricket India Dynamics – to target a new type of cricketer, and a boisterously emerging market.

WCM: ACID – describe it for us...

AK: So we’ve taken the Asian look – flat, big, purposeful – and styled it to this, our own model. It’s slightly heavier, flat faces, a lot of bow, low driving areas, chunky toes.

WCM: What’s the thinking?

AK: In part, we’re appealing to the growing North American market – there’s a consignment going out to California today, in fact – as well as to younger people in this country. Making bats for the US market, it’s extraordinary and even unimaginable as recently as five years ago, but the ordering in North America, they don’t hold back, let’s put it that way. And if people want it big and flat, then that’s what we’ll make!

WCM: What are the challenges in making such a different bat to the traditional Salix?

AK: Well, for one thing, it makes a 2lb 8oz classical bat impossible to make. It’s actually helped us make a point of difference between ACID and Salix. Salix really is now where we do our traditional work and if we’re going to be more expansive with our batmaking it will be through ACID.

WCM: So having these big points of difference is a good thing?

AK: I think so, but then we’ve only made a successful flat-face bat because we knew how to make a traditional one in the first place. One influences the other. ACID is big and garish, but it’s effective, and the kids like it. And Salix is the exact opposite. So they look different, and they are different.

WCM says

UK bat production is a crowded marketplace these days, which puts pressure on the boutique brands, as they’re buffeted on the one side by the great institutions and, on the other, by hefty multi-nationals who fancy expanding their empires into cricket. The quality of the product therefore becomes more essential than ever, and this is where Salix continues to stand out. They are not in the game to become a mass-production business, preferring instead to prioritise consistency across their output. But this is not to say that they are rooted in tradition at all costs. The roll-out of the ACID range speaks of a revitalised company that is moving with the times and embracing new markets, both at home and abroad. Long may they reign.