Cricket: Glorious miscalculations

Mar 22, 2009 Features / Columnists

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The Parrot was at the game on Friday. What a Friday! The hype was great; the atmosphere perfect; expectations high; crowd huge. By the way, it was made public that tickets were sold out. Well, somebody is totally unaware of the meaning of sold out. Many seats remained empty way into the dark when the game concluded.

Reliable reports prior to Friday indicated that patrons seeking to purchase tickets were told none was available. One man joined the line on Thursday, and according to his estimation, was number sixty. Shortly after, while still being number sixty, he was told only thirty tickets were left for sale. He left frustrated. Had he attended Friday’s game he would have been fuming to see the empty seats.

Whilst the sold out phrase was being used, tickets were available on the “black market” at exorbitant prices! How did these vendors get so many tickets to sell? Tickets were sold with the buyer’s name. At least mine had mine. Shouldn’t the Cricket Board have instituted a maximum quantity for any one buyer? If it is that names were noted, then repeated buyers should have been spotted. What was more painful for those who joined the long queues was that the “black marketers” were conducting business right at the entrance of the Cricket Board’s ticket office! This should be investigated and the Cricket Board owes dedicated patrons an explanation. One patron wrote to the print media about feeling duped by the Board in relation to the sale of tickets. His experience should be addressed. The Parrot, while not optimistic, will await an announcement.

Back to the game. The stadium was a sea of colours. The party mound was the first to fill up. The music which emanated there was infectious and induced spontaneous, but generally not very graceful, gyrations from the crowd. The gyrations became less and less graceful with time and were proportionate to the amount of alcoholic beverage consumed by the individual. The Trini posse next to me had a blast. The all-man posse was not conservative in their imbibing and cordiality. They were complimented by their Guyanese associates who included prominent business and government officials. It was heartening to see these officials in a stand and not the Presidential Box and interacting with the ordinary folks.

The vast amount of food and beverages they brought in a restaurant-like atmosphere, inclusive of the food warmers, barman and waitresses, was liberally shared to all around, regardless of familiarity. This section of the green stand quickly became a meeting point for other high ranking officials and businessmen.
The friendly cheers that signaled the “downing of one” punctuated the day. They cheered the West Indies team in deafening decibels. Yes, these folks are also humans and cricket fans. They are entitled to enjoy, like everyone else, such occasions. Along with them, my Guyanese-American friend, who was at the stadium for the first time, was in shock at the beginning; shock to see such a structure here. I told him about Uncle Freddie’s position on the stadium; his shock worsened.

He said he will craft a reply and will boast to the Guyana bad-mouthers who reside close to him. According to him, their jaws will drop. But that’s in the future.
Revisiting the past, well Friday, the thousands of West Indies supporters who attended, and larger numbers who watched in their homes across the Region and afar, predicted a Windies victory. The signs were there. The Team had rebounded. Some experts noted that the regional team had “turned the corner”. The Parrot is on record as being cautious of such statements. The signs were there; their inconsistency stands out.

Nevertheless, a loss was not on the minds of the frenzied crowd. England quietly amassed a challenging score. In the process, the rains came. As history has shown, rain cannot divorce itself from cricket.
The fairly heavy showers interrupted play for about thirty minutes. Again my friend was pleasantly shocked. He recalled that at the historical Bourda ground, such showers would have caused play to be abandoned! Not a ball was subtracted from the official time by the Umpires. He made a note for his reply to Uncle Freddie.

However, the Parrot is convinced that the Umpires miscalculated during the rain break. The lunch period should have been further reduced to ensure that play was not extended into dusk. Or they could have simply shaved an over or two from what was scheduled.
It takes a minimum of three hours and twenty minutes to complete fifty overs. That was in the past. Today there are frequent delays which extend this time. Starting the West Indies reply at 14:15 hrs was courting disaster. It meant that the Windies reply would have ended at 17:35 hrs. at a minimum; the sun would have been setting already!

The West Indies reply was slow. With more than half of the allotted overs gone, the target was way below half. Sars and Simmons gave their best. So did Tiger and Pollard. That memorable twenty-six runs Tiger took off one Harmison’s over sent the crowd into cricketing ecstasy. Harmison was shocked into nervousness. He dropped a catch shortly after. West Indies was on course to victory despite Sars and Tiger being back in the pavilion.

Then it came, like an anti-climax. Those who were present in the ground were not sure what happened. The West Indies batsmen at the crease took the offer by the Umpires of bad light. In a one-day match this offer is only taken when the team being offered is certain that they are ahead on the Duckworth/Lewis method. England knew they were ahead as evident by the piece of paper brought to the captain during the closing moments. Uncertainty abounded. After a while, a member of the Trini posse broke the news; Windies had lost; he received a call from someone in T&T.

Then, after agony, it was officially announced; West Indies lost; they, well the coach, miscalculated the formula! What rubbish! This is the most basic of things in a one-day match! Was Dyson’s mental capacity unfit?
The crowd left disappointedly. They miscalculated the West Indies team. Officials from the Finance Ministry who were in the green stand were fuming; they could have offered their expertise in calculation to Dyson if asked.
What’s the prediction for today? I am not going to venture into the realms of miscalculation. I am looking for a fat lady. Squawk! Squawk!

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