Neil Manthorp Cricket
A “Carnival of Cricket” indeed. The organisers’ slogan for this tournament might even have worked if the competition had not turned so quickly into a circus, and a badly organised one at that. The opening ceremony produced more laughs than a red-nosed clown and World Cup simply hasn’t looked back, err, forward since.
The members of the MCC vetoed plans for a dancing pageant on the Lord’s outfield lest anybody should actually enjoy themselves, and then boycotted the opening match in large numbers anyway because they had to buy tickets for their pavilion seats (at 25% discount). The sight of so many empty seats, prime seats too, made you feel sick.
Arrogance has always been an English specialty but the last three weeks in this country have been quite staggering. It is difficult to know where to start, although Rudi Koertzen is as good a place as any.
The South African umpire made it known, subtly, that his idea of officiating in the game’s greatest tournament did not include lugging his (necessarily heavy) bags from train station to taxi to bed ‘n breakfast four times a week and trying survive on 50 a day.
The organisers, far from apologising for their treatment of the officials, issued a terse statement a couple of days later saying: “The shortfall in allowances has been made up with a lump sum.” The amount was not revealed, and no apology was made. There wasn’t even a suggestion of embarrassment because that would have required humility.
The alarm bells rang loud and clear for the media when the eight South African journalists who arrived with the team were unable to fit in the press box to watch the warm-up match against Sussex. This, I promise you, is the explanation we received from the media officer: “We have decided to take this tournament to the people which means there is less room for the media. Sorry.”
A week later, for the Indian game, a second room was made available for the world’s media – seating 16. Forty more pressmen were given a seat in an open stand with no power, and nowhere to work, among justifiably passionate supporters whose idea (rightly) was to imbibe and enjoy as much spirit as possible. A senior Indian reporter, with tears of anger in his eyes, said: “I have never been so humiliated in 20 years of reporting.”
The South African-pioneered Pana-eye system for the third umpire, having been pooh- poohed by the English for months before the tournament (presumably because they know best, or was it the cost?), was introduced at the last minute here leaving no time to perfect its use. It failed for two consecutive deliveries in the Pakistan/West Indies match, denying Saqlain Mushtaq two likely wickets. “Oh dear,” commented David Gower on Sky. When the third ball was safely blocked, Richie Benaud, on the BBC, said, with deep irony: “And that is not a hat tick.”
The Asian influence in this tournament is enormous. Cricket is growing on the subcontinent faster than anywhere else and the four teams from that part of the world enjoy – by a massive margin – the most support. Did the organisers think of that? Sure. That’s why India had to play South Africa in a ground holding 6 000 when 26 000 tickets could have been sold in one day in any of the cities with Test venues. That’s why 4 000 Muslim Bangla-deshi fans had the choice between ham sandwiches and cold bacon rolls for lunch when they travelled to Chelmsford for their first match against New Zealand.
Only one word is more appropriate than “arrogant” for what we have seen so far: “cheap”. From the pathetic opening ceremony, which was quickly and thankfully obscured from our view by the smoke from damp firecrackers, to the utter contempt with which working and spectating visitors – from around the world – have been treated, it has been cheap.
Even the promotion of the tournament has been low budget. Walk down any street and ask a dozen people who will win the World Cup and you will draw three blank looks, two “dunnos” and about three answers of “Manchester United”.
The best way to “take the game to the people”, of course, is to make sure as many of them as possible can read, watch and listen to the action. Not only was the match report that appears on these pages written from the car park, but the SABC radio crew in England were denied access to the post-match press conference to hear Hansie Cronje’s thoughts. Cronje, bless him, made the effort to seek out the missing men when he left the conference.
Estimates of turnover for this tournament range between 15-million and 18-million. That sum could have been at least a tenner higher had the organisers not decided to splash out on two sandwiches each for the media’s lunch. Those of us who covered the 1995 Rugby World Cup can only shudder at the memory of how each and every stadium spent hundreds of thousands of rand upgrading facilities for the benefit of crowds and media (most of whom came from England) alike.
Take the tournament to the people. Well, here it is – in all its glory. Thank goodness for the South African team; at least we have the real prospect of forgetting the crass ineptitude with which the tournament has started. What ever will the Bangladeshis think when they get home? At least we have one match in Holland: it’ll be the highlight of the qualifying rounds if last year’s experience is anything to go by.
Neil Manthorp has covered cricket in every Test-playing country except the West Indies, as well as most of South Africa’s international tours