Better late than never

Bridgetown, Barbados: The two captains walked out for the toss at 9.55am Barbados time. And two hours later it was about the only bit of action that had taken place at the Kensington Oval venue for the 2007 World Cup final between Australia and Sri Lanka.

Australian skipper Ricky Ponting called correctly and elected to bat on a pitch that Sri Lankan skipper Jayawardene described as one that would have no "bearing on the toss".

Jayawardene's wish was granted, in a manner of speaking, but who knows what decision he may have taken should he have called correctly.

Maybe the option of bowling first would not have been a bad one: the conditions were overcast and the Sri Lankans had enough artillery to make the ball work in their favour.

Technical gibberish

It was as if a 'greater power' that has slowly and methodically squeezed the life out of this World Cup - ensuring that everything that can go wrong will go wrong - decided to play one last card in the final. It was played and in spades.

Shower after shower sprayed the Kensington Oval frustrating the efforts of the groundsmen who pulled off the covers and, in mid-operation, had to pull them back again. The sun tried to impose its decision on the clouds but got overruled time and again. It had to end some time...

Finally the call came for an uneasy truce between the humans and the elements. A decision was hammered out quickly: both sides would play 38 overs each. Three bowlers would bowl a maximum of eight overs. Two bowlers would bowl a maximum of seven and there would be just two powerplays. All this technical gibberish did not register with the crowds - there was a sizeable representation of Sri Lankans, Australians and the rest of the world - drinking and partying to the rhythmic beats of the calypso, soca (a Trinidadian derivative of calypso) and reggae. The party had started at 7am and even the showers could not deter the people from getting into the groove.

This, after all, is the Caribbean and this is their cricketing culture. While the players rule in the middle, the domain outside it belongs to the dee jay, the bar man and artistes like Bob Marley, Crazy, Patrice Roberts, Machel Montano and Destra.

It is a happy marriage of sport and music. Enough time to take a sip of the punch, do a quick snap of the hips to the music and then catch Adam Gilchrist flicking a six off Chaminda Vaas. This routine is effected in between balls, overs, boundaries and the drinks break.

And then it's back to the same old sequence.

Cricket has lost its old cultural, stiff upper lip primacy in this part of the world.

It is free from its shackles and people here take that very, very seriously.

There is one word that would define the game here: quite simply, it is sexy.

It is against this setting that Australia kept their concentration to cruise along their allotted quota of overs.