Opinion Don’t hunt the minnows

But cricket’s governing body though,didn’t seem to enjoy it too much. When the ICC decided to field only the 10 Test-playing nations in the 2015 event in Australia,they robbed the game not only of fantastic David-Goliath fables,but also of glorious moments. It was one such,a dozen summers ago in the chilly suburbs of Northampton in England,that eventually gave rise to the manic scenes in Bangladesh.

Playing in their first World Cup in 1999,Rafique and Co upset Pakistan in a group game by 63 runs,and celebrations then snowballed into today’s frenzy. Team Bangladesh was fast-tracked to Test status within a year of the incredible win. And despite a string of ego-crushing losses,the country clung to their cricket pride,waiting four years at a time. In 2007,eight years and two Cups on,Bangladesh went one better — knocking India out of the tournament in the first round,reaching the second stage for the first time.

A packed house,which had bought tickets months in advance of what was expected to be an exciting India-Pakistan clash in the Super Eights grudgingly ended up watching,incredibly,Bangladesh take on Ireland. For on St Patrick’s Day,an Irish team of painters,teachers and farmers had packed off Inzamam ul-Haq’s Pakistan at Kingston’s Sabina Park,the greatest upset in World Cup history.

2007’s Irish were following on a rich tradition,one at least as old as 15 years ago,in Pune. After a bunch of blurry-eyed Kenyans skittled out the mighty West Indies for a paltry 93,cricket and its most-watched event were never the same again. Almost cosmically,it occurred on February 29 — a day that shows up only as often as the World Cup does. Trying to come to terms with that precedent-setting game,the then West Indies skipper Richie Richardson wept,saying the loss hurt more than his father’s death. On the other hand,Maurice Odumbe,Steve Tikolo and the Otieno brothers became household names in India,as they would seven years later in South Africa when they reached the semi-finals,the first Associate nation to do so.

The World Cup is the only event where non-Test countries can rub shoulders with the best in the business. And they have repeatedly dreamed of that one shot at worldwide recognition,of replacing the “minnow” label with one saying “giant-slayers”.

And it isn’t just the victories that are remembered. Individual feats are too. Dwayne Leverock,the 280-pound Bermudan,created one such when both he and his excess flab were airborne for a few seconds at first slip — the catch of the 2007 World Cup. Sluggo,as he is known in Bermuda,ensured that India’s first score of over 400 was for ever overshadowed. Irish skipper Trent Johnston’s chicken dance following every wicket became an instant rage in the Caribbean. Nor need the moments be glorious to be remembered; when United Arab Emirates captain Sultan Zarawani decided to face Allan Donald without a helmet in 1996,the first ball,a lightning-quick bouncer,hit his temple — triggering off catcalls and boos from faithful underdog-lovers in Rawalpindi. These fans are found everywhere during World Cups,packing houses to support the minnows — just like they did in Nagpur on Tuesday.

Understandably,only a handful of spectators had turned up to watch the Dutch take on England. But by the time Ryan ten Doeschate scored his century,the numbers had trebled,the stands rattling with screaming supporters sniffing another upset. Hundreds of Oranje flags appeared magically. England won the game with eight balls to spare,but back home in the Netherlands,the impossible had happened — the cricketers had momentarily replaced the footballing gods on TV screens. It’s a pity then that,even many years later,Amsterdam won’t experience a cricketing moment like Dhaka did. ICC has made sure that whatever the ten Doeschates of the Associate world produce in this World Cup,no new countries will dance under a bat-wielding Ann Darrow.