Intrepid Londoner JOSH SURTEES has just joined the staff of the T&T Guardian from its UK counterpart. On Friday, he braved rain, hot sun, ticket touts and winer girls to watch his first match at the Queen’s Park Oval. This is his report. I don’t remember ever seeing brawls outside the Kennington Oval in London, or girls in skimpy costumes dancing to a soca beat after every boundary. I guess the heat gets to you out here at the Queen’s Park Oval in Trinidad.
With several fans trying unsuccessfully to gain access to the coveted Trini Posse stand, where “premium all-inclusive drinks” flow, and music and dancing take precedence over the game itself, tensions are running high in the street outside.
India have just posted 311, their highest-ever score on this ground, under scorching conditions. Everybody wants a piece of the action; even celebrities are turned away, as is the father of the West Indies captain. My contact, a Trini Posse organiser, fails to materialise from inside the ground and the man-mountain security guards, three times the size of normal people, simply don’t want to hear my pathetic appeals that I’m an honourable member of the press. I am left floundering outside.
Ticket touts, operating quite freely in the streets, take issue with the bouncers for some imagined slight and all hell breaks loose for a minute or two. My first experience of cricket hooliganism. Meanwhile, in the airconditioned media centre, reporters wearing ties tuck into their packed lunches, oblivious to the chaos outside. The radio commentator describes the fans in the upper tier of the KFC stand as a “colony of butterflies” fanning themselves vigorously in the searing heat.
In the Carib stand, a group of Indian travelling supporters dressed all in white are conspicuous amongst a sea of maroon West Indies jerseys and caps. I am reminded of the Norman Tebbit test: Do Indo-Trinidadians support India when they play the West Indies, like many British Asians do back home when England play India? I’ve heard contradictory responses to this question from cricket fans I’ve asked this week, but here at the ground, every Trinidadian is getting firmly behind the Windies.
Back home in England, cricket is usually played in more sedate conditions. There are no tunes blaring from the speakers between overs. The MCC members at Lord’s simply wouldn’t have it. Having said that, supporters here in Port-of-Spain seem to pay more attention to matters on the field than the English, in spite of the noise and distractions. Back home, the cricket on the field is secondary to eating, drinking, chatting and even sleeping.
A tropical downpour halts proceedings in the tenth over of the WI innings and the ground staff drag a huge tarpaulin over the pitch. The music blares again. The stadium announcer asks if anybody is supporting India? Deafening silence follows and my Norman Tebbit-test question is answered. Nevertheless, the DJ proceeds to play some high-energy bhangra beat and Bollywood remixes to welcome our guests from the subcontinent.
The covers are taken off slowly and delicately, to ensure the water that has amassed on top of the tarpaulin doesn’t pour onto the pitch. Liming, dancing and general posing continues. Looking across to the Trini Posse stand it seems they prefer the rain interruptions, a chance to express themselves.
I’m beginning to understand the notion of VVIP in T&T. Wanting to be seen and noticed at a sporting event is unheard of in Britain, except for the “football casuals” whose displays of aggressive masculinity are often a blight on the sport. Here there is flamboyance on display as men cavort about and women in hot pants strut their stuff. It reminds me of American sports, where the cameras pan around the arena spotting talented dancers in the crowd.
But most of the action here is in the Carib Stand. I was promised an electric atmosphere from the Trini Posse supporters, but whether it’s the heat or the fact the Windies are getting destroyed, it’s a bit of a damp squib over there. The dancing girls dressed in Carib branded yellow and blue wine their waists, but those who have paid upwards of $550 for a Trini Posse ticket seem overcome by lethargy under the baking sun.
On the field, Ishant Sharma steams in from the Brian Lara Pavilion end, intimidating Johnson Charles into a loose shot that gives Raina catching practice at square leg. Two overs later, Sharma hurtles in again, his long locks flowing. You can feel Dwayne Bravo quaking in his boots. Moments later he’s on the deck, the ball having slammed into his crotch.
The sun descends in the sky but the temperature does not cool down. At 69-5, the West Indies supporters become subdued and some begin to leave. At the bar someone orders a bottle of Johnny Walker Black Label for $500. Extravagant. Maybe necessary to mask the pain.
A Mexican wave starts up. Trini Posse doesn’t join in. Presumably too busy discussing which bars to hit later. The Duckworth-Lewis method has left a 274-run target off 39 for West Indies to chase, which seems an impossible task. As the eighth wicket falls there is a mass exodus. I gaze off towards the lush green hills behind the Learie Constantine Stand. It’s a hot, sticky place to watch cricket, very different from the Oval home of Surrey county cricket club. Far more exciting.
I fear I may return here frequently. Starting on Sunday against Sri Lanka.