Over to the day after, memories in tow

Close to the temporary stage, now deserted, on which ICC officials stood when they were booed by the crowd and the Aussies marched to collect the trophy to a wild cheer, lies a heap of small, shining ticker tape that sparkles in the hard morning sun. They seem more visible under the clear sky now than they were, when they fell in honour of the mighty Aussies in the dimly-lit stadium.

Spotting the sun had been the biggest concern just 24 hours ago and strangely it is the same today. If on the rainy Saturday morning many under umbrellas searched for the sun, on Sunday the umbrellas were still out for a day at the beach after a long drawn day of cricket.

But not everyone is having an easy Sunday here at Bridgetown. The workers are out dismantling the dented advertising hoarding that suffered many blows from Adam Gilchrist and Kumara Sangakkara all day. “It is a strange kind of sinking feeling one gets doing this. This is in total contrast to the high enthusiasm one has on the match eve when we are placing them,” says a ground worker.

And that sinking feeling is something that the entire Island is feeling at the end of the show that they so much wanted to go well. After last night’s drama the organisers might want to forget this logistical nightmare that didn’t go on expected lines, but the man on the street or those at the stadium a day after will remember the small things, to cherish for the rest of their lives.

The human face of this World Cup had been the volunteers, who despite the strict instruction from higher ups, did their best to make the frisking, checking and restricting a bearable necessary ordeal. One of them happens to be ever-smiling overtly friendly Steve, who today isn’t in his usual orange-and-yellow-with-motifs outfit.

Meeting him outside the stadium, he says, “It’s kind of depressing. Now it is back to my old life of home and office. Though at times I will wear my yellow-orange gear to remember the World Cup we hosted.”

As one moves towards the media centre, that had been the hub of activity last morning, empty computers, silent keyboards and orphaned internet cables symbolise that the sporting news hub has been shifted and datelines across the world on sports pages would no longer have the exotic Caribbean touch.

Watching the stadium a day after the final one realises how it might soon shrink, never ever have that grand look again. The mobile toilets that had uniformly surrounded the stadium now stand in regimented rows, waiting to be moved out. The lengthy chain of shops with shutters down after a day of good business makes one wonder when next they will get another April 28 kind of cash counter day.

The temporary stands that helped increase the capacity of the stadium will soon be dismantled. But questions are already being asked if for future games there can ever be packed houses, despite the reduced capacity.

Walking towards the stands where the armies of Aussie fans were, one finds himself in the middle the discarded ‘4s’ and ‘6s’, an orphaned poster saying ‘oh, aah, McGrath’ and some discarded plastic cups. There is also ‘James (Sydney) 28/4/07 I was here’ scratched on the corner of a seat.

Very soon the West Indies will get over the World Cup hangover, the bottle from the pitch will be removed and the seats repainted, but the memory of Adam Gilchrist at the Kensington Oval on 28/4/07 might never fade.