T20 World Cup | US is hosting the biggest cricket event but fanfare is missing

New York: Larger-than-life pick-up trucks with speckled folk in sunglasses, mullets and a Bud Light in their hands. A never-ending exchange of ‘hellos’ and ‘goodbyes’ on expressways to somewhere. Google Map orders on sleep-inducing tarmac, turnpike announcements, low-layered stone bridges of ancient origins…

It’s a scene you know, but you don’t quite know how, and then you see more. And then, one exit road and you’re in suburbia. 

That white-picket-fence dream of American forefathers has not gone in vain, it lives and breathes as freely as claimed. You can even see it thrive in the faces of those thronging McDonalds, Burger King, Chipotle, Taco Bell, Arby’s and the likes. 

Right across the road from all of these establishments, and a forgettable number of second-hand car sales stores, is Eisenhower Park in East Meadow. It’s one of the biggest parks in the country at over 900 acres, even bigger than Central Park in New York proper, but it stands there without fanfare, just a board which says: ‘welcome’.

Nothing until this point suggests that one of the biggest events the International Cricket Council has organised in recent history is taking shape. 

To catch a glimpse of that, you need to navigate past a golf course, squirrels the size of small cats, unsettling glances from State Troopers aboard shiny cars, a kilometre and more of walking – cars are not allowed inside during the event – and then you see a massive skeleton with a poster. It’s mostly black but in the middle, it says: ‘ICC T20 World Cup 2024, West Indies and New York’. 

Save for the movement of workers looking to put his metal marvel in top shape for the tournament, there is no hype (well, the police are so stringent in these parts that there is no room for hype anyway) and no drama you typically associate with an event of this magnitude. 

That’s twenty of the best teams in the world playing cricket in a country which didn’t want the sport in the first place. It’s unusual, but it’s here, and law enforcement is not particularly clued in as to what needs to be done. 

From the time of immigration at the airport to collecting passes to entering the ground to going to the practice venue a few miles away, nothing about cricket and its people is known to those draped in a Star-Spangled echo chamber.

For instance, Ravi Shastri, a rather large body with an even larger body of work, was stuck at immigration for two hours a couple of days ago. There is not one fast-track lane in John F Kennedy Airport’s conscience to help push through those headed to the World Cup, and Shastri is not just one of ‘those’. 

At the venue, the signages get smaller and smaller and more complicated to understand, and when you do approach the cops… Let’s say it’s not easy taking directions from those who have their hands casually feeling for the safety lock on their guns. 

A mid-sized trailer has been turned into a media pass-collection centre, and obviously, it plays the likes of Creedence Clearwater Revival and something or the other which involves American pride. 

Those who know their roles at the venue are quick to smile and quicker to sort out the chinks. Those who don’t, are civil to a fault, but their discomfort for aliens is plenty evident.

As you leave Eisenhower Park to board a cab towards Cantiagua Park where the teams are practicing and the press conferences are scheduled, you realise just how true all of this is to all that is said and seen about America. 

It only gets more real as you walk through the deserted Cantiagua and into a couple of State Trooper cars blocking the road to the practice facility at what seems like a club for senior citizens. The cops want to know why we’re there, but they really don’t care. They only need to see if we’re trouble or not. They eventually smile and apologise and let us through, but by now, everyone is on edge. 

Even South African legend Dale Steyn is waiting by the side of the road to gain entry to watch South Africa practice. “They aren’t letting me in because I don’t have the right credentials, apparently,” he says, sipping on Coca-Cola as his clueless chauffeur looks on. 

“South Africa’s practice is over,” he asks. 

“Yeah,” we respond. 

“This is ridiculous. I don’t know what to do now. I guess I’ll wait around and see what happens,” he says. “

He could well be speaking for cricket itself.