South Africa revel on Lord's stage as WTC gets showpiece it deserves

To be at Lord's on an increasingly glorious sunny Saturday was to witness a nation coming into full bloom. The morning mood was cloudy, and slightly cowed, as South Africa's batters did the absolute needful while the pressure was still too real. But then - as the songs in the stands began to ring out with a conviction that had not been heard all Test - came that moment of sweet, sweet release, on the stroke of 12.45pm.

And thereafter. Bedlam. A cavalcade of ecstasy, led by the players but lived by the fans, as the ICC machinery rolled into action: podiums and their mechanics, content gatherers and their equipment, swarming across the outfield as the players thereon hugged, and frolicked, and wept tears of joy and relief.

Aiden Markram found an old school friend by the boundary's edge and downed the first of many, many beers. Keshav Maharaj sobbed his way through an extraordinarily emotional TV interview, in which he doubled down on the unity of his team and the nation-building potential of the moment.

But then there was Temba. The unlikeliest rock star imaginable. The centre of everything, and yet somehow removed from it too - as if he alone had already come to terms with the significance of the achievement, and was able to look down on it with a detachment that his team-mates might need months to process.

Bavuma's demeanour spoke of a self-knowledge that he would go on to address in his post-match comments. His on-field contribution to the final day was one last hobbled single before Pat Cummins induced an edge, but with his third-day heroics already steeped in folklore, there was no let-up in the hosannahs that accompanied his every step.

"Oh Temba Bavuma," was the "Seven Nation Army"-inspired cry, from a sea of South African fans who had transformed Lord's into Newlands for one more glorious afternoon. Fireworks and green smoke-bombs accompanied his lifting of the mace, but perhaps the most extraordinary scenes occurred an hour later still - as Bavuma emerged from his media duties, onto the concourse behind the pavilion which by now was awash with delirious, cavorting fans.

As it happens, the great Barry Richards was lurking on the fringes of this melee, eager to extend his congratulations. Whether or not he was able to get close enough to do so, it's hard to say for sure. As the crowd pressed in to greet him, Bavuma - all five-foot-nothing in his little stocking-ed feet - was spirited away by two hulking bodyguards, his baggy-green barely visible as Bavumania went into overdrive. Anyone new to cricket (or to the notion of Temba Bavuma the global icon) might have assumed Sabrina Carpenter was in the building for a post-match rendition of "Shosholoza".

"We could feel the energy coming from the fans," Bavuma said. "There were a lot of South Africans out there in the stands, people who had flown over from South Africa, people who were also based here in London. I was giving about 10-15 tickets a day to people.

"So we all have relatives or friends in the stands, and depending what state we are in, we'll catch a beer with them later. But it's been phenomenal. I'm playing a final here at Lord's, hearing songs that you're accustomed to back home in South Africa, and for us to perform the way that that we did - if you're a sporting fan, you really got your money's worth. It was a proper entertainment."

But it was a proper occasion too, and given the invidious circumstances in which the World Test Championship came into being, that fact was arguably even more important than a victory that could yet re-energise South Africa's commitment to the format.

Two facts collided with exquisite timing over the course of this contest. Firstly, we were served up unequivocal proof of England's primacy as the host nation for the WTC final.

We've seen it in England's frequent stagings of World Cups and Champions Trophies - most notably in 2019, but even as long ago as 1999, when the show rolled on magnificently even after England's early exit had left the organisers braced for disaster.

It's not partisan to declare that this occasion would have been diminished had it been held anywhere else (except maybe for the actual Newlands, although two years ago, who would have given South Africa any hope of qualification?) You only have to compare the wild scenes at Lord's with the abject desertion of interest at the moment of Cummins' trophy lift in Ahmedabad at the 2023 World Cup final to realise why - against many expectations - England seems deservedly close to securing hosting rights for the next three WTC cycles.

And that brings us onto the second crucial reason why this week's events were such a triumph. The very notion of a WTC final was kicked into the long grass a decade before it came to fruition, because of TV company terror that an occasion that did not include India was not one that could be adequately marketed.

To that end, it was deeply opportune that India were present in each of the first two stagings - irrespective of the fact that they came up short in both, those eyeballs were already invested by the time New Zealand and Australia claimed the mace. This was especially true in the near-catastrophic first final in 2021, which was first shunted out to the Hampshire Bowl because of Covid, then almost drowned in four days of rain.

Here then, at the third time of asking, was the India-absence acid test - but cometh the hour, cometh the Lord's factor to shore up the spectacle, and in fact elevate it to new heights.

The old ground's first staging was a deus ex machina triumph. Not unlike the King's promise of a state visit to encourage Donald Trump into favourable trading arrangements, the roll-out of the full MCC pomp and circumstance was exactly the show of class that deserves exemption from the classist, elitist brickbats that the old institution habitually attracts.

It needed the accessibility of the occasion to bring out its best, however, as the ubiquity of the members' egg-and-bacon regalia was for once diluted to form part of the spectacle, like guardsmen at Buckingham Palace, rather than the central pillar of the support.

This has sometimes been the case on non-presold fifth days of England Tests, when that habitual contented hum of the regular patron gives way to the real passion and genuine awe of the uninitiated. But it has tended to be ICC events when the formula has worked best - such as the 2009 World T20 final, when Sri Lanka and Pakistan duked it out in one of the most joyfully rowdy gatherings the ground has ever known, and now this latest magnificent gathering of the expat clans.

"I thought we might have been outnumbered," Markram said after the game. "But to have 'Shoshaloza' and those sorts of songs ringing around Lord's is very different to the normal Lord's, but very awesome for us as South Africans to hear.

"Everyone came out, supported us, made the effort. Even when we got behind the eight-ball, they were fully invested. The fans have been through thick and thin with us, so it's just as special for them."

And that, fundamentally, is what this week was all about. It's not in cricket's nature to give much back to its fans right now - and right up until the first ball of this final, the WTC concept had been grudgingly accommodated at best. But if you're going to have a showpiece, it deserves to be a show.

This one became a show that South Africans will never forget. Irrespective of allegiance, that fact deserves to elevate everyone who was invested. Both on and off the field.