Let's make some noise

Graeme Smith: "It's really big among the public here and I know the guys really enjoy it" © Getty Images

The Twenty20 World Championship was officially launched in Johannesburg on Thursday and it was quickly made abundantly clear that there will be nothing twee about the inaugural tournament.

Just as the 20-over game has exaggerated scoring in one-day internationals, so all the razzmatazz, glitz and noise will be cranked up a gear when the World Twenty20 Championship starts in South Africa on September 11.

Cricket South Africa will use the DJs and dancers that perform in their domestic competition so spectators will have no respite from a barrage of noise and action, something that seems vital if the youth of today are to be excited.

And that is exactly why the approach is being used. The ICC and CSA made it clear on Thursday that their inaugural Twenty20 World Championship is unashamedly targeting the youth as they put on a brash, noisy show that was nevertheless compulsively watchable and highly entertaining. Even the tournament name has been abbreviated to the T20 for short attention spans.

"Sometimes fun and serious don't go together, but we believe it can in T20," Dave Richardson, the ICC general manager, said somewhat bashfully.

Steve Elworthy, the tournament director, added: "The youth is our new target market and we need to capitalise on that. Hopefully we can make sure we leave a legacy of supporters and that they make the transition across to the other formats of the game."

Graeme Smith, the South Africa captain, added the players' viewpoint. "It's very special that the first T20 is being held in our own country, it's really big among the public here and I know the guys really enjoy it.

"Twenty20 has helped the game move with modern times and it has made every format of the game more exciting," he said. "It has certainly broken moulds in our own thinking and it's special to be part of something that will bring new people to the game."

Richardson, who admitted he was something of a dour batsman in his days as South Africa's first post-isolation wicketkeeper, said: "I think the tournament is going to show just how good the players are. They will have the freedom to play like never before and their skills will come to the fore. There are no inhibitions, you can just express yourself, and I believe spectators will see something special."

The assorted guests at the launch, most of whom were probably old enough to have children of their own, were treated to a blitz of teenage culture. DJ Lady Leah was spinning discs and flashing more hand-signals than Billy Bowden, accompanying breakdancers literally tore up the carpet, Dr Beat, an ultra-cool pimp-type character, is, astonishingly, the official tournament mascot together with a couple of buxom nurses, and hard-hats will be on offer at all grounds to protect what's left of the spectators' brains after their senses have been mercilessly assailed.

But some of the entertainment was geared towards a more "mature" audience. A roar of guttural Harley-Davidsons was on hand to take a few South African players and willing guests for a quick spin and won approval from the older folk.

The whole idea is to make cricket as appealing as possible to new fans and, after the 50-over World Cup fiasco, I'm a wholehearted supporter of that. Even if there is little dignified or subtle about it.

Any batsman daring to try an arty nudge into the gap for one will face open humiliation. Bare-faced aggression is what is expected and what better country to start the ball rolling than South Africa, who, judging by the launch, will certainly provide us with a spectacle.