Stanford success highlights WICB's woes

Allen Stanford: providing a model in organisation, player and public relations, and not least, accountability for the WICB and its regional affiliates to follow © Joseph Jones

The contrast could not be more stark, the coincidence more ironic.

In the same week that its auditors reported to the West Indies Cricket Board (WICB) that its accumulated debt had reached US$34.9 million, rendering it effectively bankrupt, the richest tournament the game has ever known, anywhere, and involving all the territories under its jurisdiction, was in full triumphant swing, not five miles away from where it has its headquarters.

While the WICB has remained solvent only through money borrowed against the expected, but not guaranteed, windfall from its hosting of next year's World Cup, Allen Stanford, the Texan tycoon who has based part of his global financial operations in Antigua for more than two decades, has been delighting daily in the success of the 20/20 Tournament he conceived and financed with an amount that would instantly erase the WICB's liabilities.

There has been widespread scepticism since Stanford launched his project last October, promising US$28 million in prize money and infrastructural investment in West Indies cricket and proclaiming that his "vision for the Stanford 20/20 Tournament is that it will be a catalyst for a resurgence of the love for the game, that it will signal a return to the glory days".

The initial response was typical. The most frequent misgivings surrounded the motives of an American billionaire with a controversial background in Antigua - and white to boot - pouring so much cash into a game that has been a West Indian passion even longer than baseball has been America's.

Even if he really was convinced his money was the magic wand to reverse the prolonged decline in the fortunes of West Indies cricket, surely his choice of a glorified form of tip-and-run betrayed his naivety. Although he employed 14 of the greatest West Indies players as his board of directors and dubbed them "legends", Stanford himself realised the attitude was inevitable.

"They'll be asking who's this rich Texan coming to take over our sport?" he mused at the time. He won't, of course, but against the almost daily evidence of the WICB's continuing mismanagement and the squandermania that has contributed to its parlous financial position, the idea is not so preposterous.

Had the WICB done its job, a Stanford 20/20 would have been redundant. Had it properly utilised its sizeable sponsorships from Sky TV, Cable & Wireless and now Digicel, it would not have had to close its academy, slash its first-class tournament in half and ponder its future.

Apart from the financial, Stanford is providing a model in organisation, player and public relations, and not least, accountability for the WICB and its regional affiliates to follow. He has assigned each of his directors to the 19 territories involved in the tournament and charged them with ensuring that an operating expenditure summary is submitted for the US$100 000 given to upgrade facilities, training and coaching. Each must also account for the further US$15 000 a month to be used for maintenance and salaries.

These are significant sums - and not simply for the smaller islands. They have been widely welcomed, and with a few exceptions (Barbados reportedly among them), already put to use.

Yet, as was revealed in the Enoch Lewis report on WICB spending a few months back, such allocations have tended to be consumed by "administrative costs" such as first-class air travel, five-star hotels, international telephone calls, and "third party fees and meetings".

There is hardly a West Indian cricketer who could pick out WICB president Ken Gordon or vice-president Val Banks in an identity parade. It may upset some but, as any politician knows, it makes a world of difference

Wherever else Stanford's money is bound, the showpiece is the 20/20 Tournament itself. It is the first of its kind in the West Indies, so he was drifting into virgin waters. The unprecedented prize money (US$1 million to the champions, US$500 000 to the runners-up, the multiple thousands for Man of the Match and Play of the Match) were enticing enough to create interest, but it was impossible to know how the new format would be accepted by a public weaned primarily in the traditional game.

As in England and South Africa, where such tournaments have been going for three seasons, the concentrated action, the matches under lights, the colourful outfits, the music, the razzmatazz have all attracted a new clientele.

The crowds at the cricket ground Stanford has purpose-built in the midst of his complex of offices, restaurants and gym-club, adjacent to the VC Bird International Airport, have grown every night to beyond the 4 000 capacity. On Wednesday and Friday, the gates had to be closed. The majority have been women, teenagers and children, and they have reflected Antigua's strong mix of Caribbean people.

On Friday night, in their team's first matches, Guyanese and Jamaicans, waving their flags, wearing the colours and shouting their support, clearly outnumbered locals. The noise will be heard in Kingston and Georgetown when the teams meet in the quarter-final on Friday night. The cricket in the first two weeks of the tournament, mostly involving the smaller, least experienced teams, has been predictably sub-standard, especially the batting. But this was a rare occasion for firemen, taxi drivers, postmen, customs officers and the like, whose cricket is confined to weekend club matches, to show off their talents in televised matches before bigger attendances than they have ever known. Whether they were in their 40s, as many were, or in their teens, as five from Anguilla were, whether they were 300 pounds or 100, their enthusiasm and energy was boundless and the feature of the contests.

And a few youngsters have attracted attention. No talent was more instantly recognisable than that of Keiron Powell, a tall, slim 16-year-old left-hander from Nevis, who pulled the first ball he faced effortlessly for six and then reeled off two exquisite cover drives that had the legends making quick mental notes.

If there is a brash American touch to Stanford's omnipresent involvement - shaking hands with every player, hugging the winners, joining in each team photo-shoot, presenting every cheque, mingling in the stand with admirers - everyone knows who he is, and who is behind the tournament.

There is hardly a West Indian cricketer who could pick out WICB president Ken Gordon or vice-president Val Banks in an identity parade. It may upset some but, as any politician knows, it makes a world of difference.