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Even in pouring rain, interest for Sunday's game is high
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When you touch down at the Lokepriyo Gopinath Bordoloi
airport, a modest building fronts an airport in hilly
Guwahati in India's north-east. Grey Indian airforce
aircraft easily outnumber their brighter commercial
counterparts. The runway seems to apologise for
encroaching on the carpet of green that is interrupted
only by the odd outcrop of rock and the Brahmaputra,
not quite in spate, but flowing with pride and
confidence, occasionally swelling at the banks like a
woman carrying a few extra pounds who nevertheless
knows she is a thing of beauty. England, wilting in
the heat, desperately need a change of fortunes, and
whether they will get that is doubtful. At least
they will get a change of scenery.
The fierce heat and oppressive humidity at Kochi that
smothered England like a wet blanket have given way to
Mancunian noon-time temperatures in the early
twenties, overcast skies and a generous if erratic
sprinkling of rain and even hail at Guwahati. The
drive from the airport, which is more than 20
kilometres out of the city, to the hotel should please
England. The wide open spaces of rolling green are not
quite the Yorkshire moors, but will soothe the eyes of
weary travellers spending far too much time in airport
lounges.
That said, there is much to complain about if you like
- the roads are small and when you try to cross the
road you're just as likely to be mowed down by a cycle
rickshaw as a bus; the communication facilities are
far from adequate; the quality of hotels make you long
for your bed back home - but you'd be missing the
point if you let all that get to you.
You'd be missing the non-stop references to the
rhinoceros, that majestic and tragically endangered
beast that has come to represent the region thanks to
the Kaziranga National Park. Here everything from
road-side restaurants to cement is rhino-branded.
You'd be losing out on the story of the struggle of
the North East where secessionists have been locked in
a long, bloody battle with the authorities. You would
not recognise the smile that cricket puts on faces in
far-flung outposts like this.
Assam may not have produced a cricketer of note, but
judging by the enthusiastic turnout of fans on the day
before the game, even in pouring rain, interest for
the game is high. The ICC has nakedly embraced taking the game to new regions,
urging everyone from Eskimos to Chinamen to pick up
bat and ball when there are places in a cricket-mad
country like India that barely get a big game, and
don't get the encouragement they need to develop the
infrastructure required to develop the game.
The cricket ground itself is a pretty picture. You'd
think the man with the rose in his lapel, Jawaharlal
Nehru, was the biggest patron of sport in this country
- this is the third game on the trot that will be
played in a stadium named after him. The stands are
quite low, and would struggle to hold even 25000
people, the outfield is lush green, the pavilion
understated and the surrounds leafy. Cast your eye to
the horizon in any direction and you will see the
hills, and the nearest one has a temple and television
tower jostling for attention.
Sadly, though, the hills don't make for pretty viewing
at the moment. The rain and bad weather have all been
coming from there. The afternoon's downpour,
accompanied by thunder, lightning and finally hail,
made the Assam Cricket Association despair. They're
working hard to get this game going, and despite the
falling rain had not given up hope, though it is
increasingly appearing likely that Guwahati might have
to wait another two years or so for the privilege of
hosting international cricket.