Two sides of the Twenty20 debate

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Twenty20 contrives its thrills in a crayon-drawn format so pre-ordained, so soul-grindingly repetitive, that its defenders declare it foolproof, but then what happens when one of two allegedly competitive teams has neither the form nor the inclination to make a match of it? We saw it at The Oval on Sunday night. It is a hideously jerked-up formulaic parody of the real game, the one that delighted such as Pinter and Samuel Beckett and was once lauded by a visiting African chieftain, a guest at Lord's of the Foreign Office, as the finest, most elaborate and still most subtle rain-making ceremony ever devised. Twenty20 is about as subtle as a ram-raid.
Stuart Broad's meltdown followed by Stuart Broad's comeback. Gayle's sixes on to the road and the roof. Mike Hussey's fluffed catch. Kevin Pietersen turning his back on twos with distinctly regal waves. Ajantha Mendis beguiling the Aussies and Tillekeratne Dilshan moving to a half-century by flicking the ball over both his head and Brad Haddin's. The O'Brien brothers. Stumps for goalposts. Marvellous! Not proper cricket? How about proper sport in that case?