Why Antigua is just not ready

The islands of St Kitts and Antigua are separated by just 63 miles of water, but in terms of preparedness for this World Cup, they might as well be at opposite extremes of the widest ocean on the planet. Over the past four days at the Sir Vivian Richards stadium, I have watched with an uncontrived sense of depression a West Indian campaign that began with such hope in Jamaica has floundered with barely a whimper.

No-one seems to care that the ship is sinking, and that is unbelievably sad. On Wednesday, Brian Lara expressed his disappointment at the lack of local support; by Thursday, he seemed to have taken matters into his own hands by marshalling a West Indian performance of such staggering indifference, it might as well have been a V-sign to the few fans who made it to the ground. By Saturday, for the want of a viable supersopper, an intriguing match-up between Australia and Bangladesh was reduced to yet another farce.

In the circumstances, a reasonable crowd of 3000 hung around to witness the non-events, and they deserved to be congratulated. The hoops through which these people have been forced to jump for this leg of the tournament, the distances they have been asked to travel, and the prices they've been expected to pay are unreasonable by any standards, let alone on an island so small that a quarter of the population would have had to be mobilised if the 20,000 capacity was to be filled.

The Local Organising Committee can bleat all it likes about overseas ticket sales and the failure of India's disgruntled fans to fulfil their travel plans; the blame lies squarely with an administration that has badly misjudged the needs and priorities of this particular venue.

Let's compare for a moment with St Kitts. That experience was by no means perfect - several Scottish fans have since vented their frustration at the "petty restrictions" and "mad ticketing policy" that detracted from the cricket they witnessed. But in those matches, the failure to fill the stands was a disappointment but far from a calamity.

As Ricky Skerritt, the tourism minister and former West Indian manager, explained at the time, their 15 days of fame amounted to a shop window for much-needed investment in a tiny economy that is largely untouched by tourism. Or by cricket, for that matter. The island has never yet produced an international player.

Antigua, on the other hand, has erred on two fronts. Firstly they have neglected the richness of this island's cricket heritage. Never mind King Viv himself, other legends of the land include Andy Roberts, Curtly Ambrose, Richie Richardson and both Winston and Kenny Benjamin, all of whom plied their trade at the now-neglected Antigua Recreation Ground, right in the heart of St John's - the sort of venue you could enter at the drop of a hat if, for example, you got wind of the fact that Richards was hurtling towards a 56-ball hundred.

That passion has been dulled by this tournament's sanitising of the spectator experience, but the other mistake that Antigua has made (though it is the flip side of the same coin) is its overt pandering to cricket tourism. Frankly, an island with 365 beaches attracts enough cruise-ships and package tourists to account for every grain of sand in the land. The game here had no need to prostrate itself before the tourism dollar, and yet in doing so, it has been taken away from the people who loved it, and deposited, quite literally, in the middle of nowhere.

Let's try to give credit where it is due. The Sir Vivian Richards Stadium is, for all its flawed location, a fine and upstanding work of architecture, "a credit to the people of Antigua", as Lara described it this week. It is a brand-new build which balances two fine and imposing grandstands, and still maintains enough of an open unconstrained feel thanks to the two grassy party stands on either side of the pitch and a permanent paddling pool at cow corner.

It is visible from miles around, thanks to its four banks of floodlights which - though insufficient for a day-night cricket match - will be a huge asset if football internationals ever come to this venue. But on all sides, and stretching for miles, lie the detritus of uncompleted construction work. This island simply isn't ready, and that fact extends to many other projects that have been hampered by the World Cup effect.

There is an incomplete feel to vast swathes of Antigua at present. The escalating costs of steel and cement - largely attributed to the region's new stadia - have held up all manner of projects, from the spanking great Sandals resort to the north of St John's to the skeletal private builds that dot the island's interior. The economy may recover when the dust begins to settle, but as far as cricket is concerned, the damage may have been done, both to the game's reputation and its positioning in the public's affection.