The official motto of the ICC Men’s Cricket World Cup 2023 was It Takes One Day. If this sounded grudging – less eight hours of sustained sporting thrills, more parental persuasion before a rain-sodden trip to a stately home – then the reality was more exhausting.
But after 46 days, 48 matches, 10 cities, and endless, endless air miles, the tournament had delivered a fitting stage for the cream of the sport and a dramatic plot twist at the end: Australia broke the hearts of an expectant India with victory in the final, the underdogs triumphant on the day even if it was also their sixth men’s title.
The good
Starting amid existential angst about the future of one-day international cricket, the tournament saw a record number of attendees and TV viewers. Wikipedia – an unusual barometer admittedly – even reported it was its third most-viewed page globally in 2023. In short, the format may be losing traction as bilateral fodder but its quadrennial gathering is still prime real estate.
So much of this came down to the dizzying tamasha that is cricket in India and a home side that charged like a bull down the streets of Pamplona. That was until Australia swished the matador’s cape on the final straight, denying Narendra Modi the photo opportunity India’s prime minister so craved. He reluctantly handed the trophy to Pat Cummins and – in the resulting memes at least – shuffled off to the theme tune of Curb Your Enthusiasm.
The good was very much Australia in the knockouts and on the day, be it the impresario captaincy of Cummins, a wing-heeled fielding display, or a gunslinger’s century from Travis Head. A run of three successive home champions was also ended here – another boon for a competition that risked becoming too predictable, even if 92,000 attendees and millions watching at home were unlikely to have been consoled by the fact.
Had India been hoisted by their own petard? Schadenfreude certainly abounded in this regard after reports their team management had an input into Ahmedabad’s moonscape of a pitch. Either way, it was a cruel end for a side that had shone so brightly. And in fairness to the groundstaff across the 10 venues, the variety of surfaces and conditions witnessed over seven weeks was excellent.
They allowed for technicians such as Virat Kohli to showcase their class, so, too, a Twenty20 maverick such as Glenn Maxwell, whose unbeaten 201 against Afghanistan was spoken about as one of – for mine, the – greatest ODI innings of all time. But bowlers were in the contest, India’s attack the irrepressible pick of them until the last. Mohammad Shami struck a blow for purveyors of seam-up precision in a world of T20 Bertie Bassetts; so, too, did Australia’s big three quicks.
South Africa’s run to their inevitable semi-final heartbreak featured some wonderfully dynamic batting, while Afghanistan’s four wins – including England’s debacle in Delhi – made for heartening fare (even if offset by the ban on women’s cricket back home). Having elbowed aside West Indies, Ireland and Zimbabwe in the qualifiers, the Netherlands also snatched two juicy group stage pelts: South Africa and Bangladesh.
New stars announced themselves, such as Rachin Ravindra, New Zealand’s glossy left-hander, the South African hell-raiser Gerald Coetzee, or Azmatullah Omarzai, fearless opener in an Afghanistan side with an array of waspish bowlers. And if this was a final World Cup outing for Kohli and Rohit Sharma, the pair at least signed off with individual assertions of their ODI greatness, if not the silverware.
The bad
The parameters of a “good game” are often a bit too exacting but, even still, close contests were in short supply. Perhaps the global reduction in bilateral ODI cricket during the intervening years was a factor, Twenty20-grooved players losing heart a little too easily despite the far broader canvas of 50 overs.
It took some 26 matches for the first munching of fingernails, South Africa sneaking home against Pakistan by one wicket in Chennai. But that result also underlined concerns about the tournament’s structure, with the semi-final spots at this juncture appearing – and ultimately proving to be – settled with 19 group games still to play and lots of ifs, buts and maybes thereafter.
Afghanistan did briefly threaten to shake things up here – halted by Maxwell’s cramped-up miracle of Mumbai – and the all-plays-all format is not without merit. But even lacking quarter-finals – knockout ODI cricket is by far the most compelling, folks – the mooted switch to 14 teams and two groups in 2027 should hopefully produce more jeopardy.
This being 2023, the discourse turned a bit sour at times, not least during India’s semi-final victory over New Zealand. The Daily Mail had revealed concerns from the International Cricket Council’s pitch consultant, Andy Atkinson, of possible home interference in the preparation of the Wankhede Stadium’s surface. And yet what appeared a valid story – Atkinson quoted in a leaked email, no less – was met with an avalanche of Indian indignation and talk of “propaganda”. Sunil Gavaskar called reporters “morons”.
Travelling supporters were thin on the ground, with fixtures not announced until 100 days before the start and, following some further tweaks to the schedule, tickets not for sale until six weeks out. After a sparse start, an increasingly engaged Indian public delivered some electric atmospheres, with Kolkata’s iconic Eden Gardens a personal favourite. But, with a bit more notice, the pockets of “away” shirts might have been greater (for all but Pakistan’s followers, of course, who were denied visas).
And even without swathes of visitors, the carbon footprint of a tournament that required teams to jet back and forth across India was manifestly vast. At least the ICC spared us lofty claims to the contrary – unlike its counterparts Fifa in Qatar a year earlier – even if the governing body’s ongoing partnership with Aramco told its own story.
The ugly
And so to England, who can claim a moral victory of sorts by taking up an entire category here. And they were pretty ugly, rocking up with designs on being there at the end of the party, only to end up in a puddle of their own piddle well before midnight.
Jos Buttler insisted his reigning champions had no intention of defending anything. And after defeats in six of their first seven matches, it was very much mission accomplished for a team that had climbed the mountain in 2019, barely played in between, and were now tumbling down the other side.
Alarms rang before departure after mixed messaging about the provisional squad – chiefly Harry Brook’s absence, before making the cut. Ben Stokes was also out of retirement, only to suffer a hip injury upon arrival in India. The uncertainty bled into the tactics and by their fourth fixture – a shellacking by South Africa in Mumbai, when Buttler boiled his men by bowling first in a furnace – England had used all 15 in the squad.
They had arrived to prepare later than the likes of Australia and New Zealand and their bowlers – already the weaker suit – duly struggled to locate the right lengths until it was too late. The batting also suffered a collective loss of form and identity, summed up by Buttler averaging 15 and, like his old Test avatar, forever uncertain whether to stick or twist.
At the end, face only mildly saved by two late wins and Champions Trophy qualification, the team director, Rob Key, accepted that complacency on his part had set in; a belief things would be all right on the night, that old habits would kick in after prioritising the Bazballing Test resurgence and T20 World Cups during the intervening years.
Key was shielding Buttler and head coach Matthew Mott – the latter’s messaging queried by Eoin Morgan from the sidelines – and it felt a card that could be played only once. With a daunting Test tour of India starting in January, possibly too soon also.
Lessons learned
For England it was a reminder that the world had moved on from 2019; for India it was that being the best team until the final counts for little. As for the tournament as a whole – its length unlikely to change but its cricket still compelling – it remains to be seen whether this was a timely flexing of the muscles by the ODI format, or a twitching of the corpse as the red weed of T20 engulfs the landscape.
