Professor Jeremy Coney takes his pitch-analysis class © AFP

There are different ways to do a pitch report. Jeremy Coney, the former New Zealand captain, has probably covered the entire range. He’s attached a ball to a string to exorcise it, recited a poem to describe it, and once, late last year, almost did a breast stroke on land while knocking his knuckles on the pitch. Coney, who during his playing days was hailed for his ability to read pitches, loves analysing the 22 yards. On the eve of every game one can see him scrutinising the surface, tapping on it, inspecting the grass, feeling the clay … It’s almost as if he was a horticulturist on some scientific mission.

So what does Coney look for during his investigations? “I call it reading the entrails,” he says enthusiastically when asked about this whole business. “I ask myself questions as I go along. Is there grass? Is it distributed evenly? How is it shared around? Are there gaps? What sort of grass is it? Are they new young plants? Are they stressed because of lack of water? All this will tell me whether the pitch is going to be quicker at the start, or whether the ball will skid on from the grass (which is always the fastest). If it’s an old plant, the ball will hit the crown and start to do some strange things. If there is dirt there is automatically more friction. So if there are bald patches, I will know that this pitch is going to be variable and will only get worse from that point.”

Once he’s done with the top surface, Coney likes to go a bit deeper. He makes sure he is always around when the television crew dig up the area behind the stumps, to immerse the stumps microphones. “It gives me an idea of the root structure,” he continues, “whether the roots go right down to the ground to hold the structure. It tells me how hard the surface below is and how much moisture is there.”

As if to give it a class-room atmosphere, Coney picks up his pen and quickly sketches the profile of an ideal pitch. “Normally there is grass on top and a depth of hard crust below, that’s of course if it’s rolled properly. Beneath it, you would like to have a cheesy layer and if you finger through it, it’s like a trampoline. That helps the bounce. You can’t have a pitch that is hard throughout its profile, you need moisture underneath because it will keep the roots nourished. The roots can suck the water up and last longer as a result. The problem with the pitches in the West Indies is that you normally have grass growing beside it, not on it.”

He then ventures into a long geological lecture about clay quality, followed by an explanation of the physics of water-soil interaction. Then there is a small matter of studying the weather forecasts, a trifle of analysing the past statistics on this ground, and the usual routine of speaking to seasoned observers. Coney can discuss pitches all day and all night. But does he always get it right? “If I got it right always I wouldn’t be coming back,” he says with a grin. “I have a good track record but the beauty is that even after all the analysis, you may still get it wrong.”

	Rangy Nanan chose a profession that merited little attention in the era of raw pace © Siddhartha Vaidyanathan

"For every fast bowler that played for West Indies between 1976 and 1986, there was a spinner whose ambitions of playing international were finished." Elquemedo Willett would know. One who represented West Indies in five Tests between 1973 and 1975, Willett's career came to a premature halt mainly because of West Indies' focus on pace, pace and nothing but pace. Willett's not complaining; in fact he doffs his hat to the great fast bowlers who made West Indies an invincible force. But maybe it's worth sparing a thought for an entire breed who took up, in Willett's words, a "useless profession".

The list of spinners who played only a handful of games for West Indies, in that era, is endless. Raphick Jumadeen (12 Tests), Inshan Ali (12), Imtiaz Ali (1), Derick Parry (12), Albert Padmore (2), Clyde Butts, Willett, Rangy Nanan

Nanan's case is instructive. A prolific domestic wicket-taker, he got his only chance when West Indies toured Pakistan in 1980-81. He had a good time in the tour games - including snapping up 6 for 48 in an innings against the Governer's XI at Sahiwal – and made his debut on a shirt-front at Faisalabad. On a surface, which Dennis Lillie once termed as a bowler’s "graveyard", he returned impressive match figures of 4 for 91. "It wasn't all about performance," he says reflecting on those times. "We needed to understand that, irrespective of how we did, there was always a chance of not playing in the next game. That was how good the fast bowlers were. It was unfortunate. Had I played fifteen years earlier or fifteen years later, things would have been different."

When he ended his first-class career he was the all-time leading wicket-taker in the Shell Shield, the premier domestic competition. Nanan believes that the ill-effects of West Indies' all-pace policy is being felt now. "You don't see too many good spinners in the Caribbean today because the earlier generation wasn't motivated enough. Not too many took up spin in the '80s and '90s because they thought they would not get a chance."

The meeting with Nanan reminded me of an encounter I'd had with Rajinder Goel a few months back. Goel's path was at least blocked by other spinners. In Nanan's case there was just no hope. He chose a profession that merited little attention in the land.

	John Bowry finds time to narrate the tale © Siddhartha Vaidyanathan

It has been more than 36 years but John Bowry remembers the day vividly. He was playing for St Kitts in the 1969-70 Leeward Islands tournament in Antigua when he came against a fella called Viv Richards. Read on for an interesting anecdote:

"It was his first tournament and when we reached in Antigua, we were told he was going to kill us. Antigua won the toss and elected to bat. We didn't breach with the new ball and my captain called on me to bowl. In the first over I dismissed a batsman by the name Pat Martin and Richards came in and on my second ball to him he was caught bat-pad at leg slip. I bowled a straighter one and it bounced. He pushed forward and it came off his glove and the guy at leg-slip took it.

"He stood up as if he had not played the ball, but in my opinion he had played and in the umpires opinion he played it and the umpire raised his finger. He did not walk off immediately and the crowd charged into the ground because in that season he was in the most terrific form and a big favourite there; we all had to run off.

"After about an hour's delay, they decided to allow him to come back. That time I felt, it was bad for cricket because the umpire had given you out; he should have walked; he stood his ground and that provoked the crowd. And, I was told by a broadcaster that his father beat him the same night saying that when the umpire gave him out he should have walked"

Stoppages in play aren’t uncommon and this series has had its fair share. There’s been rain, plenty of it, bad light and good light – play was bizarrely not started because the umpires “expected” the rains to come. An umpiring botch up played it’s part in a 15-minute stoppage – when Ganga caught and everyone was caught napping – and in a tribute to Sachin Tendulkar, there’ve been sight-screen hassles.

At 5pm on the fourth day, a fire alarm stopped play. For nearly five minutes, the umpires and the players watched bemused as the sirens went off in various corners. Kumble was getting ready to bowl but there was no way Rudi Koertzen was going to allow proceedings to start. The alarm went off yesterday as well, just that it happened during the lunch break and nobody seemed to take it too seriously. The best part about the whole episode was that nobody appeared to want to find out about the fire, and if at all there was any, but instead focused on turning the "damn thing" off. If only there had been a real fire, it would have been a classic case of Nero playing cricket when Rome burnt.

Life in the press box, these days at least, is making heads spin. With television sets placed on the sides, one needs to turn either way see what went on. Now if you miss any portion of the action and quickly turn to the TV screen, all you're likely to see is World Cup football. So when I missed a loud appeal for lbw, against Mahendra Singh Dhoni, and quickly turned left, all I see is David Beckham fumbling on a long-range pass. Was the ball pitched in line? Was it hitting outside off? Was it too high? Was it missing leg? All I know is that it was missing leg, only that the leg was Beckham's bumbling right foot.

	Edgar Gilbert © Siddhartha Vaidyanathan

Edgar Gilbert had to wait 73 years and eight days before he could actually go to a ground to watch a Test match. Gilbert, a former first-class cricketer, was one of many who flocked to Warner Park yesterday, to watch the first day of Test cricket at the world's youngest venue. Some need to wait several years to play Test cricket, others spend a lifetime just waiting to watch it.

It was no doubt an emotional moment. Gilbert, who played for St Kitts and the Combined Islands in the '60s, was reputed to have been a more-than-useful allrounder. He recalls the days when there was no television, when radio and newspapers were his only windows to the cricketing world. Gilbert speaks about how difficult it was to motivate oneself without actually getting to watch - "There was no-one to model yourself on, no-one to get inspired by." The only cricket he saw when he grew up was the tournament played between communities, and the first first-class match he ever saw was the one he played in.

Unlike a few others from St Kitts, who traveled to other islands to watch Test match cricket, Gilbert never got the chance. Fours years ago, he fell victim to a serious diabetes problem, one which forced both his legs to be amputated. Sitting on his wheelchair, he gets teary-eyed as he talks about his first experience of a Test. He's most satisfied with the amount of youngsters that have come to watch the game. "I have seen many talented youngsters take up basketball once they leave school. Now that international cricket has come to St Kitts, I hope there is a shift in attitude." St Kitts has never produced an international cricketer but Gilbert firmly believes that it may not be too long before the floodgates are opened.

	Andy Atkinson is back and the Indians know him well © Siddhartha Vaidyanathan

The imposing figure of Andy Atkinson seems to be all over Warner Park. Sometimes he's gardening the pitch, sometimes tending to the outfield, sometimes instructing the ground staff, sometimes trying to do all of these. The bulk is unmistakable, the enthusiasm admirable. Today, when a bout of showers interrupted preparations, he ensured that the covers were completely in place, got drenched in the process and only then left. Hardly a few seconds after the showers stopped, he was behind the wheel of the ‘super-sopper’, spinning away at various angles.

India have seen him earlier, most prominently when they went to Pakistan in 2003-04. He was accused, by Inzamam-ul-Haq, of preparing pitches that didn't favour his bowlers. The battle got so intense that, when Inzamam accused him of shaving off the grass on the pitch, Atkinson hit back by shaving off his moustache, cheekily adding, "Inzy asked me to shave it off".

A couple of days before the game, the grass on the pitch might have fooled everyone. Atkinson, though, was clean shaven and he lived up to his previous record by shaving off most of the green when match eve arrived.

	Just a few feet from the club ground lies Sir Frank Worrell's childhood home © Siddhartha Vaidyanathan

Nestled amid residential areas, just on the outskirts of Bridgetown, is the Empire Cricket Club. One look at the alumni list and you know why it’s universally regarded as the greatest club ever.

Empire Club might not even have existed had Herman Griffith, the former West Indian fast bowler, not been turned down by Spartan, the rival body. Griffith despite repeated attempts was spurned by Spartan, owing to the strict class structure that existed that the time. He then decided to form his own club. Curiously enough, it was formed on May 24, 1914 (Empire Day) and got its name as a result.

Most of the members stayed close by – Sir Frank Worrell grew up in a house that overlooks the club ground – and there was a slant towards good manners and behaviour. A sign on one of the walls – “No obscene language” - sums up this attitude. More than 92 years on, the club can look back proudly at its rich legacy. It’s probably the only club in the world to have three knighted members as alumni and would be tough to beat in the fast bowling stakes as well. An attempt to pick an all-time XI throws up a formidable side.

Opening the batting would be Sir Conrad Hunte, whose array of strokeplay and power of concentration helped make the West Indian side of the early 1960s one of the most complete of all time. Walking out to open with him would probably be Carlisle Best, who thrilled with his true calypso style of cricket. Best hit the public eye in 1976 when, as a schoolboy, he scored more than 800 runs in the Association's Division II, and was selected for Barbados. His first scoring shot, in a Test, was a hooked six off Ian Botham and he had a few moments in the fine West Indian middle order of the late ‘80s.

The three to follow were plain awesome.

In Sir Everton Weekes at No.3, Seymour Nurse at No.4 and Sir Frank Worrell at No.5 you probably have one of the greatest middle orders of all time. At No.6, occupying the allrounder’s slot would be EAV Williams, or Foffie to most. Williams’s international career was limited to only four Tests, finishing with nine wickets, but he’s most remembered for a whirlwind innings in the Bridgetown Test against England in 1948. He struck 28 from the first six balls he received - six, six, four and four off Jim Laker, then two more fours off Jack Ikin- on his way to reaching West Indies' fastest Test 50 in just 30 minutes. Primarily, though, he was a fast bowler and was known to have been a terror in his heyday.

Keeping wicket would be Clairmonte Depeiaza. Safe with the gloves and more than useful with the bat – his 347-run partnership with Denis Atkinson remains a Test record for the seventh wicket – he would provide the solidity if the top order were to crumble. For spin, there’s Albert Padmore, an offspinner who was unlucky to have played when the West Indies’ mantra shifted to pace, pace and only pace.

Yet, he might not even be needed with the three fast men capable of destroying any line-up. Charlie Griffith would undoubtedly take the new ball with Emmanuel “Manny” Martindale, most remembered for devastating England on the 1933 tour. Joining them, most fittingly, would be Herman Griffith, founder of the club and accurate fast bowler of the ‘30s. Along with Learie Constantine and Martindale, Griffith was one of the early torch-bearers of the West Indian fast bowling legacy.

I made the mistake of asking Charlie Griffith, member and former president, if this was the best club side ever. “Not best,” growled Charlie, “but greatest”.

	Soaking up the sun,sand and cricket in Barbados © Siddhartha Vaidyanathan

With an eight-days gap between the second and third Tests, I decided to take a diversion and pop into Barbados. Unlike any of the other islands we’ve visited, Barbados seemed to have an English feel about it. The Grantley Adams International Airport is a truly sleek construction, unlike the miniature settings in the other cities, and one could immediately sense the opulence floating through the country. The conversion rate tells you a story (1 USD is equivalent to 2 Bajan dollars). Needless to say, considering that the country primarily depends on tourism, it’s a beauty.

Strangely, this is the first island where one can feel the interest in cricket. In the other islands one saw a few stray instances of park/street/beach cricket – maybe it’s all because of my faulty eyes - but the passion wasn’t palpable. The ongoing football World Cup has obviously drawn a few away but the Bajans, it appears, still have time for the cricket. Club games abound in weekends and it’s pleasantly surprising to see around 50-100 spectators at a game between two top teams. As Ryan Hinds, playing for Empire Club, clobbered the trundling medium-pacers to different corners of the Banks Brewery ground, several enthusiasts gulped their beers and talked their cricket.

Talking cricket in the Caribbean has its own charm. One often gets into an endless conversation that shifts from topic to topic and soon realises the deep understanding of the game that the average West Indian fan possesses. A batsman’s technique is often scrutinised till its last detail and comparisons are often made with names from the past. As time flies, with the alcohol intake gradually increasing, one is likely to witness raucous arguments about who was greater than who and similar such. Hinds, meanwhile, continues to pound the Banks club bowling to pulp.

	Darren Sammy, the only international cricketer from St Lucia © Siddhartha Vaidyanathan

It must be special to be chosen one among 160,000. Darren Sammy, the only international cricketer from St Lucia, knows the feeling. Darren played his first game in the previous edition of the Champions Trophy (which West Indies memorably won) and soon realised the enormity of his achievement. “There were more than a thousand people in the airport when I returned,” he beams, “and I realised how much it meant to the people.”

It was a triumph of sorts. His father was just 19 years old when Darren was born (his mother was staggeringly just 15) and didn’t have a steady source of income. Even later, when he worked in banana plantations, there was no guarantee of a rich crop every year. Darren himself experienced several days of working in the fields – starting as early as 6am – and had to wait till 4pm to begin his cricket practice. Luckily for him, his parents didn’t compromise on his education, a fact that helped him to play cricket in school.

Having made it to the West Indies side, Darren could make a difference. He chose a novel way of repaying his gratitude by gifting his father with a mini-bus. Sammy senior drives the mini-bus and makes a living these days; the hard days on the field are a distant memory. Daren realises that he’s scaled a barrier, yet knows that there’s lot of work left to be done.

	Danny Byrne (top) and Peter Chismon engage in their favourite pastime © Siddhartha Vaidyanathan

What are two Englishmen doing in an India v West Indies Test? Watching, maybe. Peter Chismon and Danny Byrne are two globetrotting fans, who travel to various venues, irrespective of the sides playing. Both try their best to visit new venues – they were at Fatullah and Chittagong for the Australia series recently – and decided to watch the India Tests at St Lucia and St Kitts.

Chismon, a 64-year-old from Ipswich, who retired from his job of selling guns at West End a few years ago, concentrates on the game by scoring it. He makes sure he scores the game whenever he visits a venue for the first time and proudly shows his notepad where he scored the recent Australia-Bangladesh Test at Chittagong. Jason Gillespie, whose double-hundred in that match sent heads spinning in various directions, was kind enough to autograph it. That tour to Bangladesh also meant that Chismon had now watched cricket in all Test playing nations.

Both love to visit the stadium a day before the game, get good seats, chat with the groundsmen about the pitch and mix around with the players. Having travelled the world for nearly ten years, they are recognised by a few players as well.

With both planning their tours well in advance, they’ve been often done in by itinerary hassles. During Pakistan’s visit to India in 2005, they’d initially booked tickets for Ahmedabad, the initial proposed venue for the first Test, but were left high and dry after the game was shifted to Mohali.

Byrne speaks about a plan to publish an annual later this year, in conjunction with his fellow itinerant, John Woods, an Irishman who spent 18 months touring the world to bring out a guide to every Test ground in the world.

The strap tells you the sort of book it promises to be – by supporters for supporters world wide - and Byrne is set to write two articles on the Tests at St Lucia and St Kitts. There is also a reference to CLR James’s famous books in the slug, one which says the book is ‘written from beyond the boundary’. In this case, literally.

	Mahendra Singh Dhoni took to dominoes easily © Brian Camacho

The Mohammad Kaif press conference, at the end of the second day's play, had a special visitor. Sitting among the journalists was a certain Dhoni, observing the questions being asked and Kaif's responses to them. He couldn't hold himself back from smirking at a couple of questions and finally, when he realised he had to go, put his hand up and shouted out (in Hindi): "How do you plan to celebrate this century?".

Kaif treated it like any other question, though, and patted it back calmly: "There are still three days to go, we need to make sure we win this Test. We will think of celebrating after that." Dhoni had his fill and he soon walked off, asking Kaif to join the rest of the boys at the beach when he had finished.

A few days back, in a sponsored party where both teams were invited, Dhoni decided to take the lead and try out a game of dominoes. Not only did he learn the rules quickly, but also managed to pick up a few nuances by observing closely. Within a few minutes, he was on his way, partnering Kaif in a victorious debut campaign. Given a choice between holding back and having a go, there's normally only one route Dhoni will choose.

Around 1:50pm local time, despite no real action happening on the field, a loud cheer went out in the stands. The Soca Warriors from Trinidad & Tobago had managed an honourable draw against Sweden in their World Cup opener at Dortmund. Brian Lara appeared to get the message, his face lighting up with a spontaneous smile. An announcement was made after a few minutes and the excitement, especially among the Trinidad boys, was palpable. Lara exchanged a high five with Dwayne Bravo in the slips while Daren Ganga and Ramnaresh Sarwan began to beam as well.

	Labon Kenneth Blackburn Leeweltine Buckonon Benjamin, or Gravy to the cricketing world © Siddhartha Vaidyanathan

Not only did the last five days produce great cricket but, personally at least, introduced one to the joys of the Antigua Recreation Ground, or ARG to most. When a stadium's farewell assumes as much importance as a cricketer's, you know that there must be a special allure that draws in people.

The fact that it's centrally located is vital, with several people passing by the ground daily, even if there is no match going on. Viv Richards's association with the ground started even before he began playing. With the Antigua Grammar School, where he studied, being close by, and the local prison, where his father worked, adjoining the ground, Richards was bound to be an ARG regular. Incidentally, during the early years of the ground, the entire ground staff comprised inmates of the adjacent prison.

The Rec, or 'pasture' to the old timers, also attracts through its
characters. One of the most famous characters at ARG is Labon Kenneth
Blackburn Leeweltine Buckonon Benjamin, or Gravy to the cricketing world. Since 1988 to 2000, he entertained the crowd through his dancing and theatrics. While announcing his retirement in 2000, he walked around the stadium in a wedding gown, making the occasion one to remember.

"Everybody came to the edge of the stands to watch," he recalls, "because it was the end of Gravy's career." Gravy has continued to attend Test matches, taking charge of his stall near the Viv Richards Stand, but has ceased to be the mass entertainer that he once was. As you enter the ground, the first banner you are likely to see involves Gravy. "Will Gravy be back for the World Cup?" it asks. Keep your fingers crossed for that one.

	Joseph Warner, the gigantic gatekeeper at the ARG © Siddhartha Vaidyanathan

There's Joseph Warner, the gigantic gatekeeper, who's been working at the ground for the last 23 years. He considers the ground special because of the "carnival like atmosphere" and the "fantastic music" that's played. Warner decided that the Test match against India would be his last - "I am retiring from Test cricket. I will go along with the ARG."

And then there's Chickie, the chief DJ, at the party stand. He has a reputation as an impresario and the "Chickie Posse" has an ardent following. Operating from the West Indies Oil Co. grandstand, he makes sure that there's never a dull moment when cricket isn't taking place. The music usually plays before play, at the fall of a wicket, at the signal of a boundary, through each adjournment and into the late evening.

Chickie knows his cricket. He developed an interest for the game at the Antigua Grammar School, where Richards studied as well. When Richards made his never-to-be-forgotten 56-ball hundred, Chickie played the famous "Captain, the Ship is Sinking" number, taking a dig at David Gower. Colin Cumberbatch, the veteran photo-journalist who's lived in Antigua for the last 25 years talks about Chickie's craft: "He knows his cricket. He always makes sure that the speakers are at an elevation, so that the breeze, that usually blows from only one side, takes the music away from the field of play. Because of this, the players don't get annoyed by the music. When an over is about to start, Chickie knows how to fade the music down. He will do it without affecting the listener, and without affecting the players."

Over the years, characters like Mayfield and Pepe have regaled the
audiences and it's understandable why the locals feel so close to the ARG. The Vivian
Richards Stadium may develop it's own allure, but as Andy Roberts, one of Antigua's mot famous sons puts it, "They don't make them like the Rec anymore".

Having absorbed the reggae and soca music all day long in the stadium, it came as a pleasant shock, late in the night, to see a group of locals gathered at Heritage Key, the main city centre, swinging to the strains of Bhangra.

It wouldn't have been surprising in Trinidad, which has a large East Indian community, but to see Antiguans enjoy Mundiya to bach ke rahin was a revelation. It was odd to see them 'wining' – a form more focused on hip gyrations - as opposed to following the traditional Punjabi steps. You could even see them mouthing some of the lyrics, though, what they meant was pretty much lost on them.

All this, of course, was taking place in a promotional event for the 2007 cricket World Cup. The fashion shows and dance performances were organised by Team 2K7, from the Ministry of Tourism in Antigua and Barbuda. It was an attempt to gauge the response such carnivals will elicit, to plan ahead for big events next year.

Jeffrey Ettienne, the head of the fashion show troupe, said he picked up the Punjabi album on one of his tours in England. "It's strange, its original, it's different too… it's a nice beat.”

Steve Camacho ©Cricinfo Ltd

It was interesting to see Steve Camacho and Andy Roberts chat at the Antigua Recreation Ground, considering that the end of one career heralded the beginning of another. Camacho, the former West Indies opener, toured England in 1973 and in the second game of the tour, against Hampshire, came up against a fiery young Roberts.

Camacho, who batted in spectacles, went to hook a short ball and was hit in the face. He underwent an operation for a depressed fracture of the cheek and returned home without taking further part in the series. Roberts made his Test debut one year later, and established himself as one of the best bowlers within the next couple of years.

"It's something we've put behind us," says Camacho recalling the incident. "You can't look to take it personally, it's cricket and we need to acknowledge that such incidents happen." After recovering from injury, Camacho played a few seasons of first-class cricket but soon went on to become a pioneer in West Indian cricket administration. He was the West Indian board's first full-time employee and served as secretary, chief executive officer, and Test selector.

As CEO he oversaw the rise of the golden team of the '80s and, as selector, was directly involved in picking out talent for the future. "I remember watching Malcolm Marshall at the Under-19 level, where he was mainly a batsman who used to run in from five paces and bowl fast. I could see that here was a potential quick bowler. I was glad that I was a selector when Marshall made it to the West Indian side."

As manager of a near-invincible side on five tours, Camacho witnessed several historic moments; yet the moment that would rankle most is the World Cup final in 1983, when they were upstaged by India. "It was just a disaster, I can still remember tears in the dressing-room. Marshall was one of those who was particularly emotional because he had missed the World Cup final in 1979, when we won. He was the only one of the greats to have missed out on a World Cup medal."

Curtly Ambrose and Richie Richardson: part of Big Bad Dread and the Baldhead © Cricinfo Ltd

It was a sight to watch Curtly Ambrose, that archetypal destroyer, and Richie Richardson, that marauding hookmeister, strum gentle reggae tunes and regale an audience. Both are part of The Big Bad Dread and the Baldhead, whose latest performance was at Spliff, an outdoor bar close to the ARG.

Curtly was on bass guitar, Richie was on rhythm. For the early part of the show, Curtly was on the right extreme and Richie was on the left, while Bankers, the lead singer, and Jason, the drummer, orchestrated the show. Soon, with television cameramen and other mediapersons showering them with all the spotlight, both decided to mingle with the crowd.

In the crowd was Bridgette, Curtly's wife, and Aileen, Richie's wife. Bridgette says they've been playing seriously since 2002, adding that Curtly used to fool around with the guitar even during his playing days. Bridgette met Ambrose through her cousin – Winston Benjamin, one in a long line of Antiguans who bowled fast. Curtly's favourite band, Bridgette reveals, is Culture, a reggae band that was a part of the vibrant, politically-charged Jamaican reggae scene in the late '70s.

Bankers decided to have some fun by taking off from a reggae number, starting an impromptu rendition of Hotel California. Tanya, Curtly's daughter, isn't surprised – "they do this all the time".

Curtly and Richie weren't the only Test cricketers there. In the crowd is Patterson Thompson, the promising fast bowler who played only two Tests. Named after two deadly fast bowlers – Patrick Patterson and Jeff Thompson – he had a shocker of a debut against New Zealand at Barbados, when he bowled as many as 26 no-balls. In the partying stakes, though, with Curtly and Richie setting the tone, he was quite unstoppable.

As our taxi passes by All Saints Comprehensive School, our driver informs us of its fast-bowling legacy. Four Tests cricketers have emerged from All Saints – Eldine Baptiste, Winston Benjamin, Curtly Ambrose and Kenneth Benjamin. Between them you have 2543 first-class wickets and a tremendous amount of firepower. Another All Saints fast bowler, Anthony Merrick played for West Indies A. Yet, it isn't a school that's produced only fast bowlers. Ridley Jacobs, the wicketkeeper-batsman who even captained West Indies in two Tests, is also an alumni. Not for nothing is the school's motto, 'From possibility to realisation'.

Richie Richardson laments the absence of spectators on the opening day of the Antigua Test. He remembers how he cherished playing at the ARG (Antigua Recreation Ground), his home ground, and how the atmosphere would often get electric. "There used to be people falling off trees."

One can visualise the setting. The ARG is small and quite cute with certain low-lying stands allowing for the breeze to gush through. The Chickie stand and the Party stand set the rhythm for the crowd, with calypso and soca (an acronym for soul calypso) playing between overs.

Sadly, only around thousand people landed up to watch the first day. Lara felt that it was a result of West Indies' poor performances, yet was confident that they "could win the crowds back". The weekend promises better fare. For the trees to be occupied, though, we may require a thriller.

Harbhajan Singh tries his hand at a game of Warri © Siddhartha Vaidyanathan

Harbhajan Singh wracks his brains over a game of Warri, a pastime that the locals introduce him to. Warri is played in India as well – it's known as Pallanguzhi in Tamil – but, going by the mystified looks, none of the Indians seemed to have heard of it.

If you have mastered Warri, you earn the title of "professor". One such professor decided to give Harbhajan a lesson, teaching him the intricacies of the game. A Warri board comprises twelve large pockets, into which 48 beads are filled equally. The player who begins empties one of the pits that belongs to him and distributes the seeds - one for each pit in a clockwise direction. He continues the process by emptying the pit next to where he ends the first set of seeds. He carries on the process until the end, when if he finds more than one empty pit, he gives up the turn to the other player. If he finds one empty pit next to the pit where he ended, then he captures all the seeds gathered on the right side of the empty pit. The player who captures the most seeds ends up the winner.

Quick counting of the beads and judgement of the number of pockets to be filled requires one to be very attentive. It also requires some rapid mental calculations. Harbhajan does well, plays a few smart moves and thrills "professor" with his learning curve. Inevitably he loses, but the margin (25 to 23) tells you how close it got. "Professor" challenges him for one more round. Harbhajan, though, has a valid excuse: "I need to go out to bat, wickets are falling quickly."