ICC Champions Trophy gets off to a bang as England light up the Oval to beat Bangladesh
From the ICC's pyrotechnics to the bouncing crowds, it was a lively affair at the Oval as England hit the ground running
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Your support makes all the difference.As the Champions Trophy got underway at the Oval, the first hour of play alone was enough to stir the cricketing soul.
Even before the match began, with the queue for the turnstiles stretching from one end of the ground almost round to the other, the volume inside the stadium was rising impressively. As Bangladesh, having been put in to bat, began to dominate after a slow start, the exuberance of their supporters became as thrilling as it was deafening. Even the streakiest boundary was cheered thunderously.
By contrast, the ICC's pyrotechnics seemed half-baked. Boundaries were greeted by a dozen flame throwers pooping into action with all the drama of a group of teenage boys lighting their own farts. At the fall of a wicket a handful of silvery fireworks soared pointlessly into the English summer sky; a clear triumph of hope over experience.
Drummers dressed as Beefeaters were lower-tech but had a higher impact. Meanwhile, the zooming drone-cam high above the field of play was a reminder that clever technology is best left to the specialists.
With Chris Woakes departing injured after two overs and Jake Ball expensive, the explosive Tamim Iqbal looked as if he might put England to the sword. But while his century caused rapturous delight among the fans in green, his dismissal in the 45th over led to a subdued finale for Bangladesh, who only just scraped over the 300 line.
Jason Roy had been given his captain's backing despite being in a rut of bad form. He promptly got himself out for a single run to a stroke which might kindly be described as unwise.
In Joe Root and Alex Hales though, England found a perfect partnership. The former was his usual mix of Goweresque grace and Fairbrotherish nurdling. Hales was utterly uncomplicated, his bat coming down again and again in an amiable parabola; a cricketing Poldark, scything the ball eventually to all corners of south London's most glorious field, until he himself was cut down in his prime by Sabbir Rahman's part-time leg-spin.
Once more the Tigers in the crowd roared, hope restored. But as Eoin Morgan powered England home, the Barmy Army cruelly pointed out that Bangladeshi fans were not singing any more. Still, they had got the Oval and the Champions Trophy off to a rollicking start. They might also have reminded cynical Englishmen and women that cricket - including the 50 over variety - is our national summer sport. What's more, we're pretty good at it.
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