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Kevin O'Brien Chang

LET'S GET things in perspective. Jamaica has not suffered a Haitian-style coup. There have been no terrorist bombings here. My loved ones - knock wood - are blessedly healthy. Furthermore grown-ups don't obsess about matters over which they have no control. And it's only a game.

But damn it, 47 all out still hurts! And even calm reason can't dispel the gnawing gloom. Of course it's my father's fault. It was he who brought my pregnant mother to cricket in the hope I would like the game. And who came into my room to follow West Indies in Australia radio commentary at three in the morning after my mother kicked him out to get some sleep. When I fell asleep in class a teacher sent a note asking him to stop listening to cricket so late. I'm not sure if he complied. But I do remember Australia making 339 for 9 while chasing 359.

That this may be my only concrete memory of 1969 highlights one of cricket's attractions. For while football is a quickly forgotten 90 minutes, a five-day Test drama can be etched on the mind forever. People still discuss Brisbane in 1960, Adelaide in 1993, and Barbados in 1999. And who can name a football score from those years?

DESPITE THE PRESENT AGONY

In time they will speak too of Sabina in 2004, and ­ despite the present agony ­ Sunday's witnesses will proudly say 'I was there'. Time lends a warm glow to even once painful memories. What's important really is to have something to reminisce about.

One-dayers draw the big crowds these days. Yet it's the Tests we remember, proving that there's more to life than instant gratification. Rational income maximisation results in less Tests and more one-dayers each year. Meaning more money and action, but less memories - a true devil's bargain.

Cricket revolves around internationals. While except for the every four years World Cup, soccer is primarily a club game and so are American sports. When Manchester United slumps, it buys new players. When a Dallas Cowboy gets a bad attitude, he's traded. When Chicago started losing, Bulls fans here became Lakers fans. And though often exciting, who cares who wins the Super Bowl?

But West Indies cricketers are born and bred. Their personality clashes have to be resolved, not shunted on. And win or lose they are our team. For Windians, it's for better or worse and till death do us part.

DEFINING SYMBOL

Cliché though it is, cricket remains the defining symbol of West Indian identity. So when we are humiliated as on Sunday, it's as if our very self-worth has been put into question. In a sense the question these days is not if we're going to win, but if cricket itself will survive the onslaught of American cable TV sports. Each win raises hope. But every shattering defeat arouses the fear that not only a game but a way of life is being lost forever.

Brian Lara has played lead role in this drama. I've never met him. But my impression is of a probably decent guy who at 24 in the space of a month achieved fame and riches beyond his wildest dreams. Not surprisingly, it seemed to go to his head. And being by far the richest West Indian cricketer ever likely divided him from poorer colleagues and made older heads jealous.

At the same time circumstances thrust him into a situation few if any other athletes have faced. For many have striven to make their country proud, but who else has been charged by fate with the task of literally keeping alive a sport which is the lifeblood of his people? Lara took time to grow into a role which he definitely was not prepared for. But of late he is at least saying the right things in public and hopefully doing them in private.

'WE'VE BOUNCED BACK BEFORE'

No other athlete so embodies the hopes and dreams of his people. When Lara strode to the crease on Sunday, the roar of the crowd brought to mind a Hollywood movie scene where a knight errant enters the arena to do battle for his people - "Champion Brian to save the day!" And the shocked silence when he got out reminded one of a cinema shot where the hero unexpectedly falls.

Lara failed this time. Yet so often in the past he has single-handedly saved his side. His 153 at Bridgetown was the greatest chasing knock ever, and the London Times called his 213 at Sabina 'arguably the most significant innings in the game's history'. I hope Sunday was just one of those days, and not a sign that the enormous emotional burden he's been under is wearing him down.

'We've bounced back before' die-hards say. But with Fidel Edwards out, there may be no coming back this series. Yet though England may well win this round, I have no doubt the West Indies will be soon be on top of the world again.

No other country has such a gifted line-up of under 25 batsmen as Chris Gayle, Ram Sarwan, Devon Smith, Dwayne Smith, Marlon Samuels, Ryan Hinds, Dwayne Bravo and Carlton Baugh. While Edwards, Tino Best, Jermaine Lawson, Jerome Taylor and Ravi Rampaul constitute the most promising set of fast bowlers any country has ever had at one time ­ and we haven't even mentioned Andrew Richardson, Dwight Washington and Junior Bennett. If all are allowed to mature injury-free, happy four-prong days will soon be here again.

Yet given our lackadaisical authorities, that's a big if. Official impatience and incompetence have caused nearly all our young pacers to suffer injury. So far none has been career ending. But that will change if our administrators continue to skylark. I hope Edwards' injury convinces the WICB to hire Dennis Lillee ­ the world's foremost fast bowling authority ­ to develop an injury prevention programme for our boys.

If this is done Windies fans can take heart. We may be whipped this year, and perhaps the next. But if we are patient, glory days lie ahead. Remember, it's always darkest before the dawn.