India and Pakistan fans light up Old Trafford... this was everything a sporting occasion should be

SAM MORSHEAD: When the ground did eventually clear, and the 25,000 made their way into the night, you could still make out the rhythm of the drums echoing around Old Trafford

Scorecard | Ratings | Talking Points | Simon Hughes

They arrived as early as 7.30am and were still refusing to leave more than 13 hours later.

They came from Lahore and Mumbai, from Leicester, Leeds and Liverpool.

They draped themselves in national colours, and painted those very same flags onto their bare chests.

They arrived by car and tram, and by double-decker bus. One rode into town on the back of a white horse.

They played horns and drums and tambourines, and brought with them voices which carried crisp and long on the cold Manchester air.

They were loud; wow, were they loud. And they were everything sport should be.

To be at Old Trafford on Sunday was to be immersed in total cricket euphoria - a congregation of men, women and children utterly besotted by the game, and desperate to show off that love to the world.

^{An India fan flies his country's flag}

Much is said and written about the socio-political tensions between India and Pakistan, but there was little animosity to be found here. There were hugs and handshakes, and jokes and hearty debate, but nothing by way of aggression. Nothing by way of violence.

“This is sport, not war,” said one gentleman, attracting plenty of media attention outside the gates for his half-and-half shirt.

It is not war, but it feels very much like religion, perhaps cult worship, a spectator experience unlike anything English cricket has to offer - where the roar of the crowd matched and surpassed the volume of the pop music piped through the PA system and the coarse bars of the ‘Cricketarist’ were drowned out by human lungs, where the stands seemed to bounce to the sound of drumbeats and a casual single to fine leg was just cause for dancing and delirium.

If this is the picture the ECB have been painting in their minds when it comes to The Hundred, this match was the boon upon which to hang it (though quite how that competition reconciles a lack of BCCI cooperation is another tale altogether).

VISIT THE WORLD CUP PORTAL

The noise began before the birds had finished their morning chorus, thousands upon thousands flocking on Brian Statham Way, ignoring the falling raindrops; cheering and chanting; flooding the grey Manchester concrete with greens and blues and oranges. Two local cyclists found themselves trapped in the melee, and had to dismount to find a safe path through the crowd.

Touts were still demanding as much as £400 a ticket just 15 minutes before the start of play - this game could have sold out nearly 20 times over, remember, with 460,000 applications for tickets made during the ICC’s ballot - and those lucky enough to have a seat held onto their right of entry tightly as they squeezed through the gates.

Those decibel levels rose even higher as India’s players shuttled up and down the outfield in their warm-up in front of the giant Stand D - an extraordinary temporary structure made from 45km of scaffolding, which took 15 labourers 25 days to build.

The roar became a shriek at the sight of Sachin Tendulkar, Sky Sports’ pre-match broadcast was disrupted by professions of love for Nasser Hussain, and when Virat Kohli appeared at the top of the stairs ready to lead his team onto the field for the anthems, hundreds scrambled and clambered across the aisles for a photo opportunity.

^{Bollywood star Ranveer Singh at Old Trafford}

To reach the outside overspill press box, journalists had to wade through dozens of bodies, pressed tightly together, focused entirely on a single aim - to be seen, maybe even heard, by their idol. To catch his eye, to grab an imperfect picture. Stewards and Cricketeers were powerless to prevent it, some even joined in.

For a second, it was easy to throw a strop - not everyone has to barge their way into their place of work - but that would be ignoring the enormity of the occasion. It would be to mumble and grumble about inconvenience when one of the greatest sporting rivalries in the world is writing its latest chapter right in front of you. It would be to find yourself in the front row at the Royal Albert Hall only to stick your fingers in your ears.

This was a day for royalty - for Tendulkar and Imran Khan, and Bollywood’s Ranveer Singh. Wasim Akram was chased to his car by selfie-hunters, Virender Sehwag took cover in the maze of broadcast trucks, fans hustled between hero and icon ad infinitum, never seeming to tire.

That rush, a relentless rush. Go to a typical game in the UK, and the pace among supporters in the concourse is leisurely - cricket is a long day out, and there is no necessity to see every ball.  

Here, the urgency was palpable. Supporters, sometimes groups of supporters, trotted from the concession stands to their seats, balancing expensive beer, determined not to miss a beat.

And when the ground did eventually clear, and the 25,000 made their way into the night, you could still make out the rhythm of that beat echoing around Old Trafford.

Never mind what happened on the field, off it this was sport done the right way.

Our coverage of the ICC Cricket World Cup 2019 is brought to you in association with Cricket 19, the official video game of the Ashes. Order your copy now at Amazon.co.uk