In 1977 Test Cricket purists were praying hard for the umpire to stick his finger up when the Australian Cricket Board led by Robert Parish sought an injunction under the Trade Practices Act to stop the late Kerry Packer’s World Series Cricket Pty Ltd from continuing with this Limited Overs sacrilege. Three decades later, one day cricket has become a permanent fixture. Meanwhile, the ACB litigation only rates a minor mention in undergraduate law textbooks.

I have to admit that my interest in kirkit (as my very Indian mum calls it) lasts about as long as the latest Billy Birmingham CD. Up until around 1am this morning, I felt much the same way about this Twenty20 stuff as Gideon Haigh felt when he wrote his column published in today’s The Australian. I mean, surely the notion of having a decent game of cricket while giving each batting side 20 overs is the stuff you’d more likely see in the under-12’s inter-school competition than in international first class cricket.

But early this morning I’d well and truly changed my mind. Not even the incessant coughing of a newly-acquired Sydney flu (now I know how the horses must feel!) could stop me from being glued to the idiotbox watching India and Pakistan battle each other in the Twenty20 final in South Africa.

This was a game whose result simply couldn’t be predicted until some overweight South Indian lady in the sari started singing. The game had more 6’s than Helen Clarke on an episode of The Chaser. For me it felt fabulous watching an international strike bowler with a name like Irfan. Geoff Lawson’s Pakistanis (among them a chap named … wait for it … Yasir Arafat!) batted valiantly.

Twenty20 cricket has combined a host of features from other spectator sports – the loud pop music of basketball, batsmen and coach sitting on the sideline benches (as opposed to walking to and from the dressing room) as in soccer, and breaking open the bubbly at to celebrate victory as in the Grand Prix. There were even chicks dancing on small stages like cheersquads , though they were probably just trying to impress Bollywood heartthrob Shahrukh Khan who made a guest appearance. And I never thought I’d see the cricketers engaging in a rugby-like scrum.

By over number 19, Pakistan were chasing only 17 from 8 balls. Then some dude called Umar Gul was bowled for a duck. His replacement then hit a boundary. The first delivery of the final over was a wide. Then Pakistan’s Misbah hit a six. The fat lady waited until the 3rd last delivery before singing loudly together with thousands of Indian fans in the Johannesburg stadium as Misbah was caught out after hitting 43 runs off 38 balls. India won by a mere 5 runs. At the presentations, Shoaib Malik thanked “Pakistan and people across the Muslim world”. Why bring religion into it? As if Muslim cricket fans would only support Pakistan. A rather silly presumption, especially given that India has a bigger Muslim population than Pakistan and two of its players (Irfan and Yusuf Pathan) are the sons of a muezzin (the mosque official who chants the call-to-prayer five times a day). Sadly, Ritchie Benaud wasn’t in the Central Missio … whoops … Commentary Position. Indeed, none of the Pakistani and Indian commentators were wearing any daggy creme, ivory or beige blazers. I’m just waiting to hear what Billy Birmingham will do with their names. I can’t wait to see the Indians play here this summer. Will they out-do the Aussies? Or will we go down to Zimbabwe again? Who knows? If this Twenty20 final is anything to go by, we won’t know until the fat lady clears her throat!