From Oindrila Mukherjee, USA

For the expat, with victory comes the realization, stronger than at any other time, of being away © Getty Images

Trying desperately to find a live stream for the World Cup final on the Internet that won’t buffer at key moments turns out to be an impossible task. Buffer, wicket. Buffer, six. Buffer, India wins the World Cup. Yes, it’s true that I missed some of the most special seconds of the historic final. But thanks to the illegal streaming from just one or two sources, I was able to catch most of the tournament online for free, either on a small window or a full screen with blurry images. Squinting my eyes, cursing at the buffering video, sitting alone in my darkened room on a Saturday morning in Atlanta, Georgia, I watched India reach its ultimate goal.

In the hours leading up to the final, throughout the actual game, and of course immediately following it, I found myself almost involuntarily switching between Twitter and Facebook, sharing status updates and tweets with friends and strangers. It made me feel at once part of a community, and also incredibly alone, as news of celebrations poured in from India. Scenes at the Wankhede, traffic jams in Mumbai and Delhi, party at the India Gate, crowds of people on the streets of other cities, all through that night, parties I wasn’t invited to. So near, and yet so far. The exile’s crisis in the age of the Internet.

Away from the communal environs of university, it is hard even for a dedicated sports fan to keep track of cricket in the U.S. where the World Series is played between domestic baseball teams, and where college football and basketball drive fans to partisan frenzy. While English soccer fans who live here can follow their Premier League teams in select sports bars on Saturday mornings, it’s a lot harder for cricket fans from the subcontinent – let’s face it the only cricket fans here are from the subcontinent – to find a place where a cricket match is being broadcast. It’s usually upto desi communities to organise viewings, which then become hubs for communal socialising much like religious festivals.

This year, the World Cup was available for a decent fee to subscribers of Dish or Direct TV, both satellite cable providers. For those of us without satellite dishes, the only legitimate option was to go online and pay Willow TV for live streaming. And for those reluctant to dish out (no pun intended) the fee, let’s say for a student, there’s always the option of illegal streaming from a few sources.

Of course online streaming means putting up with frequent buffering that causes the video to freeze, often at crucial moments. Still, with higher Internet speeds these days, the buffering has improved in recent times, and watching matches streamed online is better than not watching them at all. So there you are, up at the crack of dawn, hunched over your Mac or PC, trying to catch up or tune in, not only to a game, but to a cultural experience which was once your very own. When the crowd begins to roar during a bowler’s run up, it sounds just like a time capsule has arrived to transport you to another place, another time.

The moment of victory was greater than cricket, greater than sport © Getty Images

The time is childhood, or adolescence, or whenever it was, the innocent age, before you left your country, before you became an expat. The place is your high school, college, street corner, local haunts, Eden Gardens, Wankhede, Feroz Shah. Wherever you sat on the bleachers or got special tickets to the clubhouse. Wherever you were with friends or family.

Since following cricket on a regular basis is so difficult in the US, I often find myself feeling like Rip Van Winkle when I do watch a game. When I’m vacationing in India every couple of years for instance or, as happened this past month, during the World Cup. I was a little bewildered by the DRS, the Powerplay, the hype around some cricketers I hadn’t actually heard of. As one who used to be an avid sports quizzer once upon a time, this ignorance is embarrassing to admit to. However, it is a fact. Cricket and I are no longer close friends. We’re, at best, acquaintances who meet only occasionally, and have to start over again.

And yet. And yet. When Dhoni hit his by-now famous six, the six that, like Miandad’s against India, will pass into cricketing legend and will be retold to future generations just as our parents, aunts, and uncles went on and on about Kapil’s unbeaten 175 against Zimbabwe in 1983, the moment, quite literally, froze. The video buffered the shot. One second India needed a couple of runs to win, and the next players were embracing and crying on the field, an anti-climax that was so predictable that it didn’t even hurt. Because that moment was greater than cricket, greater than sport. When the crowds in Mumbai erupted, when Facebook exploded into giddy exclamations of joy and shock, the tears I found myself shedding weren’t all of joy. With victory comes the realization, stronger than at any other time, of being away. My friend, Prerona, watching the match from Edinburgh, exchanged notes with me online after the match, in between updating her status. “There is,” she said, “no one to hug.”

At exactly the same time, from another corner of the world, another friend, Sandeep, reported his experience of watching the final with Sri Lankan and Indian fans at the Selangor Club in Kuala Lampur. “If someone hit a good shot half the crowd cheered as it neared the ropes, and when it was fielded on the boundary the other half cheered.”

Exile is a double-edged sword. On the one hand you feel alienated and removed from your people, and on the other you feel connected more closely to the rest of the world, to all the world. You belong nowhere, you belong everywhere.

Through the years spent watching cricket in different cities around England and the U.S., with Australians, South Africans, Englishmen, and Pakistanis, at various times, on screens of various sizes, with different results, through the ecstasies and agonies that are a part of any sport lover’s life, through it all, these memories from further back suddenly become clearer. Huddling around a black and white TV with a lot of grown ups as a little girl in 1983, watching my parents and their friends celebrate something I wasn’t quite able to comprehend the magnitude of. Playing para cricket in Calcutta with a group of boys before being dismissed SBW – Skirt Before Wicket. Going for a spontaneous drive to the Eden Gardens with the family on the eve of the 1987 World cup final to catch a glimpse of the floodlit stadium, and discovering that the entire city had had the same idea, thereby causing a traffic jam outside the stadium in the middle of the night. Gossiping with friends in high school about Wasim Akram’s good looks. Looking on from red-cushioned seats in the clubhouse in 1996 in disbelief and humiliation as a few crazy fans hurled trash onto the field to disrupt India’s semi-final against Sri Lanka.

They say nostalgia is the refuge and also the somewhat pathetic crutch of the exile. But forgive the sentimentality, for the memories have nothing to do with cricket. They are about the foods we miss, the sounds we once heard, the colours that fade. They are about family, and childhood, and innocence. Because in the end, for an Indian expat, watching cricket is like going home.

From Nishad Jayasundara, Sri Lanka

The tussle is on © AFP

Sixty years ago, Sri Lankan cricket used to be a gentleman's game. Gentlemen used to be and had to be only English-speaking elite from Colombo. Wild-haired Malingas and wide-eyed Muralitharans were clinging on to metal fences outside prestigious cricket clubs watching men in white taking tea breaks.

Times have changed for Sri Lankan cricket and cricketers. Since independence, if there is anything Sri Lanka has made a significant progress in, it is cricket. It has become a part of life, a topic of debate in the parliament and in the street corners. It has pierced through to the smallest village in the country, crossing socio-economic boundaries and defying ethnic barriers. Over the last two decades players from all corners have rallied together making an unorthodox yet very effective unit, ready to take on the world. And they did it in style in 1996.

They named it the Sri Lankan brand of cricket; it is a blend of aggression of the Australians, efficiency of the South Africans, raw talent of the Pakistanis, passion of the Bangladeshis (now) mixed with a Caribbean flair. The Sri Lankan brand has been a treat to watch. In this World Cup, the Sri Lankan team looks more prepared than ever, with a mix of youth and experience in the likes of Mahela Jayawardene and Angelo Mathews coupled with the flamboyance and fortitude of Kumar Sangakkara and Thilan Samraweera.

Unlike a few centuries ago, this time they are prepared for the Queen's team. In their own backyard, playing against a team known for its weakness on spin-friendly surfaces and looks visibly tired from being on the road for the past six months, the Sri Lankans could not have asked for a better team to play against in a crunch match. Twenty million people are hoping for a re-enactment of 1996 quarterfinals - when the English were comprehensively beaten.

Although a repeat of that act appears just around the corner, there is a hint of skepticism in every fan. There is something about the Sri Lankan outfit that creates a doubt in your mind. It might be the fact that Sri Lanka, barring New Zealand, haven’t yet beaten a significant opponent this tournament. Even against New Zealand, the Sri Lankan middle order faltered. Malinga has been wayward, except for one game against Kenya, Upul Tharanga looks a bit edgy and Tillakaratne Dilshan is due a big score.

Compared to 1996, England have come a long way as an ODI team. They boast a group of utility players in Ravi Bopara, Paul Collingwood, James Tredwell and Tim Bresnan. Greame Swann looks threatening on spinning tracks, except when there is dew. More importantly, England are the only team in this World Cup to not to lose a game to a bigger Test-playing nation. No matter how tired they look, regardless of the battered psychological state of the English camp, when they are up against a formidable side, they seem to pull it off.

Can they do it on Saturday on a tricky Premadasa track against the quality of Murali and Malinga? Would they be mystified by Mendis? A couple of solid performances from the top order, accurate bowling from Malinga and some late over fireworks from Mathews should be enough to take Sri Lanka through. We all know Sri Lanka can do it. But no one wants to say it, every one gulps the words when they appear to come out, because you just never know. After all it is against the Queen's team, and they invented the game.

From Venkataraghavan Srinivasan, India

The group stage has drawn to a close and the quarter-finals are underway. There have been phenomenal innings filled with lusty hitting, but there have also been instances when wickets have fallen like a stack of cards, or dominos. South Africa self-destructed on Friday against New Zealand to be knocked out of the World Cup. Here, we look at ten batting collapses, some similar, some even more dramatic, from the group stage.

Dale Steyn crippled India in Nagpur © AFP

No. 10

13/5 in 32 balls

West Indies v South Africa

209/5 in 42.1 overs to 222/10 in 47.3 overs (batting first)

Result: Lost

This was the first real ‘big name’ match of the World Cup. For 42 overs, it was shaping up into a cracker. With Shivnarine Chanderpaul at the crease and Kieron Pollard and Darren Sammy still to come, 300 looked possible. However, Imran Tahir, on his debut, and Dale Steyn dismantled the lower order with tight, precise bowling. South Africa cantered home with a century from AB de Villiers.

No. 9

27/5 in 51 balls

Ireland v Bangladesh

151/5 in 36.3 overs to 178/10 in 45 overs (chasing 206)

Result: Lost

Bangladesh had lost to Ireland in the 2007 World Cup. They needed to win this one at home for pride and to keep their quarter-final hopes alive. Instead, they struggled against a disciplined Irish bowling attack and an unflappable batting line-up. Shafiul Islam, who had World Cup figures of 9-0-80-1, came back for a fiery second spell of 6-1-10-4. The Irish lower order was mopped up and Bangladesh were on their way.

No. 8

7/5 in 30 balls

Bangladesh v West Indies

51/5 in 13.5 overs to 58/10 in 18.5 overs (batting first)

Result: Lost

Bangladesh were ranked higher than West Indies coming into the World Cup, and it seemed to rankle the latter. Electing to bat, Bangladesh were already in a heap of trouble at 51 for 5 in the fourteenth over, and were looking to rebuild. West Indies, however, went for the kill. Kemar Roach, Sammy and Sulieman Benn, who had shared the first five wickets, shared the last five as well, and West Indies had proven a point.

No. 7

11/5 in 40 balls

West Indies v India

154/2 in 30.2 overs to 165/7 in 37 overs (chasing 269)

Result: Lost

Zaheer Khan started the slide by castling the well-set Devon Smith. The next over, Harbhajan Singh had the dangerous Pollard caught at long-on. The keeper Devon Thomas was stumped and the captain Sammy was run out. Yuvraj Singh then had Russell caught at point off an uppish cut. West Indies had collapsed against India, South Africa and England.

No. 6

3/4 in 21 balls

West Indies v England

222/6 in 41.1 overs to 225/10 in 44.4 overs (chasing 244)

Result: Lost

England and Bangladesh’s place in the quarter-finals hung on the result of this match. Ramnaresh Sarwan and Andre Russell had taken West Indies to within 22 runs of victory. And then, Man of the Match James Tredwell trapped Russell in front and Graeme Swann took Sarwan and Roach. A Benn run-out later, England had lived to see another day.

No. 5

11/5 in 11 balls

India v England

327/5 in 48 overs to 338/10 in 49.5 overs (batting first)

Result: Tied

Tim Bresnan bowled a terrific 49th over. He started with a slower ball that Yusuf Pathan skied to mid-off. Next ball, he yorked and bowled Virat Kohli, who had given himself too much room. Two balls later, he yorked Harbhajan and had him adjudged leg before. The next over, two run-outs followed five no-balls and India had lost half their team in less than two overs.

No. 4

8/4 in 17 balls< br>
England v India

281/2 in 42.3 overs to 289/6 in 45.2 overs (chasing 339)

Result: Tied

If Bresnan did it for England, Zaheer did it for India. England were coasting to victory when they took the batting Powerplay in the 43rd over. In the fourth ball, Ian Bell skied Zaheer to mid-off. Next ball, Zaheer bowled an inswinging yorker to Andrew Strauss, batting on 158, and had him leg-before. Two overs later, he knocked back Paul Collingwood’s off-stump. The following over, Harbhajan had Matt Prior holing out to midwicket.

No. 3

3/4 in 31 balls

South Africa v England

124/3 in 31.5 overs to 127/7 in 37 overs (chasing 172)

Result: Lost

A lucky wicket started this one. AB de Villiers left a James Anderson delivery outside off alone, but the keeper noticed belatedly that the bails had fallen. Replays showed that the ball had nicked off-stump. Two balls later, the other set batsman, Faf du Plessis was run out. The following over, Anderson returned to bowl JP Duminy and South Africa had lost three wickets on the same score. Three overs and runs later, Michael Yardy had Robin Peterson caught behind.

No. 2

14/5 in 53 balls

Bangladesh v England

155/3 in 30.5 overs to 169/8 in 39.4 overs (chasing 226)

Result: Won

The only team on this list to collapse and still win. Bangladesh were cruising to victory until Imrul Kayes ran an impossible second and was found short. Five overs and seven runs later, Shakib Al Hasan played Swann onto his stumps. Two balls later, Ajmal Shahzad had Mushfiqur Rahim caught behind. In his next over, he bowled Naeem Islam. The following over, Bresnan took a diving catch off a high ball at long onto dismiss Abdur Razzak.

No. 1

29/9 in 55 balls

India v South Africa

267/1 in 39.3 overs to 296/10 in 48.4 overs (batting first)

Result: Lost

The single largest collapse in the World Cup belongs to the most vaunted batting line-up. After dominating 80% of their innings, India let it go in the last 20%, and it all began with the batting Powerplay. Sachin Tendulkar, after a terrific century, sliced Morne Morkel to point. The next over, Steyn had Gautam Gambhir and Yusuf Pathan playing mistimed lofted shots to men in the circle. Yuvraj lifted the last ball of the Powerplay to long-on. Then, Kohli pushed the ball back to Peterson. Steyn crashed Harbhajan’s stumps. Peterson had Zaheer caught at long-on. Steyn returned to get rid of Nos. 10 and 11 off consecutive deliveries.

From Brad Hinds, Australia

Ricky Ponting did all he could to ensure success for his team, but his century – his first in 13 months – proved futile © AFP

The reign has ended. Here endeth an incredible era of Australian cricketing dominance. The passing of the World Cup in the tense quarter-final match in Ahmedabad between Australia and India is a poignant and poetic representation of things coming full circle. It was a brave battle fought by both sides, but it was India’s temperament and determination which propelled them beyond the line, past their long standing adversaries, and into a future of new frontiers and new possibilities.

It has been 12 years since Australia won the 1999 World Cup – almost 12 subsequent years of dominance. It is because of the grandeur of Australia’s passing that the era isn’t said to have ended with either the loss of the Border-Gavaskar Trophy or indeed the loss of the Ashes on Australian soil. It was Australia’s loss against India in Ahmedabad that represented a culmination of all of these failures. It started with the World Cup. It ended with the World Cup.

The reign has ended. Ricky Ponting has seen the very best of that entire period, and has now witnessed its bittersweet end. Like Australia, he has largely dominated the international cricket stage. It was his unforgettable innings of 140 in the 2003 final against India that got Australia their second consecutive World Cup win. He subsequently led Australia to victory again in the 2007 edition. It was he who carried on from Steve Waugh to set up 34 consecutive World Cup victories. With this in mind, Ponting has been synonymous with Australia’s greatest successes (and some equally great failures) ever since Australia won the World Cup in 1999.

It might be brutally harsh to Australian cricket fans who witnessed those glory days and were tempted to think they’d continue when it seemed for a little while as if Australia might just make it into the semi finals. It was Ponting himself, in the face of some overwhelming scrutiny, who walked out to the crease horribly out of form and played a classy innings of 104 in tough conditions – in what is likely to be his last ever World Cup match. It was he who kept Australia's futile hopes alive. That in itself seemed fitting for a player who has, on so many occasions, taken Australia across the finish line. He is, of course, the only player still in the side from that remarkable win against Pakistan in the 1999 final.

In the context of the quarter-final, he is a tragic hero. A hero for having come through when they really needed him, but ultimately coming through for nothing. It was a somewhat eerie experience watching him regain the very best of his fluency right on the precipice. He stood there almost until the very end. He seemed like the only batsman who truly cared what this game meant. But it was futile, because despite his great effort, they lost. Because India did not repeat their mistakes of 2003. Because they did not capitulate. Because they were the ones who crossed the finish line this time.

Over the next few weeks, there will be many questions asked about the ability of the current Australian line-up and, indeed, the captaincy of Ponting. He did everything he possibly could. As a batsman, and as a captain, Ponting could not have done anything differently in Ahmedabad. It was at the most crucial moment in the tournament that Ponting stood up and delivered an innings he should never forget, despite the result of the match. For the most part, his bowlers did a decent job of putting pressure on India at crucial moments. Brett Lee, especially, another Australian World Cup veteran, played like a champion.

No one should forget what Ponting accomplished. It was an inspiring tribute not only to his own contribution to the team in all formats of the game during his tenure – Australia’s greatest batsman since Bradman - but also to the greatest aspects that have characterised Australia as a whole over the preceding 12 years.

But it is time to move on. Ponting is no longer burdened by the expectations placed on a team that is nowhere near of the same caliber it used to be several years ago when many of its greats departed. He is finally free of those shackles. Free of a terrible Ashes record. Free of the expectations of winning a fourth consecutive World Cup. He has expressed his desire to keep playing international cricket, but is this something that he really ought to do? Certainly, there’s the distinct possibility he could regain, in the long term, much of the form he’s lost over the last 18 months, but does that even matter?

Ponting is 36, and as Australia finally relinquish their hold over world cricket, perhaps it is time for change. Sometimes you have to realise when it’s ‘your time’. Having gone out with dignity with a terrific century, should this be the end of Ponting’s ‘time’? That is the question he will need to seriously consider as Australia move forward from this very important defeat.

From Matthew Davies, United Kingdom

In picking Jade Dernbach, England have taken a gamble, and a good one © Getty Images

It would be easy to downplay England’s achievements in this World Cup. For the victories against South Africa and West Indies, you could point to their defeats against Ireland and Bangladesh. It is equally easy to forget that England came into this World Cup perhaps the most fatigued of all the sides, and this may have affected their performances so far, as they can only raise their strength to beat the top teams. This fatigue may or may not have played a part in the number of injuries and loss of form that have hindered England during this tournament.

With Stuart Broad, Ajmal Shazhad and Kevin Pietersen all out of the World Cup, Eoin Morgan being absent from the start before his return, Graeme Swann and Andrew Strauss perhaps not being 100% fit due to niggles and illness and James Anderson, Matt Prior and Paul Collingwood suffering from a horrific loss of form, England could have easily crashed out of the World Cup with a whimper. England, however, have defied the circumstances and now find themselves in the quarter-finals, armed with the knowledge that they can beat anyone on their day.

What has been really impressive about England though is who has stepped up. Luke Wright, who often causes bafflement amongst supporters with his repeated selection, showed his worth against West Indies, as did James Tredwell, a man whose credentials as a possible international player have been doubted. Ravi Bopara has made some telling contributions with bat and ball, and Chris Tremlett, despite being hammered by Chris Gayle and Andre Russell, still took an excellent catch to dismiss Kemar Roach. These were not the names that opposition coaches would have studied for weeks beforehand, and perhaps this has contributed to their success, but there may be another reason.

Showing trust in these relatively unproven cricketers was a gamble, but one that has been rewarded with a place in the quarter-finals. England have now taken a gamble on another man. It would have been easy to call up Chris Woakes, who has already made his international debut and was relatively impressive given the horror show of the one-day series in Australia. Likewise, Steve Finn has taken international wickets and gave a decent showing in the subcontinent against Bangladesh, though he has maybe been deemed to be guilty of bowling too many four-balls. Yet England have gone with someone who has an economy rate of 6.33 per game, in a country where pitches are meant to assist the seam bowlers.

Granted, Jade Dernbach plays his cricket at the Oval for Surrey, where the flat pitches maybe a contributing factor, but he still goes for runs. At first, to anyone who has never seen him bowl or doesn’t look at his statistics closely, it seems like madness. His strike-rate in List A cricket however is exceptional, at 25.8, which means that for every ten overs he bowls he will pick up over two wickets on average. That’s an impressive record, especially because it is equal to that of Ajantha Mendis, who bamboozles many a cricketer at domestic level. He is also a skilled death bowler, and this is most likely the reason for his selection. He can bowl bouncers, yorkers, cutters and cleverly disguised slower balls, and picks up wickets by bowling straight. What England would have given for someone who could have landed a yorker to Shafiul Islam. Dernbach might not even play a game, should Andys Flower and Strauss put their faith back in Anderson or persevere with Tremlett, but to recognise a skilled wicket-taker shows that England want to win this World Cup, rather than just avoid embarrassment. They want to adopt the same aggressive approach as Australia: win, or die trying. There is no safe option.

From Tim Wigmore, United Kingdom

Ashish Bagai was one of the best wicketkeepers in the World Cup, and Canada's best batsman as well © Getty Images

XI of the best players whose World Cup is over, featuring at least one player from each of the six knocked-out sides

Imrul Kayes

While Tamim fired only briefly, his less obtrusive opening partner was the nearest Bangladesh had to a reliable batsman this tournament. Kayes provided the backbone for their successful chases over England and Netherlands, winning the Man-of-the-Match award in both games.

Ed Joyce

His long-awaited return to Ireland colours was a disappointment in many ways – how Joyce will rue his soft dismissal against Bangladesh. But his 84 against West Indies, which begun with consecutive boundaries, was a testament to his class: he is surely the most aesthetically pleasing batsman any of the Associate nations possess.

Collins Obuya

He is remembered for his sharp-turning leg-spin in the 2003 World Cup, when he took 5-24 in the victory against Sri Lanka. Obuya’s bowling has since subsided, but he has reinvented himself as a top-order batsman of genuine quality, as 243 tournament runs illustrates. It was a great shame he ended 98* against Australia, after he had handled Tait, Lee and Johnson with the calm of a Test player.

Niall O’Brien

O’Brien will be extremely frustrated reflecting on this World Cup: he made starts in every innings but only once past 50. O’Brien’s relish for a challenge was illustrated by hitting Morne Morkel for six over long-on, one of the shots of the tournament, and an average in excess of 40 shows the quality of this most industrious of cricketers.

Ashish Bagai (wicketkeeper)

Bagai was one of the best wicketkeepers on display in this World Cup, keeping with poise to seam and spin alike. And with the bat he was easily Canada’s best player, taking them to victory over Kenya and scoring an elegant 84 at almost a-run-a-ball against New Zealand.

Ryan ten Doeschate

ten Doeschate came into the tournament with a reputation as the best Associate player in the world, and, with a century of both brawn and finesse against England, he quickly went about justifying it. Though runs proved harder to score thereafter, he chipped in with a half-century in difficult circumstances against Bangladesh, before ending the tournament with another magnificent hundred. His wicket-to-wicket bowling also troubled England.

Kevin O’Brien

Critics will say he only played one innings of note, but what an innings. O’Brien 113 against England – including 45 off 15 balls during the batting powerplay - will be remembered for decades. As a display of brutal, calculated hitting it is hard to beat – and an IPL contract could be the ultimate reward.

Shafiul Islam

Belying his ODI average of under 6, and three ducks in five innings this tournament, Shafiul proceeded to smash Swann and Anderson down the ground en route to raiding England for a match-winning 24*. His pace, movement and accuracy earned him 4/21 to clinch a narrow win over Ireland. But, like his team, Shafiul was hopelessly inconsistent, leaking 124 runs from 14 overs in Bangladesh’s three defeats.

George Dockrell

When was there last an 18-year-old spinner with Dockrell’s control and big-match temperament? In the intense pressure of the opening game in partisan Dhaka, Dockrell’s wonderful 10 overs, in which he returned 2-23, ought to have secured Ireland victory. Thereafter, he only continued to impress, with the only shame that his skipper didn’t trust him to bowl to Kieran Pollard. What odds him representing England in 2015?

Ray Price

The man with the most theatrical expressions in world cricket illustrated his guile and skill with some admirable performances, notably 2-21 of eight overs against Pakistan, and was equally effective opening the bowling or bowling in the middle overs. Nine wickets at less than 19 deserved better support from his disappointing compatriots.

Harvir Baidwan

Canada’s bustling seamer was impressive throughout, making up for a lack of express pace with nagging consistency and a touch of movement. He will be rightly proud of his haul of 13 scalps, which included Brendon McCullum, Shane Watson and Younis Khan.

From James Adams-Pace, United Kingdom

England have given this World Cup its most entertaining moments © AFP

On the surface, sport is concerned with results and statistics: Who won? Who scored a century? Who is top of the rankings? At this very superficial level, sport’s main priority appears to be separating the good from the bad, and the good from the best. However, this understanding of sport is hollow and is only one facet of the entire spectacle. Sport should involve examples of breathtaking talent, miraculous turnarounds, and contests that are so evenly matched that not even experts can call the result, even when the denouement is upon them. This variety of sport engrosses those who witness it, allowing them to get caught up in a battle of skill, nerve and courage that has consequences that endure on the pitch, but can be left behind off of it. This domain of real yet inconsequential drama is one that only sport can truly fulfill.

With this in mind, it is our duty to express our gratitude to England for their efforts at this World Cup, for they are the only team who have consistently transcended numbers, rankings and results and have produced true sport, in all of its exasperating and euphoric dimensions. They have ignored the logic of rankings, beating the teams that are superior to them and losing to the teams that are worse. They have not considered the health of their fans, producing “classics” or “nail-biters” in every match they have participated. Indeed, they seem to have gone against all reason and every prediction; yet, irrespective of how far they go this tournament, they have produced the type of sport that fans desire above all else.

Enough has been written about the precise details of each match, so it is necessary to consider England’s impact on the tournament as a whole, as they were, indubitably, worth more than the results they achieved. England were the team that were most keenly anticipated, the side you would not trust to get a result, but you could rely on to deliver cricket that would stir the mind. Their cricket was brilliant and terrible, forgettable and indelible, heart-aching and heart-pounding, all in the space of one hundred overs or fewer. Any team that can induce these fluctuating emotions on such a repeated basis will earn many admirers.

Crushingly efficient teams leave us feeling cold and unsatisfied; hopelessly inept sides give rise to pity and anger; a team that can be both on the same day render us speechless – but in a good way. England have been the stand-out team of this World Cup, perhaps not always for the standard of cricket they have played, but, undoubtedly, for the quality of the contests they have produced. The tournament is indebted to England; they did not just represent the good, the bad and the ugly, they also laid out the template for what true sport should be, and showed that the absolute importance of spectacles far outweighs the relative unimportance of results. After all, sport should not ask ‘who’ or ‘how many’, but ‘how’ – that is all that matters.

From Neeraj Narayanan, India

Why Associates need to play more © AFP

Once upon a time, and a really nice time it was, all that mattered in the world was an evening game of tennis-ball cricket. So even if the sun was blazing, we would run to the neighbourhood park and gather ourselves in poses just like our heroes on ESPN and Doordarshan. Some of us folded our arms and chewed gum like that great Australian captain, Mark Taylor. The bowlers in us swaggered just like Darren Gough each time we walked back to our run-ups. Hell, some of us even ‘did a Sachin’, obscenely picking at our groin, ignoring the fact that we had no guard there to adjust.

Coca Cola might have said it first, but it was we – the boys of Sector 55 Noida - who ate, slept and breathed cricket. So we played, and tried to live happily ever after but like always there was a twist in the story. Ever so often, there would be a group of older bullies who would come much later to the ground and take possession of it immediately, irrespective of the juncture at which our match was poised. Of course, you might ask the question as to why I did not stand my ‘ground’, and I will be honest enough to tell you that I would have, but I do not like spanking boys twice my size and age. It hardly reflects well on them, you see. The fact that the one time I did try and poke one of those fellows, albeit gingerly, in his stomach, they sat all over me and made me lick topsoil as well as sub-soil, is a secret that is dead and ‘buried’.

The only way we could persuade those ugly buffoons to allow us to stay on the ground was to involve them in a game. But despite their ridicule, we never distributed teams, and insisted on taking on their might and seniority. We lost every time, for they were bigger, stronger and sadly better. It infuriated me, the fact that we never came close to beating them, that we were always put in our place, that we were not good enough. But it made me and my darling team more united, for humiliation might wound and it might hurt, but it also brings one closer to those who suffer that fate. They could toy with our bowling, but not with our pride; they could skittle out our batsmen but not our spirit. Sometimes we came close, but always we lost. They also taught us to enjoy the smaller moments. Every wicket we took, every boundary we hit, the whole team would cheer, sing, cackle, hoot and sometimes even dance in an extremely ungainly fashion that only men can. And we did so because when you don’t have much to cheer about, it is these little moments that you make the most of.

And then one day we won. I do not know how or why, maybe they just played awfully badly, or maybe we were lucky, but we did. And I still remember the scenes of delirium. It wasn’t the World Cup, nor the ‘Ashes’, not even an official colony match, but it was our World Cup, our Ashes.

Sitting in my office, I was following a warm-up match online, cheering Canada’s every run in their chase against England. In the end they lost, and looked disappointed, but they ran them very close and one day they will beat them too. For that’s how sport is, and will always be. Goliath may crow nine out of ten days, but one day David will rise and beat him. Cricket is a wonderful game, not just because of Warne’s wizardry or Sachin’s genius or even Gough’s swagger. It is also made beautiful by a generously-built Bermuda policeman-cum-prison van driver who weighed 280 pounds and yet almost flew to take a blinder to dismiss Robin Uthappa, and celebrated as if he had won the World Cup. It is also made beautiful by eleven Kenyans kneeling down and kissing the pitch after beating the mighty West Indies in ’96. It becomes a better sport because it gives a war-ravaged country like Afghanistan hope and a little happiness as they notch one remarkable win after another against countries much bigger, much stronger and more fortunate. One day Canada will beat England, and they will know the joy that we knew one day in a small park in Sector 55 Noida.

From Srinath S, India

What better advertisement for the game than a classy hundred by a batsman from the Associate countries? © Getty Images

Not so long ago, when the Bangabandhu in Dhaka was the only international venue in the country, Bangladesh, on the back of that infamous victory against Pakistan, was warmed into Test cricket. An entire nation came together to watch its cricketers in white flannels, for the first time ever. For five days, people turned up to work in that iconic building adjacent to the ground, just to witness the action.

Ten years on, the same ground has given ODI cricket back its life, with an opening ceremony like no other. Not the most extravagant, but certainly not short on passion and warmth. For a nation that rose up the ranks through what was once the ICC trophy, it was payback time.

Bangladesh as a team still have a long way to go, but the Full member status has convinced a football-crazy population that they can compete with the best as well as their subcontinental neighbours. The rewards of having given them time and space to grow are there for the world to see. Today, they have an allrounder who can rival the world’s best and victories against higher-ranked teams are no more “giant-killing acts”.

Yes, ODI World Cups are long, produce one-sided games and attract lesser revenues than the whambang T20 ones. But, for a sport which thrives on internationals, unlike football, is it such a bad idea to give the best of these second-tier teams a place in what, ironically, the ICC has labelled “the cup that counts”?

Certainly, no Associate nation has cried out for a place among cricket’s elite since then. Ireland and Kenya have come close, with appearances in the knockout stages of the World Cup. Sport makes things happen like nothing else can. Every time an Ireland beats a Pakistan, the aftermath in the underdog nation is so profound. It encourages an entire generation to take up the sport, gives administrators a reason to promote the game and inspires the populace in more ways than one.

Take India for example. If not for Kapil’s devils, one-day cricket in India might never have been what it is today. There are enough examples in history to tell the ICC that denying Associates an opportunity to compete is a folly, no less. While on one hand, Test cricket has received a facelift through the newly announced World championship, increasing the number of teams in the World Twenty20 only shows the ICC as an organisation lacking in clarity and focus. The latter move has further reduced the chances, if ever there were any, of an Associate nation gaining entry into what is the Holy Grail of cricket- the Test championship. Whether it will increase the competitiveness of the Associate league as these teams vie for fewer slots in the World Cup remains to be seen.

T20 cricket is a double-edged sword. While the format provides room for a greater number of upsets, it brings down drastically the Associates' chances of taking their cricket to the next level. Denying them the incentive of competing in ODIs, is like inviting guests to a luncheon, serving appetisers and sending them off. If cricket’s apex body is genuinely concerned about spreading the game and improving its quality among the “lesser” nations, it must rethink its decision.

Quality might not improve overnight that way, but it at least gives such teams an opportunity, a small window into the intensely competitive world of Test-playing nations. With cash-rich T20 leagues attracting the same set of players over and over, cricket seems to be creating a shell for itself, a protective sheath into which the rest of the world should not dare to enter. Incentives like a World Cup slot can go a long way in expanding the game. After all, what better advertisement can the game have than a Ryan ten Doeschate hundred?

From Tim Wigmore, United Kingdom

Will South Africa miss "the next Klusener's" hitting down the order? © Getty Images

Hershelle Gibbs
His autobiography may have been a gripping read, but its vivid depiction of the cliques in the South African dressing room helped end his international career. Which is a great shame, because, even at 36, Gibbs’s panache and audacity at the crease, best illustrated in his 111-ball 175 against Australia, have the capacity to thrill – as does his fielding.

Marcus Trescothick
For a man often described as ‘stand and deliver’ in his style, Trescothick is remarkably nimble on his feet. Of all the examples of his clean striking in the opening overs of ODI innings, perhaps the best was against Glenn McGrath in the Champions Trophy in 2004: Trescothick, happy to charge virtually any quick, drove McGrath for four consecutive boundaries. If he made himself available, there is no doubt Trescothick would have been opening for England: Andrew Strauss’s forays down the wicket look almost apologetic in comparison.

VVS Laxman
Too orthodox for ODIs? Perhaps, but tell Australia, against who he’s scored four centuries at an average of 46. If Hashim Amla can become the top-ranked one-day batsman in the world, it seems strange that there is no place for Laxman in India’s side. His classical style looks incongruous in Twenty20, certainly, but a man with his range of shots and ability to accelerate could be invaluable in ODIs.

Brad Hodge
Despite seven centuries in his past 20 Australian domestic one-day games and a limited-overs know-how few batsmen can match, there’s no place for Hodge at the World Cup. Labelled the “hard-luck story of the century” by Matthew Hayden, it’s pretty hard to argue – rumours that he never fitted into the Australian dressing room are one potential explanation.

Owais Shah
Overly intense and a shoddy fielder he may be, but Shah has a six-hitting ability England appear to lack in their middle-order. That much was epitomised by an 89-ball 98, with six maximums, against South Africa in the 2009 Champions Trophy. And his ease against spin helped him average 59 in England’s last one-day series in India. In the absence of Eoin Morgan, could Shah have been England’s finisher?

Zulqarnain Haider
Remembered for fleeing mid-series against South Africa last year, promising to blow the whistle on match-fixers, Haider retired from cricket aged just 24. Those who saw his superbly gritty 88 on Test debut last summer will know he should be in South Asia now, rather than England.

Albie Morkel
The ‘next Klusener’ will not be appearing in the World Cup. For a fifth bowler, he was always too liable to be expensive with the ball. Nevertheless, South Africa may long for him when chasing eight-an-over: Morkel can exploit the batting Powerplay like few others, most notably when looting Australia for 40* (off 18) and 40 (off 22) in two match-winning innings down under in 2009.

Mohammad Nabi
Afghanistan’s skipper will rue the change in the format from 2007: if 16 teams were permitted as they were then, he would be appearing in the World Cup. An off-spinning allrounder who also has a first-class hundred to his name, Nabi is a useful cricketer who, with 13 wickets at 10 in the World Twenty20 qualifiers last year, did more than anyone to secure Afghanistan’s place in that tournament.

Mohammad Amir
Yes, yes, we know why he won’t be playing, and that is right. But there’s no denying the sight of Amir’s mastery of the left-arm craft would have added to the tournament. Facing him under lights is not a prospect any opener would relish.

Simon Jones
The notion of a fit Jones may seem ridiculous, but his performances in the Caribbean Twenty20 competition, including claiming 4-10 in four overs, served as a reminder of his reverse swing mastery of ’05, as well as his oft-ignored subtleties. Still capable of touching 90mph, could he yet play for England again, if used in a manner akin to Australia with Shaun Tait?

Shane Bond
A slight cheat of a selection in that he’s retired, but what a shame it is. His last series – nine wickets at 21 against Australia last year – suggested Bond still possessed a genuine threat at international level. With express pace and canny use of bouncers, yorkers, cutters and slower balls alike Bond, even at 35, would have provided New Zealand’s attack with the cutting edge they are conspicuously lacking.

From Tim Wigmore, United Kingdom

	Amateurs no more: 13 of Ireland's players are professionals now © Associated Press

In 2007, Ireland’s success was one of the few things to enliven a World Cup that seldom rose above the mind-numbingly tedious. In beating Pakistan they provided a sporting fairytale the like of which one associates with the FA Cup: unfancied amateurs embarrassing the pros. The story was made all the greater for being on St Patrick’s Day.

The class of ’07 was essentially unknown. Only one – keeper Niall O’Brien – was remotely established for a county, though a kid called Eoin Morgan was said to have potential. Now as many as 13 of the 15-man squad are professional cricketers, of whom seven have county contracts.

While Ireland were enjoying such success four years ago, the man who did most to get them there was playing against them. Ed Joyce was a star for his county and Ireland alike – so good that he was pinched by England, lured by the prospect of Test cricket. Alas, it never came; and despite making a brilliant century for England in an ODI in Australia, Joyce failed to establish himself in their limited-overs side either. After four years unwanted by England, he has been allowed to return to the Irish side. His class, experience and solidity at No. 3 – he is a man with a first-class average of 45 – is vital for Ireland, and also helps compensate for the loss of the best Irish player today.

Just as Joyce was lured across the Irish Sea, so too has Morgan. It is hard to overstate the difference to Ireland if Morgan was still playing for them; indeed, look at the grief his absence is currently causing England. The injustice of the situation has been oft remarked upon, and, while Ireland are denied Test cricket, their best players will invariably be sought after by England. Justice of sorts comes through Morgan’s injury, which at least spares Ireland from being beaten by the bat of their own player.

Four years ago, much of Ireland’s strength stemmed from ‘imports’ – men who learned their cricket elsewhere, in Australia or South Africa, but, unable to make the grade there, exploited their Irish connections instead. While this remains to a degree true today – though no more than it is of England – Ireland have a growing commitment to developing players within their own shores. Indeed, Joyce is adamant there is a far greater commitment to the sport now than when he played before his England days, saying, "The governments both north and south of the border have started to free up money to Cricket Ireland which is good because you can't do much without the money." And the return on this investment is a number of exciting young talents – all of whom have county contracts.

In addition to William Porterfield, the unobtrusively impressive captain, there is his opening partner Paul Stirling, a burly big-hitter of the ‘old school’. Together, they added 80 in 11 overs against Australia last summer, a game Ireland came close to winning, and their left-right partnership is a real strength. Then there is Boyd Rankin, one of the stars of 2007, when he took 12 wickets in nine games. With the pace and bounce generated from a 6ft 8in frame, there have already been rumours of the England vultures circling. And perhaps most exciting is George Dockrell. When aged only 17, the left-arm spinner claimed 3-16 against the West Indies in the World Twenty20 last year, and soon had experts praising the purity of his action, his parsimony, and his pugnacity. On sub-continental wickets, expectations on him will be high.

When they last went to the World Cup, the talk was of Ireland learning from their experiences. But now Porterfield speaks buoyantly of their “great chance” of reaching the quarterfinals, which means winning at least three of their six games in a convoluted group stage. If they did so, they would also embarrass the ICC, who outrageously agreed to limit the 2015 tournament to just 10 teams, thereby shutting the ‘minnows’ out. Ireland may well expose, once again, how undeserving they are of that description.

From Praveen Indraratna, Australia

	The World Cup, ideally, should be a shorter tournament with the top eight teams facing off in a round-robin stage © AFP

It had appeared the ICC had regained some sense. The gruelling 2007 World Cup was a veritable cricketing treadmill. Many of the matches were as filled with meaning as the grandstands were filled with people. And boy, were those seats empty. Two brilliantly organised World T20s, an excellent re-birth of the ICC Champions Trophy and we were all filled with optimism, that indeed the next World Cup could be just as succinctly run, with every match being consequential.

And then, upon seeing the new schedule, I sigh. Sorry, does that say 14 teams in two groups of seven? There will be 42 matches required just to eliminate the minnows? And what does this one month long preamble lead to? The meat of the competition, the games that really matter. Alas, it is a pure knockout stage. I guess it is too late to change for the 2011 World Cup.

But in 2015, why don't we have a set of World Cup qualifiers, which gives the non-Test teams a chance. Just like in football. And then allow the eight teams that qualify to play each other in a round-robin tournament, with the first four going through to the semis. That would be 31 matches all up (11 less than 2011) and every single one of them would be important.