The seats may have been free but you still had to pay for a ticket for entry to the ground. Not available in advance for Tests or county matches, so you had to get there early to queue - at least for days 1,2 & 3 of a Test. An experience in itself
For one-day matches however all tickets could be purchased in advance. Sold out, in fact, at least for World Cups. Though you still had to join the queue early to bag a decent 'free' seat
India were very unexpected finalists in 1983 after beating England at Old Trafford. Almost no Indian fans had tickets. Nor did too many West Indians
For the free seats entrance was through wooden gates at the Nursery End rather than the famous Grace Gates. Security was rudimentary - a few elderly, blazered gents sitting at a table or standing to one side
In 1983 fans just poured through as soon as the gates opened - including many who were clearly ticketless
So the ground was full, & then some. A little bit scary from the start, as is any large excited crowd in a restricted space
We had however secured good seats at about (very fine) long off & settled down for an absorbing day. The weather was overcast but otherwise warm & dry
When the Indian innings ended, leaving the West Indies only 184 to get, the game seemed to be over
One-day matches can produce games of great tension - such as the 1975 World Cup final - where the balance of advantage constantly swings. But surely the great West Indian team of 1983 would be far too good for the Indian bowlers
Things started badly with Greenidge out for one, but then seemed to settle down.
Even someone non-sporty, who plays only occasional tennis or beach cricket for fun, knows the feeling when nothing works properly. One of those days. The ball, your arm, your feet, just refuse to do what they are supposed to do. Nothing clicks. You cannot find the groove or the zone
And so it was that afternoon
Wicket .... wicket ..... wicket. Haynes, Gomes, Richards, out in quick succession. Then my hero, Clive Lloyd
As soon as Haynes was out someone started to beat their hands excitedly up & down on my shoulders. As the balance swung even further Indias way the drumming increased in force. When I finally turned round to confront the assailant I found it was a young Indian guy, no more than 20, who looked more like an excited toddler. I turned back without remonstrating with him
Kapil Dev, who had been drawing the eye throughout the innings, clearly knew they had won
Although I was normally a keen believer in staying at a match until the bitter end - Oh ye of little faith - we left soon afterwards
See also: Cricket at Lords Tuesday 3 July 1984
