Let's face it, the 20-over affair was created primarily to whet the appetite of people who like to party in summer and help fill stadiums.
With playing numbers dwindling around the world, the International Cricket Council (ICC) embraced the hit-and-giggle concept to entice people through the turnstiles.
It is false economy no matter how you look at it. Even the Australia v South Africa T20s fell flat across the ditch.
There's overwhelming evidence those who came in search of a tickle have lost interest in the T20 offerings or simply propped up a flat-screen TV in their backyard to invite acquaintances to their own soiree.
It's no secret players will vehemently oppose any suggestions to eliminate T20s from the domestic scene.
The flashing stumps and bails, zany-coloured uniforms, snippets of music and mega-screen replays every time a six is hit or wicket falls must remove the stress of facing or delivering bouncers.
I mean how often do you have time to chat, let alone with retired cricketers in a commentary booth, while fielding?
It must help break the humdrum of the lonely longer formats.
A lot has been made of the Black Caps playing at barren United Arab Emirates' venues in the past few weeks but, to be honest, not one of the Kiwi cricketers can deny they don't experience that feeling domestically through endless summers.
The bigger picture at Sharjah was Mike Hesson's brave move to go with three spinners - ironically when I asked Daniel Vettori one summer in Napier why not include Jeetan Patel to work in tandem with him in a test match he didn't show a flicker of interest.
Was that T20 we were watching in the desert after news on the Phil Hughes tragedy?
But I digress. While covering the Georgie Pie Super Smash T20 round at McLean Park last weekend, I couldn't help but notice the smattering of children spent a lion's share of the time trying to woo the TV camera or gravitate towards two horn-savvy blokes from Wanganui who called themselves the "Boundary Brass".
Frighteningly even I found solace in their melodic cornet-and-trombone concoctions when I got brassed off with mundane moments on the pitch.
Is it possible to hit the doldrums in a 20-over game?
It appears so.
In Saturday's Central Districts Stags versus the Northern Knights match, the "unbelievable" happened.
Having won the toss, the visitors padded up but several overs later the two batsmen found the dipping sun slipping behind the Chapman Stand impairing their vision so no go.
The umpires deliberated and the Stags ran off the field amid boos.
CD skipper Kruger van Wyk, wicketkeeping gloves still intact, walked across to try to dissuade the batsmen.
"Yeah, I tried to get Ajaz to give it a lot more flight so we could stay out there and the ball could get lost in the sun," a grinning Van Wyk revealed the next day.
It stopped the game for about 15 minutes with some Sky TV production bloke in the thick of the pitch debate.
The CD players, after a few minutes, ran back on to the field but the batsmen didn't budge.
That incident puts the summer code in a new light.
Win the toss, bat but if the sun's in your eye at dusk then, oops, it's not cricket.
Imagine the uproar if rugby, football or hockey teams demanded stoppage time for sun strike or stiff wind curling the ball off the paddock?
If Sky TV continues to dictate terms on what code it'll cover then New Zealand Cricket must look at cutting its losses in letting people free through the turnstiles.
Nothing destroys the soul more than empty stadiums in any code.
What perturbs me more is that in Napier, wintry weather aside on Friday, the throngs who play cricket in the Bay had every opportunity to support CD but opted to stay away.
Unlike rugby and racing, opting for smaller arenas for a packed audience on TV isn't going to do it for T20 if this summer's numbers are anything to go by.
Without doubt, 50-over matches are more likely to lend credence to cricket than T20.
Frankly no domestic players actually standout as crowd-pulling material when compared to Australia or India tourneys.
Major associations, such as CD and Otago Volts, are last on the table for a reason, financial woes aside.
It's a glamour format and not having the cash to lure hybrid players becomes a major handicap.
CEO Neil "Pods" Hood was banking on filling the CD coffers from the T20 round in Napier but the economic viability of such a venture is bearish at best.
Cricket needs to go back to its roots to stimulate growth and passion for the game.
