KEY POINTS:
Some people are waiting for the big contests at cricket's World Cup. They don't see any merit in these early games between the lightweights.
Canada vs Kenya? No thanks.
Or the ones where the likes of the Netherlands or Bermuda could be beaten by a Six of Australia or India wearing an eyepatch and with one hand strapped to their sides? Spare me, please.
Not me. It should be noted, on our Bermuda watch, that big Dwayne Leverock, the left-arm-spinning prison driver with the build of a sumo wrestler, snared his first World Cup wicket yesterday.
And no tailend Murali either - none other than the mighty Sri Lankan, Kumar Sangakkara, from whom he induced a false shot at 76.
Leverock finished with one for 67 from his 10 overs of amiable tweakers.
But what to make of Ireland's tie with Zimbabwe yesterday? If you fancy a madcap few minutes, watch the closing stages of this. It was a real hoot. Tough, high quality cricket? No, but competitive and - allowing for the dodgy standard - tight. That'll do.
There's a lovely moment, captured by the camera, of umpire Ian Gould rubbing his chin and glancing over his shoulder, with a look that said "you've got to be kidding".
Zimbabwe were sailing along at 203 for five, needing 19 with oodles of balls left. Then came one of those unlucky runouts at the bowlers' end, an iffy leg before decision, a knee-high full toss spooned gently to short cover, a hair-brained run-out, another run out in the midst of an attempted stumping. Wacky stuff but great TV.
And the Irish produced their first hero of the cup, a 33-year-old Sydneysider called Jeremy Bray, who hit a century. Their team also included a bloke with the distinctly Irish name of Andre Botha.
But spare a thought for Zimbabwe's hapless skipper, Prosper Utseya. Prosper he couldn't. It was he who gave up the easy catch in the penultimate over.
He could have been a hero to his people, and let's face it, they don't have much to smile about back home.
Instead, Irish eyes were smiling. There was the obligatory bloke in the big green hat, jigs were being danced and you just know a belting night was in store for the Irish in Kingston.
But not everyone's happy in the Caribbean. The Aussies have taken understandable umbrage at an offensive, stupid outburst from Sunil Gavaskar.
In his time, Gavaskar built a reputation as one of cricket's great openers, a little man with a huge ability to focus and accumulate runs. But when it comes to the spoken or written word, he's often had a screw loose.
On one New Zealand tour of India, he produced an article in a major newspaper slamming the New Zealanders for all manner of cricketing offences. It was peculiar stuff, not to mention largely nonsense.
He tried to lead a walkoff in Australia after being given out leg before wicket.
But linking "awful" Australian behaviour on the field to the death of popular international David Hookes, punched to death outside a Melbourne bar three years ago, hit a raw nerve.
Gavaskar's brain seems to link Australia's tendency to surliness and excessive, offensive chatter out in the middle to Hookes' death, punched by a bar bouncer.
"Would the Australians, who use that kind of language on the field ... [use it] in a bar and would they get away with it?" he told ESPN. "Would they have a fist coming at their face? Some day, some other hot-head guy might get down and, you know, whack somebody who abuses him."
Gavaskar's career reached great heights. But too often he has engaged mouth before brain.
The cup contested by India and Australia is called the Border-Gavaskar Trophy. Allan Border has taken a chunk off Gavaskar. It might be enough to bring a name change. Fair enough, too. Stupid, Sunny.
