New Zealand's Brendon McCullum hits a four, watched by Bangladesh's Mushfiqur Rahim during their Cricket World Cup match in Hamilton, New Zealand on March 13, 2015.NIGEL MARPLE/Reuters
Once, as they watched a live cricket match, a friend remarked to Samuel Beckett that it was "the sort of day that makes one glad to be alive."
"Oh, I don't think I would go quite so far as to say that," Beckett answered.
You can understand why cricket drew the interest of literature's most melancholic spirit. In its you-go-then-I-go structure, it's a sport uniquely designed to disappoint.
The Irish playwright was a very serviceable all-rounder in his youth, and maintained a keen interest his entire life. He remains the only Nobel Prize winner with an entry in Wisden, the cricketer's bible.
Were he watching over the 2015 Cricket World Cup, one imagines Beckett approving of all the angst – especially as it applies to the game's birthplace.
It's beginning to seem that the only point in holding a World Cup – any sort of World Cup – is to embarrass England. The English went to this World Cup without much hope, except that they might not make a show of themselves. They couldn't manage it.
Roiled by one small controversy after another – for instance, their Irish-born captain, Eoin Morgan, explained that he does not sing God Save the Queen in the prematch for "personal reasons" – they staggered about Australia and New Zealand for a few weeks. It looked rather like you or me trying to catch a kangaroo.
They were crushed by both co-hosts – which was half-expected. Sri Lanka dismantled them – which was maybe a quarter expected. Eventually, Bangladesh eliminated England from the tournament – which was not expected at all, by anyone, however fractionally.
England had to stick around for another week, while people wondered if it could beat its final round-robin opponent, Afghanistan. Put it this way – England losing a meaningful cricket match to Afghanistan would have the same emotional impact as Canada losing an Olympic hockey final to Mauritius. And yet, this question was seriously engaged by English pundits. This wasn't the bottom. This was tunnelling.
Sadly for all neutrals and disappointment maximalists, England lurched past international cricket's new crush on Friday in soggy conditions.
The only people pleased at the result were the English team and unarmoured Afghans (when Afghanistan last won at this tournament, berserk fans back home took to the streets and began firing off Kalashnikovs).
Cricket's most cherished tournament, the Ashes, begins in four months. Former England batsman Mark Butcher advised the nation on how it might best be viewed: "When Australia come, just don't watch. Hide behind the sofa."
Until that happens, we'll bid England adieu. They seemed like decent guys, but that fog of disaster trailing them around was seriously starting to harsh the mood. You got the eerie sense that, had one of them put in a decent innings, he'd end up pinging a six off a light-tower and bring it crashing down on the field.
They were a team only a Beckett could love.
Now it's wide open, but you already know how you want it to end.
India continues to press forward with one of the most remarkable runs in this tournament's history. Going back to 2011, it has won nine World Cup matches in a row. It is almost certain to extend the streak in a final opening-round encounter with Zimbabwe.
Though not the favourite, India remains the most arrogant team here – and in a good way. Though not especially dominant in any one phase of the game, the Indians are deeply proficient in the final result. Perhaps that's the result of getting another win over arch-rival Pakistan out of the way early. After that nervy business, everything else must seem easy by comparison.
South Africa is the other squad that exists just outside the top sphere, undone by its history of blowing it when it matters. So far, it hasn't really mattered, and so the South Africans look great. They have the game's rock star of the moment – batsman AB de Villiers. Two weeks ago, de Villiers marked the quickest 150 runs in one-day international history against West Indies – in a remarkable 64 balls. That beat the previous record by 19 balls.
"He's part machine," commentator Graeme Swann said afterward. "Cut him open, it will be liquid metal."
It has its stars, but what this tournament needs more of is incident.
So far, most of the attention has been on a contest run by a local beer company. Any fan who catches a ball one-handed, and while wearing a distinctive orange T-shirt, earns an equal share of a prize that could reach $1-million (New Zealand), about $940,000 Canadian. The amount rises with each New Zealand win. Only one guy has managed it so far. Based on how it's gone over, baseball should straight-up steal this idea.
What it also needs more of is romance. That's pointing us toward a final between the co-hosts. They've played once already – an instant classic. Australia put up 151 in its innings – an underwhelming figure against any set of bowlers except New Zealand's.
New Zealand managed 131 after four batters, cruising toward victory. Then Australia's fast bowler Mitchell Starc began mowing through the side. As New Zealand faltered, the commentators descended into a gibberish language born of excitement.
Down to its last batsman, New Zealand managed a crushing six – a two-out, ninth-inning homer.
On a per capita basis, is there any more impressive a sporting country on Earth? New Zealand has a smaller population than the Greater Toronto Area – just fewer than five million souls. Yet, it is on a course that could see it win two World Cups (cricket and rugby) just seven months apart.
If New Zealand manages it, it might be the most impressive feat of international team play in history.
That's still a ways off. It's also not yet clear if and when it will face Australia again.
But if it is a final, it promises to be a match even Beckett might have found life-affirming.