Today we have the sporting equivalent. Twenty20 was invented as cricket for people who don’t like cricket. It was introduced in 2003, disguised behind weird and whacky gimmicks and frippery, to appeal to fringe groups such as women and the under-50s who considered the traditional game to be long, exclusive and complicated.

The pioneers settled on 20 overs a side because they thought that anything longer would challenge attention spans. “Farce!” cried the critics, describing the creation as a version of It’s A Knockout.

Their anger was the equivalent of the Barmies lining up behind John Redwood’s campaign to lead the Conservative Party. The ECB sniggered.

Some of us rather liked Stuart Hall and Eddie Waring, and you would not be short of players willing to throw a wet sponge at Dominic Cork or Andy Caddick. There was even the idea of a “golden over” where runs would count double, signalled by umpires waving a big gold-coloured card in all directions to the sound of a hooter.

Officially, this was dismissed as being a bit too silly. In which case you wonder why the ICC cricket committee, which recently dreamt up substitutes for one-day internationals, had not thought of it first.

The real reason was more practical; Duckworth/Lewis could not cope with calculations in rain-affected games.

Finals day is a celebration of the concept. This week I asked a friend for memories of the event at Edgbaston last year. There were two: Andrew Flintoff downing a pint in one great swill whilst wearing a Viking helmet on the balcony of a hospitality box (before signing autographs for nearly an hour without so much as a burp), and the scandal of the mascots’ race.

This really is Jeux Sans Frontiers material. Or perhaps that should be Jeux Avec Frontiers. Because no sooner had Roary the Lion, from Surrey, crossed the line first than he was disqualified for wearing trainers by the ECB’s Furry Animals Discipline (footwear) subcommittee. Lanky the Giraffe, from Lancashire, was declared the winner.

A microcosm of English life, some thought. The sneaky southerner usurped by the upright northerner. The Parable of the Lion and the Giraffe. According to a club spokesman on the Lancashire website this week: “Lanky is quietly confident he can reclaim the title just as long as there are no cheats.” No bitterness there then.

The rerun takes place after the first semi-final. Between the second game and the final, comes another tradition, the pop concert. Atomic Kitten played in 2003 and Natasha Bedingfield in 2004. This time Girls Aloud take the stage — fittingly, given that one of the original messages of Twenty20 was Girls Allowed.

In between all this comes the cricket. And here is a story of success.

For all the sneers and suspicions, people are coming to group games not to indulge in the sideshows but to see cricket. Counties hardly needed to market the quarter-finals. Punters queued for tickets, filled the ground and watched. Finals day needs its carnival theme purely because it is so long.

The aggregate attendance this season has passed half-a-million, and only a fraction of those will have jumped on a bouncy castle. The average crowd is nearly 7,000 per game, about 1,700 up on the figure for 2003, the first year, when sceptics thought the format would prove to be a novelty. There will be about 23,000 at the Oval today.

Predictions have been confounded. Counties have not drafted in the burliest players from club cricket because the game requires skills finely honed.

Despite short boundaries, the spin bowlers have not been smashed out of sight as batsmen are more likely to make mistakes putting pace on the ball than gliding seamers to third man.

Far from being a young man’s game, the successful players have drawn on experience. Adam Hollioake dominated the first two seasons with a slower ball crafted over many seasons. Surrey were only undone when Jeremy Snape and Brad Hodge, a pair of canny old pros, managed to decipher his signal towards the end of the final at Edgbaston last year.

Tactics come straight from the tried and the trusted manual. The best way to defend is to take wickets. The safest shots are played with straight bats. Great catches win matches. It’s cricket, Jim, and just as we know it.

THE LOWDOWN

STYLE Loud, brash and vulgar and that’s just the uniforms

HIGH POINT England thrash Australia by racing to a 100-run win at the Rose Bowl last month and start the Ashes summer in the best possible way

LOW POINT Twenty20 Cup quarter-final between Surrey and Warwickshire on July 18 ends in farce as umpires forget the rules

CATCH IT ON Twenty20 Cup semi-finals, Sky Sports 1, today from 10.30am