You would not think so from the absence of hoopla (in England, at least) accompanying it, but the most expensive cricket tournament ever acquired by a television company gets under way today in India when Royal Challengers Bangalore take on Nashua Cape Cobras in the inaugural Champions League.

ESPN Star Sports paid the best part of a billion dollars for just two weeks of cricket every year for ten years; there is a lot at stake.

In this country, any interest has largely been centred on whether Marcus Trescothick will actually manage to climb the steps of the aircraft and leave these shores without breaking down, but elsewhere the feeling is that this is one more step towards a football-like system where domestic club-based competition, rather than international fixtures, is the driving force behind the expansion of the game.

The Champions League, involving the most successful Twenty20 teams from India, Australia, England, South Africa, Sri Lanka and the West Indies, is the natural next step for Lalit Modi, the commissioner of the Indian Premier League, who envisages a time when Mumbai Indians, say, will rival Manchester United or Liverpool as a globally recognised and equally valuable franchise.

In September, Forbes magazine cast its eye over the first two years of the IPL and came to the conclusion that it is the fastest-appreciating business in the world, generating revenues of $209 million (about £130 million) in its second season despite having to relocate to South Africa at the last minute. Mumbai Indians, owned by Mukesh Ambani, India’s richest man, secured revenues of $43 million during the first two years of their existence alone — which puts the lack of financial clout of England’s historic counties, mostly still reliant on state handouts, into some kind of perspective.

The IPL has not yet found its audience in England, partly because it was broadcast by Setanta, which has ceased broadcasting in Great Britain, and the Champions League will be largely hidden from view on Eurosport. But for the cricketers of Sussex and Somerset, it is a gilt-edged opportunity to put the days of scratching around for winter employment behind them. There is a $6 million pot to play for, a win bonus that dwarfs anything any English county has ever played for before. If either, and this is unlikely, should win the tournament outright, they will receive a cheque for three times more than Durham received for toiling throughout the season for their LV County Championship title.

Brian Rose, the Somerset director of cricket, sensed the opportunity for county players long since denied the kind of bling and hard cash that will come with participating in today’s tournament. “The whole thing is so glamorous,” he said. “You have to go back to the 1950s and the introduction of football’s European Cup. It feels a bit like that.”

With the administrators of the English game pushing even more Twenty20 cricket down our throats next season, it will become increasingly clear where players’ and clubs’ priorities will be targeted. Sussex were relegated from the first division of the championship this year, but, with a couple of one-day trophies in the bag, and more to play for over the next two weeks, it could be their most successful season ever, in terms of silverware and cash.

There are a few glitches to be ironed out before the Champions League can be taken as seriously as its football equivalent. The most obvious one comes in the eccentric form of Dirk Nannes, the Japanese-speaking, saxophone-blowing, Dutch-qualified left-arm fast bowler from Victoria. Despite helping Victorian Bushrangers qualify for the Champions League with a series of excellent performances in Australia’s domestic competition, Nannes will play for Delhi Daredevils, his IPL franchise, and not only that, he will play against his former team-mates on the second day of the tournament. That cannot be right.

It is hard to imagine a scenario where, say, Cristiano Ronaldo was allowed to play for two different club teams, helping both to qualify for the same tournament, and then having to choose his employer. That a cricketer is able to do that now speaks volumes for the shift in the relationships between the player and his employers.

Even five years ago, an international, club-based competition would have seemed fanciful. Now it is the most expensive cricket pro rata on television. The pace of change is phenomenal.

New Zealand rewarded for youth policy

Australia, South Africa and England, so often brought together to form an alliance against the Asian bloc, found themselves at odds during the recently concluded ICC chief executives’ meeting in Johannesburg.

The issue was the future of 50-over cricket: England and South Africa, who have moved to shorter formats in their domestic competitions, do not think it has one; Australia does.

Australia’s enthusiasm for the 50-over game is based around its team’s dominance of it. Ricky Ponting’s team have an awesome record in the past four big 50-over competitions, winning them all and losing only one match in the process.

Of the finalists in this year’s Champions Trophy, though, it should be New Zealand that England look to for a degree of inspiration and not without a little shame. It is, surely, a ridiculous state of affairs when a country as small as New Zealand with meagre resources, both playing and financial, has a better record than England when it comes to international one-day competitions.

When Andrew Strauss last found himself out of the England team, he took himself off to New Zealand to play for Northern Districts. These were his immediate impressions of domestic one-day cricket there: “What you notice almost straight away about the cricket here is, firstly, the age of the players — primarily under 25. Cricket does not have the resources that the counties have back home. As a result, most players who haven’t made it into the New Zealand team by their late 20s start looking for alternative careers.

“As the players are generally younger, training sessions are probably more athletic than in England, with long games of touch rugby and more time spent on fielding practices.

“Fewer games means that practices provide more opportunity to work on your game than at home where improvements are generally made through playing.”

Fewer games, younger players and more time for skill-based practice breeds more dynamic and athletic cricketers. Some of us have been banging this particular drum for what seems like an age; Kevin Pietersen talked of it only last week, as will Michael Vaughan in his soon-to-be-published autobiography. But will anybody listen?

Mourning the slow death of fast bowling

The scarcity of decent fast bowlers the world over was recently illustrated by the rise to the top of the one-day rankings of New Zealand seam bowler, Kyle Mills and the naming of England’s Stuart Broad in the Test team of the year at the recent ICC awards dinner in Johannesburg. Both are decent enough performers, but 10, 15 or 20 years ago, neither would have been good enough to be considered in the first rank of the game.

That there is a shortage of high-class bowlers in English cricket also was highlighted in the end-of-season averages, published by The Times two Mondays ago. Twenty years ago, spectators could have feasted their eyes upon Curtly Ambrose, Patrick Patterson, Courtney Walsh, Ian Bishop, Tony Merrick, Allan Donald, Malcolm Marshall, Wasim Akram, Winston Benjamin and Franklyn Stephenson tearing in and making life awkward for batsmen. They were extremely quick and mostly from the Caribbean, a breed all but extinct now in the county game, which is bad for it and for West Indies.

A cursory look at this year’s averages revealed a startling absence of pace, especially overseas pace. Durham were well represented with Stephen Harmison, Liam Plunkett and Graham Onions, but, other than James Anderson and Ryan Sidebottom, the rest were spinners and medium pacers.

If the fast bowler is — in the words of John Arlott — “the most colourful character in cricket”, then spectators to the LV County Championship this year were forced to watch a monochrome game.