The pain was just too raw. Ahead of the Women’s T20 World Cup, Esha Oza, the host country’s leading female player, admitted she had plenty of misgivings about watching the tournament.
Sixteen more runs in the decisive qualifying fixture against Sri Lanka, and the UAE would have been playing in it.
Sure, having the World Cup on home soil was going to be a good vehicle through which to promote the game to women and girls. Just so long as those players who got so close before having it cruelly snatched away from them were not forced to watch.
Oza’s status as the national team captain brought with it some commitments, though, even though her team were not invited.
On the opening day, she had to deliver the trophy onto the field at Sharjah Cricket Stadium, before Bangladesh and Scotland got the action underway. She smiled her way through it, presumably through gritted teeth.
Seventeen days later, though, and she was converted. Just like everyone else. She had been one of the 21,457 people present during the final between New Zealand and South Africa.
As she gazed on appreciatively as Sophie Devine, the New Zealand captain, raised the trophy while the fireworks cracked high above, it can only be guessed what she was thinking. Maybe 'who would not want to be a part of this'? And 'we have to get there next time'. And so the wheel continues to turn.
This tournament, organised at six weeks’ notice after having to relocate from Bangladesh, and overseen by an event organiser, Chris Tetley, who officially clocked off from his last shift after 25 years with the ICC on the Friday afternoon before the final, was a triumph.
Consider the attendance figure for the final - 21,457 for a game of women’s cricket in the UAE. And one that did not involve India.
It is remarkable. Yes, the tickets were benevolently priced. But there have been men’s international matches in this country in the past, involving some of the most recognisable players in the sport, that have had single digit attendances when admission has been free.
Of course, the majority were swallowed up by Indian supporters, in the hope that their heroes in blue might be there. They lent their voices to those of the South African and New Zealand expatriates in the crowd, and the atmosphere crackled because of it.
This tournament had a totally different feel to all the major cricket events that have gone before in this country. More humility, and less cynicism, mainly.
With that in mind, it had the most fitting winners imaginable. The relatable everywomen of New Zealand. Like Eden Carson, who put her career as a vet on hold to pursue cricket, and then became a world champion.
And Suzie Bates, the actual vet(eran), who likes to think she is Michael Jordan in clutch moments. Playing make-believe in order to channel the instincts of a great. Even though she actually is one herself.
And Devine, the aptly-named captain who might just be a little bit too good to be entirely relatable. Who, 14 years after coming within an Ellyse Perry boot of potentially taking New Zealand to glory in a T20 World Cup, finally achieved just that.
It was also the tournament when the wonder women of Australia were finally proven to be vincible. And even in that moment they won as much as they lost.
Australia were the most magnificently magnanimous losers in the semi-final, despite having just had their hopes of a fourth successive title harpooned by South Africa. They were an example of how to lose with grace.
Yes, maybe it is easy to be gracious in defeat when you have won as much as they have. But there was not a hint of snideness about Alyssa Healy, the injured and defeated captain, who even suggested that women’s cricket will be better for having a new name on the trophy at the end of this tournament.
Three days later, that is precisely what came to pass. New Zealand, newly engraved. New winners, leading the bright new dawn for women’s cricket.
And one that everyone might feel they can be part of. Even those aspiring women and girls getting their first glimpse of the future in the stadiums of Sharjah and Dubai.
