William Perkins collects from Allen Stanford a cool $25,000 for being Man of the Match © Getty Images

What happens when a rolling stone gets onto an obstacle course? It grows long legs and increases its momentum.

This is what the Stanford 20/20 Tournament did from the moment it went public and found that although it might not gather moss it was going to face every conceivable obstacle in its quest for new ground.

Purists screamed Not Cricket. Ideologues ranted that an Outsider - American to boot - was taking over. The West Indies Cricket Board (WICB) baulked at sanctioning it.

Allen Stanford, the Texan millionaire behind it, did not bat an eyelid. He knew he was walking the Kerry Packer road and with history's map as guide, he could predict this journey's end.

He assembled 14 royal ambassadors of the region and instructed them to instruct him on the finer points, and then he bid them spread the word, and they did, preaching a compelling gospel that captured sceptics.

But Stanford did not depend simply on converting the masses. Not this hardy, wily businessman. He knew the US dollar was the best evangelist and the biggest earner of blessings. So he went forth with a big fat wallet.

To the 19 regional nations invited to participate, he offered each $100,000 for infrastructure and equipment, $120,000 for players and coaches, $60,000 for maintenance of facilities, and $350,000 for airfare, lodging, meals and other expenses. In some cases, this money was to be administered by the national cricket associations, six of whom are of the territorial boards that make up the WICB. Cash-strapped and under-resourced, they could not resist.

Whatever ideological qualms came from this outsider stepping on to their turf were quickly surrendered to practical realities. The WICB too soon realised that it stood to benefit from an alliance with Stanford. Declaring a US$25 million debt, it entered discussions with Stanford and although no public announcement of debt relief has come, Stanford was invited to join one of the WICB's committees and the WICB gave its blessings.

The crowds go wild... © Getty Images

With a planned budget of US$28 million, Stanford laid on the frills. Like Packer, he changed clothes, designing new uniforms for the teams and introducing black bats and different coloured balls. His grounds in Antigua, just outside the airport, were fixed up to host the games and outfitted with no expense spared.

The Stanford Ground boasts the large Sticky Wicket restaurant, site of a Hall of Fame, so patrons can sup and drink while looking at matches. Two million-dollar big screens with spectacularly high resolutions update and entertain spectators inside and out. Live television commentary is broadcast at the grounds as well as to participating countries and others. The ambience is convivial, families are comfortably accommodated and the party atmosphere is electric.

As with World Series Cricket, it started slowly. Sparse crowds fuelled comments that it would quickly go bust. But this stone only gathered momentum. Propelled by the rags-to-riches nature of each match, which ended with one player receiving US$25,000 as the Man of the Match, and one receiving US$10,000 for the play of the game, it excited the public's imagination. Underdogs in the cricketing fraternity were being treated to prize money and exposure they could never have imagined. Winners of the final will take home a million US dollars.

The slogfest predicted by purists and pundits did not materialise as the dominant factor. Instead as the tournament proceeded, participants lifted their games and the quality improved. New faces came, some bearing the mien of a heritage thought lost. This opportunity to see fresh talent emerging was an encouraging aspect of the tournament, the part that left the cricket legends bristling with excitement.

Soon, spectators were coming in droves. Attendance at times surpassed that at the recent Test matches between the West Indies and India.

Stanford's ground was ready. So were his airlines, Caribbean Star and Caribbean Sun, to bring in tourists. His newspaper, the Antigua Sun, was marketing and making tournament news. His restaurants, banks and countless other investments in Antigua were also profiting from the tournament's growing popularity.

His clever marketing had bombarded the Caribbean all through the Test series. The presence of the 14 Legends of Cricket mingling with crowds provided a bond with heritage. The smooth organization of matches left spectators feeling pampered. The glossy texture that money exudes created a patina of comfort around regional cricket.

It was a stark contrast to the goings-on within the corridors of the WICB. Simultaneous with the staging of the tournament was the dreary and familiar spectacle of dispute and discontent between the Board and the West Indies Players' Association. Once again, contract disputes were threatening to scuttle games and players.

This time around, the jaded West Indian fans were able to see the tiresome image through a different looking glass. It was one that showed them what an injection of ideas, money, efficient organisation and planning could do, even for West Indies cricket.

It remains to be seen what's next in the Stanford plan.