On stage, again, was West Indies cricket, cast in the role of spectacle, the principals-the players and their employers engaged it seemed in a duel to the death.
But at the end, despite yesterday's ``agreement,'' there seemed to be no victor. Only victims.
And in the ongoing, sad saga that is currently West Indies cricket, things are continuing to fall apart.
The rubble has mounted significantly since the London standoff. And piled high on top is the West Indies Cricket Board.
He may not have realised or admitted it to himself when he signed on the dotted line at Heathrow airport that fateful Monday. But WICB president Pat Rousseau has given up lost his moral right to govern. London was just the site of the demise.
But ``Caesar'' had been under the knife from long before. The Rousseau dispensation had already cast itself in the roll of buffoon with its history of miscalculations and errors.
Sending seven over-aged players to last year's Youth World Cup in South Africa, followed in February the Sabina Park pitch fiasco was tragi-comedy.
Then in November, the WICB's appointed officials made a hash of the Red Stripe Bowl One-day tournament. They could not correctly interpret their own rules!
The last episode would have been laughable had it been an exception to the rule. Instead it represented palpable evidence of administrative decay. Proof of incompetence unchecked. And now this.
The WICB made the biggest mistake of all when it made the issue one of two men, not 16.
If the West Indies Players Association's version of events is correct and the word on the ground suggests that is, the board is guilty of both shortsightedness and rashness.
Narrow-mindedly focussing on Lara, Hooper and their contentious track records, they were intent on shackling ``Mark Anthony'' and ``Brutus.'' So they failed to sense the gathering of the other ``conspirators.'' And they got killed.
The timing of the standoff could not have been worse for our cricket's image. And being a man with West Indies cricket at heart as he appears to be, Rousseau could be excused for being miffed at the episode.
Tact, coolness of thought, not the big stick was needed here. Neat deflections were required from the WICB captain, not the heave-ho. President Pat failed to recognise that the groundswell of player discontent, festering over decades, was fomenting.
Instead his board tried to deal with what was essentially a labour dispute, as a disciplinary hearing, where conviction came before trial.
And having played his hand so decisively, he was left with no hole card once the players, displaying a united front, called his bluff. The reinstatement of Lara and Hooper, the removal of the fines on the seven players who took their stand in London should leave the president with but one alternative.
If such a ``misunderstanding'' as he put it could last for seven days, if the Queen's English could fail his executives so miserably, then they have failed us. They must go. And so, ultimately must he.
At least, so it should be with honourable men. And President Pat is an honourable man. And while the honours, if you may call it that, now belong to the Prince's men, responsibility now lies heavy upon them. The Prince especially.
Incident after incident, indiscretion after indiscretion, has eroded the public goodwill. And while Lara might justifiably claim noble intent in this case, perception may be winning the war with reality. He must be aware of this when he makes the first step onto that Soweto field.
And when he dons the maroon cap for that first Johannesburg ``Test,'' he will be mindful of the dangerous endgame in which he is now engaged with the wounded WICB.
While Caesar lives, the Prince must watch his back. Really he must watch his wicket. For the most eloquent defence he can make is not by words of diplomacy, but deeds of the willow.
A player fighting a hard fight for the cricketing discipline of old, fighting to regain the power of 375, the ``Prince'' must bat-and-leadroyally.
Then perhaps tragedy may begin again to look like triumph.