Hi Cass...So glad you enjoyed it so much old thing.. 
Your prediction as to my view was correct but that doesn't mean I like the bloody intrusive 'music' any more than you. It's out of place.
You won't believe this of me - an old time elapsed anachronism Zoon, but remember the fabulous West Indies followers in the 60's with their steel bands and bongo's. I loved them and the atmosphere they created - shouting out 'Noooooooooo' to Fred Trueman every time Gary for example, clamped down last second on a 90+mph yorker. They were noisy yes, but it was synced into the cadence of the game somehow? There also used to be a wonderful Jamaican originated character in a huge top hat and tails with a silver knob topped walking cane and white spats shouting to Fred when he was fielding, telling him to 'put your back into it man'.
Their various exchanges which were really funny, are still fortunately in the untidy library of my mind tonight 54 years on. I always remember a very nattily dressed member of the crowd 'proceeding' around the boundary at The Oval with a huge tray of drinks on a little lop sided trolley
(one wheel very distressed) he'd 'borrowed' from a bar somewhere on the ground. Non-one was watching the cricket, all were mesmerised by this obviously well oiled gent in his straw MCC bowler with his precarious burden - where was he going? He eventually parked up by the Steel band and passed them all a pint, then jogged onto the Jamaican gentleman, who doffed his topper bowed in thanks and raised his glass and then finally left one for Fred on the square leg boundary. The whole ground, listening in to John Arlott's inimitable description of this on their tranni's, roaring with laughter, plus Fred and Topper aiding urgent trolley axle repairs was just magical. A policeman sides aching with laughter just stood aside watching and then joining in took off his helmet to Topper, at which point the band gave him a loud drum and steel roll!
Sadly today H&S, Security, and other Woke interference wouldn't permit this glorious comedy. Also, or is it just time obfuscating reality but there seemed a fabulous atmosphere between the fans anyway. They loved Fred and we adored Gary for example. Very often we'd all end up together somewhere in Brixton afterwards downing Red Stripe lagers and enjoying the remains of the day - no necessity for BLM clench fisted displays etc.
