Fireworks, live music and a packed Oval as The Hundred looks to woo Glazers and Ryan Reynolds

Over the next four weeks, there is nothing hit and giggle about the Hundred for the England and Wales Cricket Board. It is serious business, as it looks to convince wealthy folk from across the globe that investing in English cricket is a good idea.

Would-be investors have been sounded out for months ahead of an official three-month process beginning in September.

Some of those who have invested in cricket tournaments around the world are privately making clear their displeasure with a system that will see them partner with a county for a minority stake with questionable future returns. Yet the ECB has managed to get in a room with some impressive names, such as Ryan Reynolds and his Wrexham buddies, Red Bull and Microsoft. Few doors have been left un-knocked.

A stake in all eight teams will be sold; exactly who to and for how much remains to be seen. In a rapidly-evolving global landscape, English cricket needs the cash to keep this generation’s best players – male and female – on these shores, and to appeal to the next generation. The sale is a major moment in the game’s history. We are talking hundreds of millions of pounds.

The ECB’s Vikram ­Banerjee described the sale as “a bit like very strange speed dating” on Monday. The next round of speed dating is this year’s tournament itself, where those potential investors are taken to games to firm up relations with possible host partners and prise open those cheque books.

What, then, would the window shoppers have made of day one, where Oval Invincibles hosted Birmingham Phoenix on a warm night in south London?

There was a packed house of 23,621, with 10,249 of them in by halfway through the chase of the women’s game. The clientele ranged from lads whose only affiliation was to the lager flowing at the bars, to young boys and girls in the early days of the summer holidays clad in Invincibles’ turquoise outfits (it never ceases to amaze quite how much Hundred merchandise is on show). Between the two matches, pop star Cat Burns performed. All told, it was a lovely atmosphere, and the day was done just after 8.30pm (partly because Birmingham Phoenix were so poor), so the lads headed to the pub of Kennington and the families headed home. All of it was broadcast on free-to-air TV.

Both matches were desperately one-sided. First, the Invincibles women trounced Phoenix by 45 runs, thanks to Paige Scholfield’s superb 71 from 40 balls, and three wickets for the Australian leggie Amanda-Jade Wellington. Another Aussie wrist-spinner, Adam Zampa, was at the heart of the Invincibles’ men’s win, with three for 11, as Phoenix’s strong-looking batting lineup was skittled for just 89. There was next to no jeopardy in Invincibles’ chase. Players of England’s future on both sides caught the eye, from Saqib Mahmood’s brilliant opening spell, to Jacob Bethell’s fine pick-up sixes off Sam Curran, via Tawanda Muyeye’s classy strokeplay.

Some elements of the whole show must have baffled the investors, though. They must wonder why so much of the discourse around the tournament is negative (clue: because traditional fans oppose the prominence the Hundred is afforded). And they surely wonder why some of England’s most recognisable names were not here, because the Hundred’s short season clashes with men’s Test matches. Jamie Smith, Ben Duckett, Chris Woakes (all Phoenix) and Gus Atkinson (Invincibles) are all in these squads, but will not be available for at least a week.

Cricket, even when stripped back like this, can be an impenetrable game. The smell of fireworks still hung thick in the air when the first cricketing oddity emerged. After 11 balls of the women’s game, play stopped. One umpire headed for the groundstaff’s hut. The other held court in the middle. Eventually Lee Fortis, the head groundsman, ambled out with some sawdust, chucking it on a damp area four pitches away from the one in use. Soon enough, members of Fortis’s team brought out a mat to cover the pitch, while the players had drinks. Eventually, more than 10 minutes later, play resumed. To the ardent cricket watcher, it was a puzzling break in play. To the untrained eye – be that an American with bulging pockets or a south London schoolkid – it must have been baffling.

It was a reminder that the magic and mysteries of cricket cannot be captured in a snappy marketing video. The ECB will hope for fewer of those little speed bumps and for the cricket to be much more compelling, but this was an encouraging start to their month-long sales pitch.