The Hippodrome is Estonia's cricketing pulse. It is the scene of the ICC European Division 3 championships. The field is in the middle of a horse track. One summer, the track's groundsman covered the field with horse dung to eradicate the abundance of rabbit holes ravaging the field. This left the exasperated cricketing folk tirelessly shovelling the excrement off their turf for the remainder of summer.

This tale, while amusing, personifies the humble state of the game in the Baltic states. But the sport has started to make inroads to shed its invisibility.

I attend the championships in a bid to understand and view the development of cricket in this foreign land. The three-day event was supposed to feature six countries but disappointingly only Slovenia and Bulgaria trek to Tallinn. It is a too familiar scenario for fledgling cricket countries unable to compete in major events due to lack of funds and support, while often battling internal squabbles among management.

At the Hippodrome, the aforementioned tale strikes a chord as I cautiously navigate my way around horse dung en route to the cricket field. Puffs of dirt torment my contact-laden eyes due to a galloping stallion.

Despite the peculiar surrounds, it is evident that the Estonian Cricket Association is more slickly-managed than arguably anyone else outside the spoilt 10. The championship is streamed on the internet, broadcast in English and Estonian. Shane Warne and his muse Liz Hurley are marquee spectators during the opening day's match between Estonia and Bulgaria. The blonde bombshell is lured by his sponsor 888 Poker, which also supports Estonian cricket. Warne's presence is a coup, not only for gushing cricket expatriates grown up watching the Australian twirl his magic but for local youngsters to experience the presence of cricket royalty.

There's a misconception in non-cricket cultures that the sport is merely hit and giggle among a few British colonies. Cricket's biggest celebrity erodes that amateur perception. Warne is the archetypal successful retired sportsman – multi-millionaire besotted by a Hollywood beauty, travelling the globe commentating, attending social engagements and playing celebrity poker in Las Vegas. He exudes status. And the quaint old British bat and ball game provided him with this luxurious lifestyle. It may be materialistic but it is hard to deny the monetary bang's importance in enticing youngsters to the sport. The boon of t20 is also changing the commercial perception of cricket. No longer does a player have to play at the international level to garner a lavish existence, offering hope for emerging cricketers from outside the ICC's Test nations.

The indefatigable Estonian cricket folk have tirelessly been hammering the local schools with the message that the package is fast-paced, simple to learn and exciting, contradicting the image the game evokes for the baffled.

Locals have stated to take heed of the message, with the national team containing seven Estonians in their squad for the division 3 championships.

Estonian national player and local Remo Raud (25) has played cricket for the past year, after discovering the sport on the internet during last year's ODI World Cup. The burgeoning all-rounder says the allure of representing his country appeals.

"I really like the team aspect and it is great fun and a privilege to represent your national team," he says.

"It is a challenge to develop the sport and difficult to get friends to play because they always say ‘what is that?'. But I think we are making progress and it is important to appeal to kids at a young age."

Some have taken to the game quicker than a Chris Martin innings. Marco Vaik has a classical technique. I feel embarrassed watching because I envy his gracefulness at the crease, something I have yet mastered in two decades. His cover drive is Mark Waugh-esque and he appears to have studied Ricky Ponting's pull shot, leaving one spectator to gush: "Marco, have you been watching Youtube?"

Marco Vaik aside, batsmanship is a difficult craft to hone. A couple of the novices have stances more akin to baseball, legs spread and bat raised in participation for an almighty whack. They have yet to learn the intricacies, the art of batting. Rotating the strike with quick singles, dribbling and dabbling until the loose ball arrives, etc. Of course, that comes with nous and experience.

Estonia coach Ryan Heyward has been empowered to convert enthusiasm into hardened cricket skillset. Heyward can be described as a lucky guy. He stays in an apartment in Tallinn's historic Old Town during his three-month sojourn. For the second consecutive year, the former first grade cricketer in Melbourne oversees Estonia's cricket development.

But it is more than just an Eastern European jaunt for Heyward. He's responsible for the men's and women's national teams. Heyward, who has vast experience as player and coach in Australia and England, also runs cricket's school's program, visiting about four institutions per week during the four-week period.

The ambitious Heyward has set lofty goals. At the forefront, he is adamant Estonia's passion and talent can propel it to a European powerhouse.

"They are really passionate and enthusiastic here and are keen to learn something new," he says. "We are targeting 10-15 year olds. The younger the better and by the age of 18 hopefully their understanding and knowledge of the game would be quite astute.

"Estonia has ice cricket in the winter and also play cricket indoors during the long winter months to ensure skills are constantly being developed.

"Most Estonians are pretty good with the bat, but fielding and catching is quite tough to come to grips with. Bowling with a straight arm is probably the hardest aspect to master."

Developing a women's competition is also part of Heyward's pipedream.

"Women here love the sport and social interaction with the men," he says.

"Women find it easier to pick up the sport compared to men because they listen more and develop the skills faster."

Fifteen-year-old Birgitt Truu has dreams of refining her already precocious ability in England once she finishes school. Truu, Estonia's women's captain, laments the national team's struggles for numbers to legitimately form a competitive side capable of challenging Europe's elite.

"I love playing cricket," she says with genuine affection.

"I used to play football and basketball but nothing really enticed me. I like cricket because of its spirit and the fact that it is an individual sport within a team structure."

While, Truu is passionate about competing in the sport, she readily admits that "cricket is a boring game to watch". And that is the crux of cricket's problem in foreign destinations.

Some of cricket's youth paraded during the lunch break on day one, exhibiting their blossoming skill. When the tournament resumed, these youngsters did not watch the Estonia versus Bulgaria spectacle. Nor did they fool around with bat and ball in the nets. Instead, they kicked a football around.

National team success, and by extension creating more media scope, is imperative for cricket to keep afloat. Estonia is riding a recent wave of success after comfortably winning the division 3 championships and was competitive in the subsequent division 2 championships in Corfu. Despite flashes of brilliance from their locals, Estonia piggybacks their expatriated players to championship glory.

Cricket has nestled itself in a promising frontier. Estonia is known as the "Baltic Tiger" due to its developing economy amid the European gloom. It is at the cutting edge of technology. After all, the creator of Skype is Estonian. Tallinn brims with fast free Wi-Fi at nearly every corner, bar and restaurant. Most youngsters speak fluent English. Estonia is riding a wave of westernisation, unshackling its communism enforced past. It is a progressive land.

But the questions remain. Can Estonia become cricket's non-British colonial pioneer? Can cricket entrench itself in a land without British roots?

While for the time being, the questions remain rhetorical, at least the Estonian cricketing folk won't need to scamper for their shovels any time soon.