
Here8217;s a ready reckoner. In the absence of other, more exact calibrations of social reach, here is a way to test your powers of networking. Can you, by whatever assertions of status or pulling of strings, prise from the authorities a pass to a one-day match between India and Pakistan? Can you, in fact, even manage a seat with a view at the main event, the last ODI at Delhi8217;s Ferozeshah Kotla with the Pakistani president and Indian prime minister in attendance? The scrambling, by all accounts, has already begun for the last match. In Delhi8217;s incomplete new stadium, the ticket-buying citizenry is being shrunk to ever smaller enclosures. And so, a contract, in the breaking for the longest time, continues to be under threat. When cricket comes to town, the ordinary spectator is nothing but an optional trimming.
During India8217;s tour of Pakistan last year, the Pakistan Cricket Board took a drastic decision and insisted that all seats must be ticketed. In a characteristically grand gesture, President Pervez Musharraf himself bought a ticket before helicoptering into the arena. BCCI would be well advised to do the same. There is perhaps little financial reason for the board to bother about earnings from ticket sales. In the time of million-dollar broadcasting deals, ticket revenue is small change. But the importance of maximising access for spectators, opening it to transparent rules of entry, goes beyond economics. It is through this service to the spectator that older covenants are maintained. Else, cricket is in grave danger of becoming a television game.