Cricket, in other words

Once we get used to the peripherals of the IPL, and allow the visual overdrive to sink in, only cricket and talent will matter, writes Debraj Mookerjee

What do examinations, friendship and Twenty 20 cricket have in common? Nothing, perhaps, but last Saturday it helped me catch the IPL match between the Delhi Daredevils and the Rajasthan Royals at the Ferozeshah Kotla grounds, where floodlights were used for the very first time. A friend had a Rs 5,000 ticket. His kids had exams on Monday. The wife wasn8217;t having him out of the house, come what may; the boys wouldn8217;t hunker down with their books with dad at the Kotla. A 8216;distress8217; call to me: 8220;Could you please8230; else the ticket8217;ll simply go waste8221;. Could I please? Of course I could. That8217;s the T20 spirit I suppose. The game changing every instant, loads of chance, pinched opportunities, and 8216;injured8217; veterans having to miss that odd game!

The outer periphery of the stadium had nothing to evoke the T20 spirit. Staid cops didn8217;t let on with directions. Walking down the narrow lane to the turnstiles was a hazard. One had to continually dodge white cars adorned with the ubiquitous cockscomb, and the ears were immediately assaulted by shrieking sirens not the metaphorical cheerleaders, but the literal contraption fitted to these white ambassadors. Inside the gate leading to the old clubhouse, however, things changed immediately.

Big bouncers in black quickly wrapped nightclub like a taped band around the wrist, 8220;It8217;s for access to hospitality, sir8221;. A group of girls in red, smiles flying thick, ushered you to a huge marquee-topped lounge. You were torn between the lungpower emanating from the grounds and a round of chilled beer. The game was a good 45 minutes away. Akshay Kumar8217;s calisthenics and the aerial pyrotechnics did not begin for another 15 minutes. The lounge won. However, we8217;ll return to the lounge later. After all, we8217;re here for a game of cricket, right?

At the entrance to the stands I saw the T20 spirit upheld by the DDCA secretary. He welcomed me and the two beers I held in both hands with a warm smile. But he just would not allow in two khadi-clad youngsters who did not have tickets, but claimed to have friends in high places. Mr Secretary did not relent. This is T20, this is the new India, I felt like letting the youngsters know, but knew better than to. T20 is about demand. It signals the shifting signposts of world cricket. This power shift is not just away from the Marylebone Cricket Club. It is also about shifting power from officialdom to those who can pay. It is consumer cricket, and that8217;s why there is no free lunch here.

The razzmatazz apart, and believe me, there was a lot of pomp and show going around, cricket mattered to most people in attendance. An accompanying friend, however, spent most of the three hours at the spa in the lounge area, simply because he is a cricket purist and will have none of this 8220;mixed bag of sorcery8221;. Yup, you read right. A mobile spa 8212; called Power Spa 8212; where you get free foot and back massage to 8216;destress8217;, completed the lounge experience. When Jaipur won the toss, there was a collective sigh. The crowd knew Jaipur8217;s weak batting line-up would mean a curtailed match 35.1 overs instead of 40, as it turned out. They were not here just to see their home team win. Loyalty takes root with time.

Football is driven by club loyalty, even though the FIFA World Cup is the showpiece. Cricket has nationalist underpinnings. In that sense, it has been very old fashioned. Cricketers and fans have to learn to make the transition from the idea of the nation to that of the club. And then maybe cricket will ultimately become more important than national pride.

In an oblique sense, therefore, cricket rules in the game of T20, as does entertainment. Some people might miss the 8220;Pakistan hai hai8221; chant; I, for one, am grateful for being spared such embarrassment. I am happy to follow the interminable Mexican waves and the general ooh-aahs floating around.

Story continues below this ad

A bunch of rambunctious youngsters were punched deep by their guzzling and became quarrelsome. Aggression melted when a six was struck in their direction. To the right was a family that sneaked a few seats away when it espied the beer under my seat. Luckily for them, the cheerleaders were appropriately positioned far away next to the hoi polloi, who noisily lapped it all up.

The new Kotla stadium, with its arena-like feel, is tailor-made for the T20. The noise and entertainment are not unlike what you see at NFL games in the US. Cheerleaders have not lowered the standards of American Football, have they? Once we get used to the peripherals, and allow the visual overdrive to sink in, only cricket and talent will matter. Little known regional players will get rich. T20 is post-liberalisation India at its best. No control on talent. What sells best gets paid the most.

The writer teaches in Ramjas College, Delhi, and is a cricket enthusiast