Cronje crumble

And this is where I came into the picture not only as a bookie, but as something even better: a fixer. One need not be a rocket scientist to derive the logic behind this move of doubling up in the slightly more riskier role of a fixer. As a bookie you accept bets, while as a fixer you make sure it’s a win-win situation.

Now an insider’s tour of the lesser known underbelly of cricket. It is ludicrously simple. Make sure the guy you’ve zeroed in on is aware of the juicy cut you’ve in mind for him. And don’t try to befriend the sheep, chat up the shepherd instead. This injects a certain amount of certainty into the deal. As everybody knows, the match starts with a toss-up in which the odds are equal. The toss which you see on TV is beamed late; it’s actually called an hour before that. This is when the betting machine is kicked-started. Our moles on the ground file in the info about who has called right, and what he plans to do, bat or bowl. (This is if we don’t have the captain himself by the scruff of his neck, as in Cronje’s case.)

After this, we stop khana (accepting) on the team which has won the toss and start khana on the other team. This, needless to say, is a neat rip-off and the amount so collected ends up in our pocket. Our lingo is akin to one used in a bazaar. So a sauda is the equivalent of a deal, a win-loss bet with no side-bets involved. To rake in more dough, this can be spread further into fancy side-bets. Then there are the ball-by-ball bets which go to make the game all the more heart-stopping. This is a strict no-no for small fish, as such stuff by its very nature and frequency of bets is reserved for the sharks who can make good huge losses.

Gambling is an irresistible weakness, and the love for dough doesn’t respect boundaries. Wh-at’s more, everybody understands the language money speaks (sample the Cronje tapes; he was speaking money, big money). No wonder the turnover leaped into obscene figures as cricketers ground away non-stop on home and away tours. And in direct proportion to the plethora of tours, we turned aggressively rapacious, fixing matches left, right, and centre. Some were so blatant that it was a wonder the bubble didn’t burst then itself.Now I’m coming to terms with a life after @!**@ Cronje, and bracing myself for that one phone call which is bound to come after some remorse-stricken cricketer squeals my name. Cronje has me fixed, alright. I wonder if it’s the cricketer’s way of hitting fixers for a six. By coming clean.

(Ghostwritten for a bookie in dire straits)